"Karasawa-kun!" Sonoko Suzuki theatrically flung herself onto Karasawa's desk. "What happened to your face?!"
Karasawa blinked in surprise, quickly leaning back when she reached out to touch the bandage on his cheek. "Just a small cut, nothing serious."
Sonoko looked devastated, every line of her expression spelling out How could anyone bear to harm a face like this?
A truly committed looks-are-everything type.
Ran Mouri grabbed her overly dramatic best friend and offered an awkward smile. "Ah—Sonoko didn't mean to be rude… And thank you again for last night, Karasawa-kun."
Her father, Kogorou Mouri, had been in rare high spirits at the café, managing to down several cans of beer before the place closed. By then, he was far too drunk to walk in a straight line.
Though Ran wasn't exactly helpless—her actual stats were strength A, speed A, delicate appearance B—handling one high schooler and one full-grown drunkard was still bad optics for a teenage girl.
So Amuro Tooru and Karasawa had hauled Mouri-san up to the third floor together. After Amuro's shift ended and he left, Karasawa stayed behind to boil some hot water and brew hangover tea for Ran.
Not solely for the sake of raising affinity points. It was more that Karasawa, with his long and unfortunate history of drinking, was just too practiced—his tea-brewing, water-fetching, and clean-up routine flowed so naturally that before Ran and Conan could even react, Kogorou was lying neatly on the couch like a freshly laundered futon.
As a result, Karasawa's standing in Ran's mind had upgraded from nice new classmate to gentle and dependable neighbor.
"It was nothing. How's Mr. Mouri doing this morning?"
"Thanks to your tea, he woke up clear-headed and surprisingly chipper."
"That's good to hear. I'm glad I could help."
They smiled at each other, the mood warm and friendly.
Sonoko inserted herself between them with swift precision, glancing back and forth as she dramatically demanded, "What are you two talking about? It's only been two days and you're already this chummy? Not fair! Ran, your great detective just ran off for a few days and you're already moving on—be faithful!"
Ran's smile collapsed on the spot. "Don't bring him up… That deduction freak called and said he was off chasing some complicated case. Who knows how long he'll be gone this time…"
"Detective?" Karasawa tilted his head, intrigued. "Who are you talking about?"
"Kudou Shinichi, of course! He's on the news all the time—you've probably seen him," Sonoko replied breezily, clapping Ran on the shoulder. "Ran's childhood friend! He's in our class too, though he disappeared before you transferred in, so you didn't get to meet him."
"A famous detective… and Mr. Mouri's one too, right?" Karasawa pieced together their stories while mentally adjusting his current persona—an idealistic teen burdened by circumstance—and pulled out the melancholy look he'd once shown Amuro. "That must be nice…"
"Forget that deduction freak, Ran! Let's go to the museum after school, okay?" Sonoko, unwilling to dwell on Shinichi or let Karasawa wallow in emo mode, quickly switched topics. "There've been rumors lately—something weird is going on at the Mifune Art Museum!"
"Mifune Art Museum? They're doing that medieval art exhibit, right? I've been wanting to check it out. They've got works by some pretty famous artists and a bunch of new pieces on display. But when I asked Dad to go with me, he flat-out refused…" Ran scowled, clearly annoyed at her father's eternal laziness.
Sonoko snapped her fingers. "Yep, that one! Supposedly, a night guard saw a suit of medieval armor… get up and start walking around at midnight!"
"Wait, that's the strange incident? A ghost story?" Ran hesitated—she wasn't exactly a fan of spooky stuff.
"Isn't that the best part? It totally fits the mysterious vibe of the Middle Ages! You wanted to go anyway, right? Come on, let's check it out together!" Sonoko suddenly turned to Karasawa. "You should come too, Karasawa-kun! You haven't really explored Mī-chō yet, have you?"
Your map of Yan Country is looking a little short…
Karasawa instantly saw through Sonoko's not-so-subtle plan, but played along smoothly. "Sure. But Mouri-san still needs to pick up Conan after school, right? Why don't we bring him along too?"
After all, today marked the official beginning of the fake elementary schooler's endless first-grade life. Ran, being half a parent at this point, wasn't going to leave him alone.
"That little brat, huh… Alright." If they didn't pick up Conan, Ran would probably back out. And if it ended up just her and Karasawa going to the exhibit… well, that would make it something else entirely. She'd probably get turned down.
So: one extra child-shaped third wheel. Sonoko sighed.
After school, they stopped by Teitan Elementary to pick up Conan. Karasawa finally met the infamous Junior Detective League and was immediately gifted with a less-than-enthusiastic side-eye from Conan.
A handsome new transfer student, now living downstairs, spending time with Ran morning to night—the frequency of interaction didn't lose out to Kudou Shinichi in the slightest. Conan's romantic rival radar was on full alert.
Karasawa couldn't be bothered to engage with this vinegar-soaked East Asian tsundere. He simply responded with a magnanimous, understanding smile.
That's just how men who can't change back are—show them a pretty childhood friend with a good-looking guy nearby, and they will panic.
As Sonoko talked about the museum, Karasawa rummaged through his memory for any relevant case. Quietly, he pulled out his phone and began typing in the names of possible victims and perpetrators—one by one—into his Nav app.
Nothing triggered.
Not surprising. In the Conan-verse, aside from bombings, most murders aren't random. They're born out of tangled personal networks.
Even though the dead often deserved it more than the killers—like that incident he'd just interrupted with Maru Denjirou—most of these cases were driven by petty grievances, not the kind of psychological warping that created a Palace. The Thieves of Heart weren't miracle workers. They could smack around perverts, but they couldn't cure emotional rot or sudden terminal illness.
That said, Karasawa had already tested out the names of several high-screentime characters, and…
Well, say what you will about the Conan world, it sure wasn't short on Palaces.
Too bad the main cast were mostly rivals and logic battles, unlikely to ever get embroiled in a murder case. That really took the wind out of his sails. Still, the abundance of Palaces gave him plenty of material to work with.
As a multi-playthrough veteran, Karasawa knew the key to a Palace forming was "a desire powerful enough to warp perception," regardless of morality. Scumbags could form them, but so could people scarred by trauma, or zealots chasing twisted ideals.
If he accidentally crushed a key figure's obsession, that could derail everything. Phantom Thieves were here to advance the plot and uncover truths—not to crush souls and derail character arcs.
"There it is! Mifune Art Museum!" Sonoko's shout snapped Karasawa out of his thoughts. "The haunted armor's in the medieval exhibit they've got running right now."
"Sonoko-neechan, we're here to see an art exhibit, not go ghost-hunting…" Conan muttered, twitching at her volume. Was yelling about urban legends really appropriate in front of the entrance?
Sonoko waved him off. "What's the big deal? We're still buying tickets." With that, she grabbed Karasawa's arm and tugged him along to the line.
Karasawa looked up at the museum banner. Standing in the glow of his own Grim Reaper aura, he walked through the doors of this soon-to-be crime scene with the solemn air of a man attending a funeral.