Disclaimer: Gosho Aoyama owns Detective Conan. I only own the plot of this story.

Miyano Shiho looked at the wrinkled piece of paper in her hands. Its yellowed, rough surface smelled faintly of the wild roses blooming in the sultry summer. A small smile tugged at her lips – Shiho could recognise that scent anywhere – it was her sister's favourite perfume.

The elegant script was undoubtedly hers, too. In cursive strokes the words called out to her urgently:

"Beika City, Beika Town District 2, Block 22"

It was a simple piece of paper. Nothing more, nothing less – and yet it was everything. Before Shiho left for America, she had found a nondescript envelope sitting on her desk. It contained a fresh, white sheet of paper, with a curt message written:

"This will be my new address in a few years' time.

Look for me after you have graduated.

Always loving you,

Akemi."

And now, as she stood before a grand Corinthian mansion, Shiho could not help but feel a little awkward in her cheap cotton dress. It had only been four years since she last saw her sister, and yet so much had changed. A part of her still wished desperately for the humble flat they had once lived in. Happy though she was for her sister, Shiho was uncomfortably unfamiliar with the concept of luxury.

Taking in a deep breath, Shiho finally looked up, and checked the address with determination. Now was not the time to doubt herself. She missed Akemi dearly, and she was not about to let her nerves get in the way.

Shiho pressed the door bell. "Ane? I'm back from America!"

For some inexplicable reason, Shiho felt like an intruder. What if her sister had already married and had kids of her own? What if her sister was currently holding an important conference in her mammoth house?

With each passing second, the unsettling sensation in Shiho's guts grew. She stared at the metal gate with thinned lips, adjusting her clothes and straightening her posture. It seemed like an eternity before a person finally emerged.

"Ane – "

The word died on her lips as she realized that the person was but an obese man in his early forties. He ran his eyes over Shiho's body before frowning disapprovingly.

"What is a tramp like you doing here?" he sneered, obviously referring to her poor choice of clothes.

Shiho stared at him, shocked. No one had ever called her that of all things. Even though she did not come from a particularly illustrious family, everyone in her class treated her equally – with respect, even. She was only eleven when she enrolled into Stanford University, making her stand out wherever she went.

If anything, he should be on his knees and begging her for her superior intelligence.

"Excuse me," she said coldly, narrowing her eyes. "I will not have you speak to me in that tone."

"Learn your place, trash. With a pretty face like yours," the man paused, smirking, "I might consider giving you a few yen in exchange for some…services."

A lump formed in Shiho's throat. This was just too ridiculous.

"I'm here for my sister. Where is she?" she snarled, staring back at him with no hint of fear. The truth was, she felt extremely scared and helpless.

Where's Akemi?

Not to mention, she had a sick, wealthy man eyeing her appreciatively. Stop, she wanted to shout. Stop staring at me like that!

"Your sister?" he laughed. "Don't insult me. Filthy beggars don't deserve to live in a place of such grandeur with me."

Shiho had half the mind to pour concentrated sulfuric acid onto his fat body. She clenched her fists.

"You have one last chance. Where is Akemi?"

"In your mum."

Three, two, one.

Very calmly, she sprayed pepper spray right in his face, which was followed by a shrill scream. Shiho would have smirked if it was not for the addition of a new voice.

"Hey, you guys are noisy."

With a strangled voice, the man cried out, "Arrest that woman there, Kudo-kun! She's gone crazy, I swear. Sprayed me with pepper spray, she did."

"You deserved it," Shiho said loudly, rolling her eyes. Rotating her body such that she was facing the man, she said, "Who are you?"

With wild, raven hair and a pair of cobalt eyes, the man smiled cockily at Shiho. His arms were crossed casually, with his entire body leaning against his shiny Ferrari, and she found that she did not need an answer anymore.

She knew him.

"Kudo Shinichi, high-school detective."

How could she not, anyway? He appeared on Japan Daily almost every day. Bitterly, she thought of all the rich people that swaggered past poor, homeless people without a care in the world. Her thoughts then shifted to him.

Kudo Shinichi was the exact epitome of everything she hated: overconfidence and egotism. He was probably just a stupid brat with too much money for his own good. So what if he was nicknamed the 'Second Sherlock Holmes'? Whenever new cases were solved, those triumphant smirks would piss her off so much that she wanted to slap them off his face. To him, solving cases was just a sport. A hobby. So what if people died? They made him even more well-known than he already was, anyway. Fame was all that mattered to him.

How very annoying.

"Is that so?" Shiho said coolly, "Well, tantei-san, do you mind explaining to me why he is here?"

"He lives here," he said, chuckling. "Well, why are you here, then?"

Wordlessly, Shiho passed him that piece of paper. With raised eyebrows, he read it aloud: "This will be my new address in a few years' time…" For a short moment, his pupils widened, but they quickly dilated in boredom. "Look for me after you've graduated."

Shinichi handed the paper back to her. "What's your sister's name? I've lived here for four years. I might know if she had lived in this block before."

"Four years?" Before Shiho could utter a single word, the man interrupted them. "But Kudo-kun, didn't you just move – "

"Miyano Akemi," Shiho replied, cutting him off. She paid no heed to his words, focusing entirely on Shinichi. His head jerked up as he heard those words. There it was again – the widening of his eyes – but that fleeting moment passed.

"And you are…?" his voice wavered.

"Miyano Shiho."

With a graceful push, Shinichi landed on his feet and brushed the dust off his sleeves. He took long, sure strides towards Shiho, until they were half a meter apart. There was still an infuriating smirk on his face, as he regarded the shorter woman with interest.

"Well, Miyano-san, sorry to disappoint you, but in my four years of residing in this district, I have not heard of such a lady around. What a great honor to meet you, though!" He grabbed the pale hand that hung limply at the side of her body and shook it vehemently. "I know all about your intelligence and work at Stanford University – APTX4869? – indeed, very impressive for a person of your age."

Shiho did not know whether to blush or shrink in disgust. She stared at the offending hand holding onto hers and shook it off.

"Touch me again, and I'll sue you for attempted sexual harassment. What makes you think that I'm fifteen anyway?"

"You just said it."

"You manipulative – "

"I'm eighteen," he said cheerily. "Tell me more about yourself. Since we probably would be acquainting with each other for quite some time, it might be beneficial to know more about each other."

Shiho's eyes went wide as saucers. "Say what?"

Shinichi huffed impatiently. "Look, your sister must have given you the wrong address. Someone else is living there. So, you need to find a place to stay, no? And that's what I'm doing – offering you a place to stay."

"Are you mad?" Shiho said, taking a few steps back. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll find a hotel – "

"For how long? Do you have enough money?" Shinichi probed further, taking predatory steps towards her. He slammed both hands down on her shoulder, and forced her to look into his eyes. "Sure, you're brilliant, but do you think that'll land you a job in a day?"

Shiho looked away quickly, knowing that Shinichi was right – it would not. "Hmm? Look at me. Look at me and tell me that you can survive alone in the long run."

She fingered the almost-empty purse in her bag and looked down at her feet, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and insecure. There was no way she could even get past the second day with such little money.

"Why." It was a soft, affirmative whisper. Shiho gave in. She had stopped struggling. But she needed an answer.

"What could you possibly benefit from this, Kudo-kun?"

There was a long silence. Shinichi lowered his head, and his body went still for a few seconds.

"Companionship," he finally replied. His forehead fringe covered his eyes, and all Shiho could see were his curved nose and lips.

Are you lying? Is that why you can't look at me? Shiho wanted to ask. However, all that came out was an incoherent sound.

"I – "

"Don't question so much," was all that he said as he removed his hands from her shoulders. "I do have a heart, in contrary to popular beliefs. I don't want to feel guilty again, knowing that someone died because I didn't step in and help when I could have."

"Stay, Miyano-san."

With that piece of paper still delicately held in her hands, Shiho watched as Shinichi's figure became smaller and more blurred.

The summer breeze blew. The yellowed leaves fell.

Idly, Shiho thought of Shinichi's shaking form as he made his confession. How brutally honest…she mused.

A choice had to be made.