"Heterochromia," Conan ejaculated, finally synthesizing the visual data. "It is not merely albinism—he is also afflicted with heterochromia iridum. That is an exceedingly rare biological anomaly."
"My, you possess the likeness of a woodland sprite," Ayumi whispered.
"Nay, he mirrors the image of a celestial messenger," Mitsuhiko supplemented.
"Hey, Suzuki-san," Genta queried, cocking his head in bewilderment, "do not tell me you are a lass masquerading as a lad, correct?"
Genta was incapable of discerning Leon's gender through his aesthetic alone, as his beauty was strikingly androgynous.
Ran also remained transfixed. She had received accounts from Sonoko suggesting her younger brother resembled a cherub. Initially, she had dismissed it as sisterly hyperbole, but observing him now, it was manifest that Sonoko had been entirely truthful.
Sonoko monitored the collective astonishment, elevating her chin with a flourish of arrogance, palpably exultant in her brother's uniqueness. She chuckled inwardly. Even she had been struck with disbelief at the moment of Leon's nativity. A milk-white infant who neither wailed nor shrieked was an anomaly in itself, and due to his precarious constitution, he had been reared under the constant vigilance of elite medical practitioners.
Naturally, Sonoko would visit him alongside her elder sister during their sojourns. Upon learning that Leon would finally migrate to Japan for his education, she had been ecstatic. However, her musings were fractured when Genta questioned Leon's masculinity. Sonoko retorted instantly, "Of course Leon is a boy."
"What? He is truly a male?" Genta blurted, scrutinizing Suzuki with a mask of perplexity.
Leon maintained his characteristic equanimity. His visage remained a void of expression, his lips a rigid, unyielding line. His sapphire and emerald orbits were vacant and remote, lending him the appearance of a sentient marionette.
"How can Suzuki-san be a boy? He possesses the features of a girl!" Genta protested.
Ayumi and Mitsuhiko nodded in silent agreement as they examined Leon with greater scrutiny.
"And his eyes are of divergent hues," Ayumi remarked.
"Perhaps he is utilizing tinted contact lenses," Mitsuhiko posited, peering into Leon's gaze.
Sonoko crossed her arms and declared, "Negative. Leon's eyes have been thus since the moment of his birth. They are not artificial enhancements."
"What? Those are authentic?" Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi exclaimed in a startled chorus. They began to speculate whether Suzuki-san was some manner of living effigy.
Their ruminations were truncated when the chauffeur announced their arrival at the first destination. He engaged the brakes, exited the vehicle, and slid the door ajar. Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi scrambled out, waving fervently as they shouted, "Gratitude for the transport! We shall see you on the morrow, Conan and Suzuki-san!"
"Hey, there is no academy tomorrow," Conan reminded them dryly.
"Oh, precisely—it is the feast of St. Valentine," Ayumi recollected.
Genta and Mitsuhiko guffawed as the memory resurfaced. The driver secured the door, reclaimed his seat, and accelerated toward the subsequent stop.
Ayumi, Genta, and Mitsuhiko watched the vehicle dissolve into the horizon.
"I was genuinely convinced Suzuki-san was a girl," Genta remarked, massaging the nape of his neck.
"Nay," Mitsuhiko added. "I suspected he—or rather, it—was a celestial entity."
"Truly, Suzuki-san resembles a porcelain doll," Ayumi contributed. The trio persisted in their dialogue concerning Suzuki-san's induction into the Detective Boys, already strategizing the necessary accommodations for his condition. As they conversed, they wandered toward their respective dwellings. Their homes were proximal, mere minutes away, yet their pace was uncharacteristically languid.
Within the limousine, Ran continued to study Leon, while Sonoko assisted him in decanting his beverage. Sonoko gripped the flask with precision, pouring the mahogany chocolate infusion into the vessel Leon held. Meanwhile, Conan engaged the driver, providing the coordinates for the Mouri Detective Agency.
Once Sonoko concluded the pour, Leon elevated the cup and took a measured sip. Sonoko smiled tenderly, observing his subtle, almost fragile movements.
Then Ran spoke. "Is he truly your biological sibling? He bears no resemblance to you whatsoever."
"What are you implying? Am I unsightly, Ran?!" Sonoko erupted.
"No, that was not my insinuation," Ran stammered, her gaze drifting back to Leon. "It is simply… he possesses no shared traits with you."
Sonoko scoffed, though she understood the source of Ran's skepticism. Leon appeared as a different species entirely, a consequence of his rare genetic tapestry.
Just then, Leon's gravelly voice queried her again.
"Nee-san… who was that burly individual in the crimson shirt earlier?"
"Oh, you refer to that muscular fellow? That was Wakamatsu-san," Sonoko replied. She noted Leon's eyes, anchored upon her, silently awaiting further elucidation. That unwavering stare, that hollow silence—it felt as though he were beckoning her to continue.
"Leon, you are inquisitive, are you not?" Sonoko added with a faint titter. "Fufufu… he extended an invitation for us to attend a Valentine gala."
"A Valentine gala…" Leon murmured into the stillness.
He gradually lidded his eyes, submerging into a profound cognitive state. Ran, Sonoko, and even Conan monitored him with bated breath as he lapsed into silence. Then, in that reedy, moribund voice, Leon spoke once more.
"A homicide… utilizing toxin…!"
Conan arched a brow, then reiterated the phrase in Japanese, his tone heavy with sudden gravity. "A murder… using poison…"
Sonoko and Ran grasped the implication immediately, and a chilling silence descended. Ran, in particular, appeared disoriented and unsettled, grappling with the macabre weight of the statement.
Sonoko's pupils dilated. This was the quintessence of why she had labeled Leon an enigma—not merely for his intellect, but because his utterances often manifested as harbingers, fragments of reality that had yet to solidify, akin to a dark foresight.
She swallowed hard and whispered, "Leon… do you imply tomorrow? At the Valentine festivities?"
Conan and Ran shifted their scrutiny between Sonoko and Leon, who slowly unveiled his eyes and took another draught from his vessel. Ran turned to Sonoko, her voice trembling. "What is the meaning of this?"
Conan interjected, "Yes, what exactly is transpiring here?"
Sonoko crossed her arms, falling into a deep, troubled reverie. "Well… how can I possibly elucidate this…"
She knew this was not an isolated incident. His words had frequently served as subtle portents—minor details that invariably came to pass. But those had been pedestrian, easily dismissed. This, however, was of a different magnitude. Leon had articulated something far more sinister—a claim of premeditated death by poison.
The trio sat in a heavy, confused silence.
Then Leon's debilitated voice fractured the tension once more.
"Do not overtax your intellect… I am merely conversing with myself."
A protracted pause ensued. Somehow, the dismissal eased the immediate strain, yet the ominous shadow of his prediction remained, impossible to truly eradicate or ignore.
AM N. NOT.(っ－＿－)っ♤♤DRAFT♤♤