"Hm? Kuroda, why aren't you sitting with the others in the audience?"
Shinichi Kudo spotted Ren Kuroda coming down the corridor and raised a brow curiously.
Ren shrugged. "Got chewed out by Ran's mom. Said I shouldn't be drinking."
"Ah, yeah, Aunt Eri's like that. She doesn't let a single grain of sand in her eye," Shinichi said knowingly. Personally, he didn't think drinking was such a big deal. He'd tried it once at home out of curiosity—but the taste was awful, and the fuzzy feeling messed with his focus. Alcohol dulled the brain, and that was death for a detective. So he'd never touched it again.
Ren wisely didn't mention that he regularly got Kogoro Mouri plastered. Instead, he changed the subject. "They're both here, you know. You're not going to say hi?"
Shinichi shook his head immediately. "Forget it. If I go up there, I'll just get yelled at. Uncle Kogoro will probably accuse me of stealing his cases again."
He gave a weary sigh. "And Aunt Eri… well, she used to scold me all the time when I was a kid. Now I barely even dare to breathe around her."
For a moment, even the great high school detective looked like a traumatized child.
Ren gave him a sideways look. "You can't avoid them forever, you know. What are you gonna do, never face her again?"
"I know, I know… I'll deal with it later," Shinichi muttered, scratching his head in defeat.
Ren didn't press further.
Just then, Sonoko arrived, carrying a plastic bag from a convenience store. "What are you two doing lurking out here? Kogoro-san and Eri-san are already sitting down."
"We were waiting for you, of course," Ren said smoothly. "Would've been awkward to show up without you."
"Exactly," Shinichi nodded quickly, going along.
"Heh, you two aren't scared, are you?" Sonoko teased, grinning. "Come on then—let's go!"
She motioned for them to follow.
Ren walked up easily—he had no reason to feel guilty. Shinichi, on the other hand, hesitated a moment before following with the air of a man marching to his doom.
Back in the stands, Sonoko greeted Ran's parents with her usual cheerful energy.
"Uncle Kogoro! Aunt Eri! Long time no see! How have you been?"
As she spoke, she handed them each a chilled bottle of oolong tea from her bag.
Both Kogoro and Eri smiled warmly at her. They'd always liked Sonoko—polite, lively, and charming. The kind of girl every parent wished their kid brought home.
Shinichi seized the chance to greet them too.
There were too many people around for Kogoro to openly grumble about him, so the older detective just gave a noncommittal "hm."
Eri responded politely, but her gaze soon drifted toward Ren.
She wanted to apologize—to say something, anything—but the crowded stands made that impossible. If she apologized here, Kogoro would definitely pick a fight over it.
Later, she decided. I'll apologize later, privately.
Ten minutes into the ongoing matches, the finals were announced.
Sonoko jumped up, eyes shining. "It's starting! Look, Ran's on the stage!"
"There she is! My daughter—of course she's amazing!" Kogoro puffed his chest out proudly, as if Ran's success were all thanks to his "guidance."
Eri didn't even glance at him. "So what if she's your daughter? That doesn't make it your achievement," she said coolly, cutting him down without mercy.
Kogoro's expression darkened as he shot her a look that clearly said, Really? In front of the kids?
Fine, his glare seemed to add, if you won't give me face, I won't give you any either.
"Hmph! Like you're one to talk!" he shot back. "Someone around here even forgot when her own daughter's finals were—if Sonoko hadn't reminded her, she'd still be sitting in her office!"
Eri's brows twitched upward. She was about to retort when Sonoko jumped between them with a strained smile. "Okay, okay! Let's all calm down and focus on Ran's match, alright?"
"Hmph!" The two of them turned away from each other at the same time, crossing their arms in mutual stubbornness.
Shinichi sighed in silent relief. Thank goodness they're too busy fighting to notice me. If either of them turned their attention his way, he'd be the one under interrogation right now.
Ren could only shake his head. Poor Ran… growing up between those two must've been exhausting.
He turned his attention back to the arena just as the match began.
Ran and her opponent, Haruna Wada, bowed to each other, both composed and restrained. Neither attacked right away.
They circled each other carefully, neither willing to make the first move. Minutes ticked by in tense silence.
Ran held her ground, patient as stone. She'd once sparred with Ren for half an hour without either of them throwing a single punch—her patience was nearly inhuman now.
Wada, on the other hand, was starting to lose hers. She'd trained her offense under Makoto Kyogoku himself, but she hadn't learned his patience.
When Ran still refused to strike, Wada finally lunged forward, throwing a flurry of test punches.
Ren's eyes narrowed slightly. Her defense is holding up well.
Wada's brows knit together. No matter what she threw—jab, hook, kick—Ran blocked everything cleanly. No openings. No breaks.
What the hell? Wada thought. When did she get so defensive?
Her frustration flashed across her face—and Ran caught it instantly.
She's thinking.
Ran darted in, a sharp feint toward the face.
Wada reflexively pulled her head back—only to realize too late it was a bluff.
The real attack came low, sweeping.
"Crap—!"
Before she could adjust, Ran's leg hooked around hers and sent her crashing to the floor. Ran followed through with a clean, decisive strike.
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP!
The referee's whistle cut through the air, hand raised toward Ran. Point scored.
Wada pushed herself up, expression tense. Something was wrong—very wrong.
Her style… it's completely different.
Ran had always been known for aggressive offense, yet now she was unpredictable, switching effortlessly between defense and bursts of attack.
The match resumed.
This time Wada moved first, testing again—only for Ran to suddenly explode forward, unleashing a barrage of punches.
"Right straight… another right straight…" Wada frowned, blocking. Does she only have one move now?
She started preparing a counterattack—but at that exact moment, Ran twisted, spun, and unleashed a sudden roundhouse kick.
The heel of her foot sliced through the air with a whoosh just in front of Wada's eyes.
The other girl froze. Her heart skipped a beat.
If she'd tried to counter just now, that kick would've landed squarely in her jaw.
Cold sweat trickled down her neck. Her aggression evaporated, replaced by wariness.
She's impossible to read, Wada thought in disbelief. Who in the world follows a series of straight punches with a spinning kick like that?