Vineyard [Detective Conan fanfic, Vermouth x Gin]

Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Detective Conan belongs to Gosho Aoyama and associated parties. I do not make money nor own anything with the exception of my own original characters.

Author's note: The main storyline stays the same with added content. But it has been heavily rewritten and uploaded as of 28/06/2022, so please read it from the beginning. This story is officially set in an alternative universe where the Miyanos and Akais aren't related.

Chapter 24

Masumi heard ample stories and warnings about this man. Her brother had been crystal clear about how dangerous he was. Nonetheless, in the bright light of day, in the middle of a supermarket, a man picking out shopping carts didn't look at all threatening. Being the rays of sunshine that she was, cautions were out of the window.

"Good morning." Masumi cheerfully introduced herself. "Do you remember me? I'm Masumi—Shu's little sister."

She was expecting an answer, a smile, or a nod, but he simply stared at her. Much to her surprise, he pushed his trolley aside and unlocked another one from the stack. "For me? Oh, thank you. How sweet of you!"

Her joy didn't last long when the man disappeared into the maze of aisles and her wonky cart veered heavily left every time she pushed.

***

Gin hated the chatterboxes of the world. He didn't know the girl, for starters, and most importantly, he didn't care what she had to say. Usually, Vermouth would engage with them, leaving him in peace. His vein was about to pop when they randomly bumped into each other again. And he was being careful and steered clear of baby products on purpose to avoid her. Alas, people had to eat, and he should have opted for the butcher.

"Hi!" Masumi's chirpy nature refused a little hiccup to get her down.

To Vermouth's eternal displeasure, Gin learned over the years that the quickest way to shut these talkers up was to be brutally blunt. "You talk too much."

"Er?" Masumi stood there, dumbfounded as the man disappeared from sight again.

***

Envy was a green-eyed monster, and the monster grew bigger around lunch. For convenience, the agents gathered around a spare worktable and enjoyed a quick meal. Their mouths would water uncontrollably the moment their mysterious instructor opened her lunch box, compared to the usual sandwiches, pies, and salads. Her food was getting outrageous. They were fine with perfectly pan-seared salmon or a lovely ham flower. However, when they saw her chopstick slide through a paper-thin egg crêpe parcel to reveal golden fried rice dotted with chicken and vegetables, they cracked.

An agent asked, "When do you have the time?" They all worked for at least twelve hours a day. The subjects were strenuous and exhausting enough.

"I don't." Vermouth smiled. "My husband is a gourmet cook."

"How sweet of him!" The man was either very skilled or very dedicated, or both.

"He is."

"You love to give people false impressions, don't you?" Mary's words burst the warm bubble of delight. "Sweet? Him?"

"I am supposed to teach them that things are not what they look like." Vermouth grinned, confirming the accusation. "Yes, he can be difficult."

"That's one word for it. I'm thinking of several others."

"You barely met my husband, Mary. I don't think you have said more than ten words with him."

"That speaks volumes."