Detective Conan: I'm a Boy, But They Treat Me Like a Big Sister — Chapter 100

Chapter 100: Mom Is Home Early Today

Tōhō Getsukai sat in the plush leather seats of the Suzuki family car, his hands still lightly holding onto Ran and Sonoko. In the quiet of his mind, he was testing out his portable storage space. He mentally targeted the velvet brooch gift box resting in his shopping bag.

It vanished into the void of his consciousness. He released his mental grip, and it instantly reappeared in the bag.

‘Not bad at all,’he mused. He wouldn’t need to lug around a heavy tote bag full of bottles and jars whenever he went out from now on. Sunscreen, hand cream, hair ties, band-aids, spare clothes, slippers—he could dump it all into the invisible inventory. Sure, it was a bit weird for a perfectly straight guy to haul around a maiden’s survival kit. But for the flawless, ever-prepared’Sister Tōhō’? It was practically a job requirement.

Sonoko pressed her weight against his arm, shaking it gently with a contented sigh. “Sister, you were totally zoning out just now.”

Tōhō smoothly adjusted the gift box inside the paper bag, masking his little inventory experiment. “I was just thinking about logistics. Wondering where to stash the sunscreen for tomorrow.”

“Put it in my bag!” Sonoko’s hand shot up immediately, nearly smacking the car roof. “The Second Miss Suzuki Exclusive Mobile Warehouse is ready to provide full service for Sister Tōhō!”

Ran adjusted the brim of her white hat, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Sonoko, you make it sound like you’re applying for a corporate job.”

“I’m securing my monopoly!” Sonoko declared, throwing her free arm around Ran’s shoulders. “Anyway, you two are heading back to Eri Kisaki’s place tonight, right? I’ll be a good girl and not crash your precious mother-daughter reunion.”

Tōhō arched an eyebrow, a dry smile tugging at his lips. “The great Sonoko Suzuki is actually volunteering to give us space?”

“Sister, you wound me! I might be clingy, but I have boundaries!” Sonoko clutched her chest in mock agony, though her confident facade cracked just a fraction a second later. “I mean… the boundaries are pretty thin, but they exist.”

When the sleek black sedan eventually glided to a halt outside Eri Kisaki’s upscale apartment complex, the driver opened the doors. Sonoko leaned entirely out the window, waving frantically and shouting “See you tomorrow!” with all the dramatic flair of a heroine being shipped off to war.

Ran hooked her arm through Tōhō’s, her canvas bag swinging lightly from her other shoulder as they walked toward the lobby. “Sister Tōhō, was it just me, or was Sonoko especially hyper today?”

“When is she ever operating at a normal frequency?” Tōhō replied smoothly.

Ran giggled. “Fair point.”

They stepped into the quiet hum of the elevator. As the doors slid shut, Ran pulled out her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen to text Kogoro Mouri.

[Dad, I’m staying at Mom’s place tonight. I won’t be back. Remember to actually heat up the bento in the fridge before you eat it.]

A few seconds later, the screen lit up with a blunt reply.

[Oh. Stay safe.]

Ran stared at the glowing text, her shoulders trembling with suppressed laughter. “I bet Dad is absolutely thrilled right now. No one to nag him about his drinking. Since I’m not coming back tonight, he’s definitely cracking open a cold beer to celebrate his freedom.”

The elevator chimed, depositing them on Eri’s floor. As they walked down the carpeted hallway, Ran’s pace slowed, a thoughtful look crossing her face.

“Sister… why do you think Mom suddenly started coming home so early lately? Usually, whenever I call her, she’s buried in the office—organizing legal files, meeting clients, or stuck at some endless networking dinner. Did the law firm run out of cases?”

Tōhō pulled a set of keys from his pocket and slid one into the lock. He had absolutely zero intention of preserving Eri Kisaki’s pride on this matter.

“It’s because,” he began, pushing the heavy door open and stepping into the entryway to toe off his shoes, “I gave Eri Kisaki a stern lecture a few days ago.”

Ran, who was halfway through slipping off her right shoe, froze completely. “You… lectured Mom?”

“Yes. I ordered her to cancel all non-essential social engagements this week and be home for dinner before eight o’clock sharp.”

“You used the word ‘ordered’ on Mom?” Ran stood paralyzed in the entryway for two full seconds. Then, the absurdity of the situation hit her. She clutched her stomach, her laughter echoing off the walls as she practically crouched on the floor. “Oh my god… as expected, only Sister Tōhō can keep the Queen of the Court in check!”

She wheezed, finally managing to swap her shoes for a pair of indoor slippers. “Dad has been trying to win arguments against her for over a decade and failing miserably, but Sister solved her workaholic habits with a single sentence!”

Tōhō reached down, gently pulling the giggling girl back to her feet. “Keep your voice down. Your mom is going to hear you.”

“But it’s too funny!” Ran wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye. “If Dad found out you ordered her around like that, he’d be so depressed.”

Tōhō set his shopping bags on the wooden entryway cabinet, carefully aligning their discarded shoes. “That’s exactly why you need to visit her more often. Your presence gives her a concrete reason to actually clock out on time.”

Ran didn’t answer right away. A soft, complicated warmth settled in her eyes as she shoved her phone into her pocket and adjusted her bag strap.

The sharp rustle of turning pages drifted from the living room. Eri Kisaki sat elegantly on the edge of the plush sofa, a thick stack of legal briefs resting on her lap. Her signature glasses caught the warm overhead light.

She had, without a doubt, heard every single word exchanged in the hallway. But a top-tier lawyer never let her composure slip, even when her own daughter was laughing at her expense.

“Are you two planning to hold court in the entryway all night?” she called out, her tone smooth and unbothered.

Ran immediately bounded into the living room, crossing the distance in three quick strides before flopping down heavily onto the sofa cushions beside her mother. The sudden impact made Eri’s neat stack of files slide dangerously. She quickly raised a hand to steady them, shooting her daughter a mild glare.

“Slow down, Ran. You’re a high school student now. Why are you still so impulsive?”

“I’m staying over tonight!” Ran announced, completely ignoring the scolding.

“I heard.” Eri closed the top folder with a soft snap and tapped the cushion beside her. “Sit properly.”

Ran immediately straightened her posture, playing the obedient daughter. But barely a second passed before her excitement bubbled over again. “Mom, you have to hear about today! We went to Odaiba Marine Park!”

Tōhō picked up his bags and smoothly bypassed the living room, heading straight for the kitchen. He knew when to give the mother and daughter their rare, uninterrupted space. “I’ll heat up some milk. You two catch up.”

Eri watched Ran’s bright, eager face, her manicured finger tapping rhythmically against the cardboard file cover. “Are you this obedient when you’re at your father’s place too?”

“Uh, well…” Ran hesitated, scratching her cheek.

From the kitchen, the sound of the refrigerator door opening echoed out. “She’s the one in charge of managing people at Uncle Mouri’s agency,” Tōhō called out, his voice laced with dry amusement. “She doesn’t get managed.”

Ran nodded vigorously. “Exactly!”

Eri let out a soft, knowing hum. “That man certainly needs someone to manage his life.”

In less than three seconds, the mother and daughter had reached absolute consensus.

Ran eagerly unlocked her phone, swiping through her gallery. “Mom, look at this! Sonoko took an amazing photo of us!”

She tapped the screen and proudly presented it to Eri. The digital frame captured a perfect, frozen moment of chaos. A fierce sea breeze was whipping Ran’s white hat off her head, her body leaning dangerously forward. But right behind her, Tōhō was anchored like a statue. His striking silver hair was blown wildly around his face, one hand pressing firmly down on his own hat brim while his other arm was wrapped securely around Ran’s back, pulling her safely into his orbit.

Ran’s ears flushed a faint pink just looking at it, but she eagerly pushed the screen closer to her mother. “See this one? My hat almost blew right into the bay, but Sister Tōhō caught me in an instant!”

Eri took the phone. Instead of praising the dramatic rescue, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, her lawyer’s eyes scanning for liabilities. “If the wind was that strong, didn’t it occur to either of you to just take your hats off?”

“Is that really the takeaway here?” Ran muttered, deflating slightly.

“Of course it is.” Eri pinched the screen, zooming in mercilessly on the bottom edge of the photo. Her sharp gaze locked onto the tip of Ran’s shoe, which was hovering precariously close to the edge of the boardwalk railing. “Look at your footing. You were half a second away from tumbling into the water. Next time a hat flies away, let it go. Don’t chase it.”

Ran’s head drooped in instant defeat. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Tōhō walked back into the living room, carrying two steaming mugs of milk. He set one down on the coaster next to Ran, offering a mild defense. “Her reflexes just kicked in a bit too fast. But she never actually crossed the safety railing.”

“Exactly! Sister Tōhō saved me before anything bad could happen!” Ran perked up, tapping the phone screen again. “Besides, you have to admit the photo itself looks incredible, right?”

Eri didn’t immediately deny it. She held the phone at arm’s length, squinting slightly, then brought it closer to inspect the details.

Tōhō stood by the glass coffee table, glancing down at the image. He had to admit, Sonoko’s photography skills were surprisingly top-tier. The framing was dynamic, the composition was perfectly balanced, and she had captured the exact millisecond of tension. For someone who spent ninety percent of her day spouting absolute nonsense, the Second Miss Suzuki had incredibly steady hands when it mattered. She was practically a prodigy when it came to social media aesthetics.

Eri’s eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed another detail. “Yuekui,” she asked suddenly, her tone shifting to a motherly interrogation, “were you wearing a skirt when you pulled off this stunt?”

Since they had gone straight from classes, Tōhō was indeed still wearing the pleated Sobu High School uniform skirt.

Eri turned the screen toward him, tapping the fabric billowing in the wind. “Lunging forward to catch someone while wearing a skirt in gale-force winds… aren’t you afraid of flashing someone?”

Tōhō smoothly slid the second mug of hot milk into Eri’s hand, a flawless, unbothered smile gracing his lips. “No problem at all. I have it under control.”

“Fine.” Eri studied his confident expression for a few seconds before sighing. She set her legal files aside, deciding not to press the issue of his modesty.

“Actually, you performed exceptionally well today, Eri Kisaki,” Tōhō said, smoothly changing the subject. “Coming home before eight o’clock is a major improvement.”

He reached into his bag, retrieved the velvet box he had been experimenting with earlier, and placed it on the coffee table right in front of her. “Consider this your reward.”

Eri didn’t open it immediately. Her sharp eyes flicked over to Ran, silently asking for context.

“Mom, Sister Tōhō specifically picked that out for you from the Suzuki family’s private collection hall!” Ran explained eagerly.

“The Suzuki family’s collection hall?” Eri repeated, her eyebrows rising slightly at the sheer monetary weight of that name.

“Mm-hmm!” Ran nodded, her smile widening. “Sonoko’s uncle told Sister Tōhō she could pick absolutely anything she wanted from the vault. And Sister chose that brooch, saying it would look absolutely perfect on you!”

Eri finally reached out and popped the lid open. She carefully lifted the silver brooch from its black velvet bed, holding it up to the overhead light. The embedded gemstone caught the illumination, refracting a brilliant, crystal-clear luster that screamed understated elegance. It was a piece practically designed to command respect in a high-stakes courtroom or a formal gala.

“I suppose I can wear it when I go out tomorrow,” Eri murmured, lowering her head to inspect the silver detailing. “It’s alright.”

Ran immediately slapped both hands over her mouth to muffle her giggles. In Eri Kisaki’s strict, emotionally guarded dictionary, ‘It’s alright’translated directly into:’I absolutely love it and I will never take it off.’

Eri carefully placed the brooch back into its box. Then, without looking up, she cleared her throat. “By the way… that photo from earlier. Send it to me.”

Ran blinked in surprise, her hands dropping from her face. “Wait, Mom, you want a copy too?”