Just to be put on your shelf.

[holmes_fanatic]

Who: Conan Edogawa, OPEN.
What: Awkwardness.
When: Day 134, afternoon/evening.
Where: The library, Odin.
Rating: PG!



[The library's copy of The Sign of Four was old but in good condition. Conan knew. He'd already borrowed it twice, re-read it five times. Of all Conan Doyle's work, it was his favourite. Stretching out his hand towards it, Conan hesitated then returned his hand to his pocket.

What do I do if it's not the same?

The thought felt hollow even to himself. Conan frowned at the bookshelf without seeing it. He knew the question he was really asking himself. What do I do if he's right?

Well, it wasn't like he was perfect. Conan's hand shifted to hover over a neighbouring volume, but somehow he didn't feel up to the mockery of A Scandal in Bohemia. Maybe The Five Orange Pips? But that was simple failure. He was never wrong ... The Yellow Face?

But that volume too was left untouched. After all, it wasn't as though Conan wanted him to be wrong. Conan had spent his entire life believing in him, after all. For that to be all untrue--

But what do I do if he's right?

Conan frowned, hand returning to hover over the Sign of Four.

He's been doing this for an hour. Someone send him home.]

Comments

[whatagoodgirl]

"Conan? Are you okay?"

A zombie - well, a very zombie-looking Nakama - approaches him, her head cocked in confusion.

"You look like you're doing a lot more than trying to pick a book."

[holmes_fanatic]

Conan started. He'd been so engrossed in not picking out a book that he hadn't picked up on Nakama's approach.

"Nakama! Ah--"

Conan glanced at the shelf, before turning to face Nakama. "I guess I'm not in a reading mood."

He paused, assessing Nakama's condition. Still pale and drawn. Opening his mouth to comment, he caught himself. Did he even have any right to say something? His assumption might be totally off--

"Are you -- doing okay?"

[whatagoodgirl]

She's surprised to have startled him, and that's when she knows that it must be something serious. He's smothering it, though, so it's either for private discussion or even she's shut out of this one. She'd be hurt, but she doesn't have the energy.

"Fair enough - oh, me?" She smiles, playing at the same game to see if he'll let it slide in turn. "I'm fine. I've talked to a few people about what happened, and they've been able to help me see things a bit clearer."

That's not a complete lie. It's just that none of those truths have made it to her subconscious mind, where the nightmares lie in wait.

[holmes_fanatic]

"See things more clearly?" It doesn't take a detective to guess what things those might be, and Conan frowns. Currently second-guessing everything, he's no longer as sure about the advice he gave Nakama -- especially considering her reaction to it. "Who've you been talking to?"

[whatagoodgirl]

"Just friends of mine, like Hisao and Karu and Samantha." She hangs her head a little, and now she's completely sincere. "I'm sorry I couldn't really listen to you when you talked to me about it... I just wasn't ready yet."

[holmes_fanatic]

"Ah--"

Conan's totally caught off guard both by Nakama's apology as well as her sincerity. He glances aside, mirroring her awkward posture. "That's not something you need to say sorry for! I should have --" What? Known better?

"I shouldn't have made assumptions."

[whatagoodgirl]

"You were trying to help me the best way you knew how. But when everything hit me, I think... I think anything anyone said would've bounced right off me. Merlin tried to help too, and I still couldn't make any sense of it. In my mind, I was just a monster."

She places a hand casually on one of the book racks, in reality trying to support herself a little - she feels dizzy and weak just remembering that night.

"Deciding to fight was a bad choice. I know that now."

[holmes_fanatic]

"Too much, too soon?" He should have been faster to see it. Holmes would have--

Can't think like that! Ha -- I'm really not helping my own case any. A proper detective ... what would a proper detective do? "It's your choice. Not mine or anyone else's. You have to find your own right--"

Was that it?

[whatagoodgirl]

"If this is the effect that it has on me, then it must be wrong. I should stay inside and support the healers next time."

She looks a bit saddened by that - not like she ever planned to be on the front lines, the urge just overtook her like a sort of madness. But it's hard to know that even with all her training, she's still not right for defending people.

[suppressthedark]

[The library, believe it or not, was a place Ichigo did like to go to. Occasionally. When no one was watching.

Mostly because he often had books that most wouldn't expect him to like, such as the works of a certain famous bard.

It was, in fact, when he was checking out another of his works that he happened to see Conan as he was walking by. At first, he was just going to keep going, but...something about the way he was acting made him stop, and watch for a second.

That second turned into a minute, and Ichigo decided he should probably say something than just stand there watching like a creep.]

...Oi. Everything okay?

[holmes_fanatic]

[Again, Conan's so deep in his existential crisis that he doesn't register the sound of Ichigo's approach. Congratulations, Ichigo! You made a seven-year-old jump.]

Ah -- Ichigo-niisan!

... I'm okay! I was just surprised -- I didn't notice Ichigo-niisan here!

[suppressthedark]

[MISSION ACCOMPLI-no god that's so lame.]

Sorry if I scared you, Conan.

[He comes a little closer, glancing at the books Conan was looking at. The book he's decided to check out this time is in his arms-a collection of sonnets, the title just peeking out.]

Trying to pick out a book?

[holmes_fanatic]

[Conan glances at the shelf then away quickly.] No, not really. I was -- I guess I was thinking.

[His gaze falls on Ichigo's book and he's momentarily surprised enough to comment.]

Poetry?

[That's not what he would have expected.]

[suppressthedark]

Aah.

[He flushes a little and quickly hides the book's title from sight, clutching it to his chest.]

-! Y-Yeah? So what?

[Ichigo, you seriously don't have to defend your reading choices.]

[holmes_fanatic]

Ah, nothing! I'm just surprised -- I'd have picked something with more action for Ichiro-niichan. Pulp fiction, that sort of thing.

[Conan pauses thoughtfully, looking at book's back cover thoughtfully.]

Although -- duels, honour, intrigue ... I guess that's got a lot going for it too.

[suppressthedark]

[Hilariously, that's not even close to what said sonnets are about, and the back says so straight out.

Someone may have a bit of a romantic streak in him he tries to hide.]

A-ah yeah, of course. I guess I just like how everything's so...vivid? I don't really know how to explain it.

[holmes_fanatic]

[Sadly, Conan has no interest in poetry or romance, so he doesn't immediately make the connection. Not until Ichigo's hesitant explanation perks his interest, and he leans forward to get a better look at that back cover.

Huh.]

Vivid?

[compressed]

[As someone who works here, Damien saw Conan when he passed him once to go put books back on another shelf. But he sees Conan again, still in the same place as he pushes an empty cart back. It's been a while and he wonders what Conan is doing, staying in the same spot for so long.]

... Conan? Um... Are you looking for something in particular?

[holmes_fanatic]

Ah -- Damien-kun!

[Damien works in the library, so it's not such a surprise to see him amongst the shelves. Conan doesn't jump this time, but he does step away from shelves.]

I was just -- thinking.

[compressed]

Thinking? [Damien wonders if Conan is brooding over something while in front of the shelves, but he doesn't... really look like the type to be doing something like that.]

I'm not bothering you, am I?

[holmes_fanatic]

No -- It was probably a good thing you came along!

[Conan looks one last time at the shelves before turning determinedly aside.]

Ne ... what are you up to? Reshelving?

[willbemother]

"Books are exactly like people."

Mycroft Holmes is a tall man, a towering figure next to someone fitted to a boy's shape. He's only watched Conan's apparent dilemma from afar for a minute before deciding to approach, steps largely muffled by the carpet. Now, he comes to stand at the other's side, considering the shelf and the works there.

"An illustration of humanity, the singular and trite alike. They can be unspeakably valuable, or unspeakably damaging. We must all be wary of which books we allow into our confidence."

[holmes_fanatic]

Conan starts as Mycroft speaks, looking up with wide eyes. Standing in front of the shelf of Arthur Conan Doyle works is the last place he wants to be seen, especially by Holmes' older, smarter, brother.

He manges to supress the urge to glance at the books, see if Mycroft's grasped their significance. His words could be general or particular to Conan's circumstances. "Mycroft-san has good advice."

He puts his hands into his pockets, the better to hide how nervous he suddenly feels. "Ne -- somehow I didn't think Mycroft-san would read mysteries! Is he just browsing?"

[willbemother]

"Just browsing. But then he saw you and thought it might behoove him to be friendly," Both brows raise with a mild display of concern, "I hope I'm not intruding. Mysteries, you said?"

His head turns as he considers the shelf. Agatha Christie, certainly a well known name in mystery, English, most famous for her locked-room scenarios. Down, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, another English treasure and an intellectual, for all the madness he had in his pursuit of the paranormal. He wouldn't admit it, but he'd certainly read plenty of mysteries in his youth. Sherlock as well - Poe's Dupin was one of his brothers' favorites. That much he was reminded of, the note that came pinned with a knife his door within the first few days here, and that Sherlock was less about mystery these days and more for misery.

"Is this why you're interested in forensics?" Mycroft's eyes passed on while barely reading. That was until he caught glance of 'The Adventure of the Bruce-Parington Plans'. There was an imperceptible flicker of his lashes. Come to think on it, quite a many of these titles were not works he'd been aware of under Sir Doyle's name. The man was from the nineteenth century - so how in the world had he written a mystery about missile plans that wouldn't come until the twenty-first?

[holmes_fanatic]

"You're not intruding! I was just thinking ..." Conan trailed off as Mycroft continued, watching as he scanned the shelves. That slight flicker is noted with alarm.

Which was it? Conan can't tell. He'll have to -- no, it would be too obvious to do it himself. Merlin? He owes Conan for the continual removal of the Arthurian works from the library. Yes, he'll text Merlin, get him to remove the Conan Doyle works--

Or maybe it's better to have all the facts out in the open?

"It's part of the reason," Conan says a little breathlessly. "But I might have been a lost cause. My father's a mystery novelist. He has a library in our house devoted to mysteries ..." He was talking too much and too quickly. Deep breaths. Calm. Pretend you're on a case.

"Lot's of friends in the police force too. So I guess it's natural I'd find forensics interesting! I want to learn as much as I can while I'm here. But what I really want to do -- is to be a great detective." He looked back at the shelves, this time deliberately. "I thought I'd figured out how to do that ... but I think Mycroft-san's not exactly right. Books are like people ... but they're not exactly like people."