It seems the last chapter was rather controversial. Some liked it a lot, some not so much; I think it's because I was using a different kind of humour than usual XP

Thank you so much to Phantom Player, JuuRokuChan016, rana2001, CasperxDaisyxRa, Meow-chan-15, Airka Yumeko, hai-edogawa, ILoveFanfiction-AnimeAdik, mamatria, Yuu3, krikanalo, Fluehatraya, and AnimeFANforeverMORE for reviewing.

I started writing the couple's therapy chapter, but it seems incoherent and dull ;_; I'll try to fix it, but in the meantime, here's a little filler to appease you all:

Ms. Dubose had been assigned to Beika Prison, ward 22 after the hypnosis session. She had woken up one day, dazed and enclosed within four very blank, whitewashed walls. As the sane person she was, she had quickly deduced that this building was an asylum and that she was believed to have gone mad.

After regaining her composure, a flustered Ms. Dubose proved to them that she was in a perfectly un-psychotic state and had been released within weeks.

Now, when I mentioned that she had been assigned to a prison ward, I meant as a capable therapist in charge of providing her services to the countless first-degree murderers inhabiting the ward. Today, Ms. Dubose settled herself in front of the glass pane. It sliced the room in two, separating the criminal from her and giving her some sense of relief. She was not used to dealing with such people. Since she was a little girl, she had always feared and despised murderers or any kind of cold-blooded killer.

Here, she would have to maintain a tight rein on her impulses.

The paper fastened onto her board clearly noted the ways in which he had killed his victim- as well as his motivation- yet had failed to note his behaviour during his stay at the prison. The therapist sighed. She would have to find out the man's disposition himself.

"Hsieh Goro?"

"Yes ma'm," he grumbled almost inaudibly.

"Now, why do you think you are here?" she addressed him politely, with any disgust she felt locked deep underneath layers of grace and civility.

The other stared: "Why… am I here?"

"Yes," she gazed at him expectantly, "well?"

He peered through the glass with the most dumbfounded expression on his face. "Well… I murdered my father, I guess. Is that what you ask every person who comes here?"

"Of course not," she lied stoically, "and why did you do what you did?"

The other's expression turned sour, his whole face crinkled in a villainous grimace: "That fool didn't even want to help his own son out. He disowned me completely." Hsien spat these words out, spiked with venom. Hmm, Ms. Dubose pursed her lips, noting his apparent ire towards his father.

"How do you feel about your motivation?" The therapist etched a few words onto her clipboard, still eyeing him out of the corner of her eyes.

The other stopped before narrowing his eyes with irritation: "Can you do anything else than ask questions?"

"Sorry?"

Nothing could stop the man's head from coming in direct contact with the glass. This behaviour was labelled as self-harm by Ms. Dubose and she set out to treat it immediately.

"Is there anyone you are particularly angry with?" She posed the tip of the pen delicately onto her clipboard.

Muffled by the glass, he drawled: "Hehe. Ya, the kid who got me in here in the first place." Kid? Somehow, this struck a chord within her. Ah yes. There had been many kids at her previous workplace. A thief and two children, all three of them driving her insane. "He was a little kid, in elementary school I think. Black hair, huge glasses, and a red bow." This sounded uncannily, uncomfortably familiar now.

"And that bow… it, it can change voices! I know you may not believe me, but," the criminal shakes his head, an ironic smile adorning his lips, "that kid is a genius. The detective he is with is an idiot, a real fluke. But him. He was able to point out evidence, find clues…" Ms. Dubose's eyes widened with every piece of information uttered. "…he basically found me out all by himself."

"And when I was about to erase the evidence, that's when his true colors came out. I mean with everyone else, he's like a perfectly regular kid, with the police all he does is convince them he's normal. But he's not. When he spoke, it was freaky man. I mean, his glasses just shone, and his voice dropped an octave. It was like he was just acting like a kid to trick them, as if he was an adult in a child's body."

"After he revealed everything there was to say, I just stood there, completely stunned. And I asked him, obviously, who he was. He just answered…"

"Conan Edogawa, a detective," Ms. Dubose completed, astonished. Her pen slipped from between her grasp, rolling onto the floor metallically.

"How… how did you know?" Hsien inquired, jaw slack as he regarded her with unguarded suspicion. The therapist recovered quickly, reaching over to pick up her favourite writing utensil.

Her voice was sugar saturated as she beamed at him: "Nothing. Your session is over, Mr. Hsien."

"Oh… ok then."

Hsien Goro would leave, marvelling at the fact that the sentence she had pronounced did not include a questioning lilt as she uttered it. And Ms. Dubose would remain, a hand clasped over her mouth as her face is drawn into a weary, thoughtful frown.

Who is this boy?

Conan Edogawa, he would smirk.

"Impossible."

Over the next few weeks, she would realise that every single criminal in the ward had been incriminated by proof Conan Edogawa had presented against them. Men and women committing acts of robbery or kidnappings, all failing because of a seven-year old child. A genius. She was awed that no one had noticed this yet. That no one had realised the potential this kid had. They were all deceived by the layer of childishness he put up- that misleading façade.

She had to tell them.

The head of the police department received a letter the next day:

Sir,

I am a therapist at Ward 21 in Beika Prison and it has become clear to me now, that none of the prisoners I am in charge of have been brought to justice by the police. They have all admitted to being ensnared by a particular boy named Conan Edogawa, bearing intelligence well beyond his seven years.

I advise that you pay special attention to this individual as he may become a valuable asset to you in the future.

Please do consider,

Ms. Dubose.

The chief brought out pen and paper, scribbling a curt message. It was not addressed to Ms. Dubose, oh no. The head of "Hellingly Asylum" wouldn't find his mailbox empty the next day.

Sadly, the asylum's walls would start to become a very familiar sight.

The reason I took so long was the writing of a new chapter story I've been planning for some time: Metamorphosis.

The next update will also take some time due to school starting after tomorrow :P.