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Relative Truth
by Becky Tailweaver
File 12: A Game of Hearts
The house was strangely quiet when Kaito returned from his grumpy little hike around the neighborhood. Despite his still-dark mood, the silence inside unnerved him--his mother usually had music playing, or sometimes the television was on, and he could normally hear her puttering around the house, humming along with the stereo. But as he slipped off his shoes and stepped down the hall, he could barely make out any signs of life. It was like coming home last night--quiet house and worried voices, and finding his mother so stressed and upset...
His aimless bout of wandering that afternoon hadn't done him much good at all; it hadn't helped lift the weight he felt on his heart. His faceless uncle was still on his mind--and if Yuusaku Kudo had seen fit to call his mother up and cause her such distress, then he was likely to appear soon. Kaito was both dreading and anticipating the chance to finally meet the man, but he knew that he wasn't going to be the first objective on Yuusaku's list of targets.
The first one to be sought out would be Shinichi.
Following the faint sounds of kitchen-noises, Kaito gritted his teeth, feeling an uncharacteristic spike of anger at the thought of his uncle reaming Shinichi out for this whole mess. It wasn't his cousin's fault--Kaito had been the one to start the ball rolling, to deal this hand of cards. He'd found in Shinichi such a rare companion, such an unexpected friend, and he didn't want to lose what cautious ground they'd gained because of Ojisan's ire. And besides, the revelations had been his own doing; he wouldn't stand for Shinichi to take the blame in this.
Fumiyo Kuroba was in the kitchen, working at the sink. Kaito stopped in the door, almost surprised to find her there. She was uncharacteristically quiet and her motions were quick and nervous; if he didn't know better, he'd guess her hands were shaking.
"Mom? I'm home," he announced quietly.
She turned to glance at him, something hurting and hollow in her eyes. "Kaito...hello. Dinner is still on the table; I kept your portion warm for you."
"Um...thanks."
Puzzled by her reservedness, he watched her wash dishes for a moment before going on, heading for the table--he was a bit hungry, no matter what sort of mood he was in. At the table, he was further perplexed; he quietly noted that it seemed she'd made a lot of food tonight, but most of it was gone--and she was washing dishes just now, plates and cups...more than just two sets. And they had been the formal dishes, too--the ones his mother kept in a high cupboard for guests and special occasions.
Had they had visitors? He wondered about the prospect as he began to eat; it could have been anyone, from the neighbors to an acquantance of his mother's. If Shinichi were there, he mused to himself, he'd be able to make certain--Kaito held his own intelligence and observation skills as second to none, but there was just something sharper about his quiet cousin that could take tiny details and put them all together into solid facts. Shinichi could probably tell what sort of guests they'd had, from evidence left around the table and sitting room.
Kaito finished his meal quickly, thinking ruefully that he should take some deduction lessons from his cousin--it might even make his own "occupation" easier. To save his mother the trouble, he carried his plate to the kitchen, staying silent even though he wanted to ask her what was wrong. She accepted the dishes from him just as quietly, somehow not meeting his eyes. He turned to go, reaching the kitchen door before her soft voice stopped him.
"Kaito..."
"Hm?" He glanced back, solemn.
At last, his mother was gazing at him, her eyes filled with sadness and affection. "Kaito, I want you to know...I love you, and I'm very proud of you. You're the most important thing in the world to me. I want you to remember that, so...be careful, and take care of yourself. No matter what happens from now on...remember..."
"Thanks, Mom. You know I will." For the first time that day, he smiled. "Don't worry. I know Dad is watching over me."
She smiled too, tearfully, wordlessly, her gaze alone sufficient to communicate all her love and pride and concern.
"Good night, Mom," he added quietly, turning to head for his room.
Ran and Conan stepped out of Professor Agasa's house, both silent and somber. Ran was watching Conan carefully--he was so morose she could almost see the black raincloud above his head. His small feet dragged and his hands were shoved in his pockets; his expression was equal parts anger, despair, and petulance.
"Shinichi," she said softly, so that no one might overhear. "Come on, it's not that bad..."
"But...a week...!" the boy said, with an air of having repeated this incredulous sentence several times before.
"I know," Ran replied as they headed down the Professor's walk. "But Haibara-chan..." She grimaced at her own choice of names for the woman-child in the house behind them. "...said that you had to wait that long for your own safety. If you take one pill after another--you know what she said!"
"I know, I know..." he muttered, still sulking. "But I wanted to...and...a whole week...!"
Their arrival at Agasa's had been greeted in the Profesor's usual way--Conan-kun and Ran, just coming for a visit. The older man had been quite shocked when Shinichi told him bluntly that Ran knew now--and Ai Haibara, having overheard, was rather displeased with him for revealing everything.
Watching Haibara and Ran lock gazes in a female staring contest had been a tense several seconds for Shinichi. But Haibara said nothing bitter and Ran didn't even seem to get angry, so he breathed a sigh of relief--disaster avoided.
Then had come more discussion. While Shinichi pleaded for another capsule of temporary cure--only to be firmly denied--Agasa scuttled off to prepare some tea. When it was served, the four of them had sat uncomfortably on the couches to talk about their situation now. Ran got a little more of the story--told mostly by the ever-cool Ai, filling in details that Shinichi had left out in his nervous, hurried version at the Kudo house. Always a moderating presence, Agasa reassured Ran that right now, things were fairly safe as long as she was careful not to let on what she knew. There was nothing she had to do at this point, except to go about like normal and look after Conan--in response to which Shinichi muttered that he didn't need "looking after," thank you very much.
Encouraged by Agasa's--and eventually Ai's--acceptance as one of the People Who Know, Ran just asked him what he'd do without her to watch over him, lightly patting his head once with a wink just to remind him.
To the puzzlement of the other two, Shinichi just blushed and sank down into the cushions, acceding to "Conan's" need for a guardian. End of argument.
By the time the conference was over, both Ran and Shinichi were a little more at ease--although Shinichi begged once more for a capsule, depressed that he couldn't get Haibara to give in. But Ai did turn to Ran and tell her that if Kudo-kun behaved himself, she would promise to give them the capsule next weekend.
It was dark outside and the hour was late as Ran and Conan exited Agasa's yard and began the trip back to the Mouri Detective Agency. Despite the reassurance of Agasa and Ai, Conan was still in a funk about the capsule and scuffed his way along behind Ran with a decidedly dejected air. His pouting did not go unnoticed by her, since she had been watching him for some time, so she finally spoke up.
"Shinichi, please, stop this. If I can wait until next weekend, you certainly can."
"You're not the one who's stuck," he complained bitterly. "And don't call me that out here--I'm Conan, remember?"
"Sorry. But it can't be that bad..." Ran replied, half uncertain.
"Oh, trust me, it is," Conan grumbled. "At the very least, there's surviving another week of kiddy school. Do you know how boring that is? My brain turns to jelly at the mere thought."
Ran tried to keep her giggle bottled in; Shinichi's feelings would be hurt if he thought she was mocking his situation. "It must be rough, then."
A loud sigh from behind her let her know that yes, indeed, it was rough and he was exasperated with it. "Now, now," she chided gently, "you were just bugging me about Conan, so you shouldn't get too out of character yourself."
She heard a cough. "You're right...sorry," Conan responded. "It's too easy to forget...now that I can talk with you."
They came to the first curb where they'd have to cross a street, waiting for the crosswalk light to flash green. There wasn't much traffic at this time in the evening, especially in this area, but one must always be careful. Almost out of habit, she reached down to Conan, touching his shoulder. He twitched, but didn't respond--until she spoke. "Shin--Conan-kun, your hand."
"Huh? Why? I thought--"
"Just give me your hand."
Hesitant, he obeyed, reaching up to let her clasp his small hand in hers. The light changed, and they crossed the street, but when they reached the other side she still didn't release him, continuing on down the sidewalk.
"Um, Ran...neechan? If you don't want to, you don't have to keep--"
"Be quiet."
Conan gulped, staying right at her side and trying to resist the urge to look up at her face. He was blushing enough as it was; despite the fact that he'd held Ran's hand so many times in the past, walking at her side just like this, there was something different about it now. Her grip was no longer the light, casual hold of a girl keeping a little child from wandering--her grasp was firm, gentle, close...as it had been when she'd held hands with Shinichi.
She knew whose hand she was holding. The knowledge warmed him, heating his cheeks, making him tighten his grip on her hand just a little more. Things would never be the same between them from now on--between Ran and Shinichi, Ran-neechan and Conan. He still worried for her safety, but it felt good to know she knew, to know she still accepted him, still cared about him. Suddenly his lack of height didn't matter quite as much as it had before.
They were both faintly smiling as they walked side by side. Outwardly they might have been only a teenage girl leading a little boy...but in their hearts and their dreams, Ran and Shinichi were a young couple walking home hand in hand on a beautiful evening, enjoying the peaceful conclusion of their somewhat interrupted date.
That is, peaceful until they arrived at Ran's home, to be greeted at the front door by a loud, irate Kogoro Mouri.
"Ran!" the private detective demanded, all but dragging her in the door. "Where have you been all day? I'm about to starve here! How dare you leave your father with nothing but a silly note and no food!"
Conan tiptoed around the fuming man, trying to stay out of harm's way and go find something to play up his kid act; he ended up plunking down on the far side of the living room next to a pile of Kamen Yaiba manga. Ran regained her balance, frowning primly, and firmly shrugged Kogoro's hands off of her shoulders. "Couldn't you have boiled some water and made a cup of noodles?" she asked, rather irritated herself at being accosted so soon after a relatively pleasant evening.
Kogoro grunted. "I've had instant ramen for breakfast and lunch. So what about dinner?"
"What about it?"
"Aren't you going to make me some?"
Ran sighed and rolled her eyes. "Of course, Dad. Far be it from me to disturb your evening TV time to concern you with when I'll get your supper prepared."
As Ran began to slip off her shoes, Kogoro stepped back to seat himself on the couch. "So where were you, anyway? I called Agasa and the Suzuki girl, and no one had seen you..."
"I went out by myself--is that okay with you?" Ran scowled, leaving her coat in the closet. "Jeeze, Dad, I'm not a little girl, you know."
"Ran-neechan's very responsible," Conan piped up from his seat on the carpet with childlike helpfulness, earning a glare from Kogoro.
"All the same, just a note that says 'I'm going out, make your own breakfast,' doesn't set a father's mind at ease," Kogoro grumbled, rooting out the remote and turning on the television. "You could run into kidnappers and murderers and I wouldn't have a clue where to start looking for you!"
That's for sure, Conan thought, hiding his twitching mouth behind the manga he was reading.
"Thank you for caring, Dad." Ran smiled softly behind his back, heading for the kitchen to fix up something warm and quick. The television nattered away in the living room while she worked. Gradually, the smell of hot food permeated the small apartment, drawing Conan in like a moth to flame, and he hovered around her to peer over the edge of the counter and see what was cooking. They shared a brief, secret grin there in the kitchen, where Ran's father couldn't see.
Dinner was served quickly and simply, with two hungry males eagerly digging in. Conan gulped his food silently, content to watch Ran out of the corner of his eye, but Kogoro continued to mutter about his daughter's lateness.
While Ran was clearing the dishes, Kogoro finally seemed to come to a head in his complaints. "Ran," he announced firmly and gruffly, standing to face her. "The next time you're late, I want you to call home."
Ran sighed, hiding her smile. "Yes, Dad, I will. I would have this time, but I was a little occupied. I...stopped to pick up Conan at the Professor's on my way home."
"You could have called from there."
"It's not her fault," Conan added in, smiling apologetically from somewhere around Kogoro's legs. "We had too much fun at Professor Agasa's! I guess it's my fault, huh?"
"Darn right!" Kogoro whacked the boy on the head to emphasize his displeasure.
"Ow!"
The plate in Ran's hands hit the floor, startling everyone--and she was suddenly gripping her father's forearm hard, her eyes bright and sharp. "Don't you dare hit him!"
Kogoro stared at her, taken aback--and Conan, rubbing his sore head, did the same. Ran glared at her father for a moment longer before relenting, realizing how she sounded. She whirled away, picking up the plate and checking it over for damage--luckily, it had landed on the carpet--and carrying it to the kitchen. "I just want you to stop doing that!" she called back severely. "Really, Dad, he's only a kid! Grow up!"
Recovering from his astonishment, Kogoro harrumphed loudly. "Feh, he's just a pint-size nuisance in sneakers," he retorted--without much conviction behind it.
"Only a kid?" Ouch...Ran, c'mon... Still rubbing his head, Conan edged out of arm's reach, resolving to give Kogoro a wide berth this evening.
What was Ran thinking? Jumping to his defense like that could be construed as a major change in behavior--something others might notice, even if Kogoro hadn't. He'd have to speak to her about it soon--as well as a few other things, to prepare her for the strenuous times ahead of them; she had to be ready to go on just as things had always been. Perhaps it would be hard for her, but it had been hard for him as well.
At least they were really together now.
Soft footsteps outside her bedroom door caused Ran to look up, hastily wiping her face and composing herself. She wasn't surprised when the door eased slowly open, just enough to admit a small tousled head that didn't even reach the height of the knob. Round blue eyes blinked at her from behind glass lenses, as if surprised to see her awake at this hour. In the light of her bedside lamp, the childish face was shadowed with sudden concern, quickly hidden.
"Oh...sorry," the boy whispered, drawing back. "I was just...um...checking on you. I guess...I'll just let you--"
"Conan-kun...Shinichi." Ran's voice stopped him, brought him back through the opening.
"Huh?"
"Please...stay. Just for a little while."
Shinichi gulped. "But...um..."
"Please?" Her eyes met his, and though her face was dry her cheeks were reddened, and her eyes held the memory of tears. She was just sitting there on her bed, her blankets untouched, her face lit dimly by the bedside light.
How could he say no to her? Quietly, he crept to her bedside, dropping off his slippers as he made the long-practiced hop-and-knee-up that put him on the bed beside her. He sat there in silence for a few moments, hands folded in his lap, glancing at her every so often.
"Ran...are...you okay?" he asked at last.
Ran took a deep breath, wiping briefly at the eye furthest from him. How could she begin to quantify her emotions into words? Such powerful, tangled things weren't really made to be expressed in speech. "I haven't gone to bed yet because part of me is afraid today was all just a crazy, terrible, wonderful dream and when I wake up, you'll still only be Conan-kun and my Shinichi will still be gone..."
Shinichi surprised her with his quiet snort, full of strange, sad humor. "I can't tell you how many times I've wished this was all a dream--Conan, the Black Organization, all of it. Except for this morning." He looked up to meet her eyes, smiling faintly as he removed Conan's glasses and set them on the bed beside him. "Ran, I'm still here, and I'm sure not going anywhere. I'll still be me--I'll still be Shinichi tomorrow. I always will. Even if sometimes I'm Conan too."
Ran sighed, as if a heavy load had been lifted. "I know...I'm just being silly..." She sniffed, wiping at her eyes again, trying to conceal her tears.
"But then...why are you crying?" he asked, barely above a whisper, his voice suddenly full of worries and shadows.
"I don't know," she confessed, her voice cracking a little. I could never hide anything from him...not from Conan-kun, not from Shinichi... "I just don't know. I feel so glad that I know the truth now, and I'm so relieved, but...I'm also scared for some reason, like I'm just going to lose you again...and I'm still mad at you because you lied, and you hid...and you didn't trust me..."
His frail shoulders drooped. "If it makes you feel this bad, I wish I hadn't told you--that way at least you'd still--"
"Still be waiting and worried and lonely for you?" Ran interrupted, more sharply than she'd intended. "How can you think I'd be better off like that? I told you I'm glad I know. The truth sometimes hurts, but it's better to be hurt by the truth than by lies."
Shinichi winced, remembering a time in the not-too-distant past when he'd spoken nearly the same words himself--he knew the sharp, clean bite of the cutting truth...and the burning, festering pain of lies was far worse than truth's briefer sting. "I'm sorry..."
"I wish you'd told me sooner," Ran said, more softly, lowering her head. "Or even from the beginning. We were best friends...and being lied to like that is like a betrayal. I missed you--the real you--while you were right beside me the whole time, just watching me suffer. I feel almost like...my feelings didn't mean anything to you...like they were less important than catching those Black guys."
Shinichi flinched again, hands fisting.
"I thought you were a little boy. I took you places, showed you things...I even lifted you up and held you...I told you things about me, and about...you...secrets I thought I was sharing with my adopted little brother..." A tear fell, flashing briefly in the lamplight before disappearing into her lap. "And you still...you still just kept... Can't you understand how that feels?"
"No." Shinichi swallowed hard, staring downward himself. "Only a little. I've always lived for the truth, and I know how much lies hurt...but I've felt like such an awful hypocrite for the longest time."
"Well, you are."
"I know," he replied. "And I hate myself for putting you through this...but I thought if you knew, and they knew you knew, they'd kill you. Or somehow I'd get found out, and you'd die anyway..." He glanced at her, brows furrowed with painful honesty. "Ran, please believe me; I would've told you everything, but I was scared to death of them--scared for you, and for everyone I care about. I've...seen what those bastards are capable of...and how far they go. I...I didn't want it to be you lying on the floor...in a puddle of blood..."
Ran glanced at him, knowing from the distant look in his eye that his vivid mind was giving him a graphic picture of the possibility he had just hinted at in words. He seemed to tremble briefly, as if lost in that image and living through the prospect of her death. "Shinichi..."
He blinked, haunted blue eyes turning once again to her. "I couldn't let that happen to you," he whispered. "I want to make things better for you but..." He stared at the small, frail hands in his lap. "...I just can't do much of anything, can I? I'm so damn helpless."
"No...you're not...!" she protested faintly, suddenly unable to bear the pain in his eyes. "I've seen you do such wonderful things--even like this, you've saved so many lives, done so much justice...!"
"At the cost of your trust," he sighed.
"But I can forgive you," Ran said with sudden strength. "And trust can grow again, even if it takes time. But once someone is dead...it's forever. You can't bring them back. With every mystery you solve--every murderer you stop--you're saving someone's life. Someone, somewhere...they're alive because of you."
He stared at her, caught by her raw, truthful words. "Ran..."
"I know you're trying your best to protect everyone," she continued softly, turning to face him fully. "Even when you lied to me...I understand why you did, even if it makes me sad. I know that's just how you are...you hate to see wrongs being done, or anyone in trouble, and you do so much trying to help... That's why you're so important to me...someone with a heart like yours is so rare. I could search the world over a thousand times and never find someone who cares for others as much or as deeply as you do..."
He hadn't realized she was as close as she was until her hand rested on his shoulder; he hadn't realized how hot his cheeks were until they suddenly burned at her touch. "Um...Ran..." he gulped, unsure of what to say--anything he could think of at the moment was totally inadequate next to what she'd just told him. "So...are you...not...mad at me any more?" he asked lamely, hopefully.
Her slight, amused smile surprisd him. "Of course I'm still mad at you," she said, her voice not quite so serious. "But that doesn't mean I can't forgive you. I forgive you, even if I'll still be angry with you for a while."
His breath came out in a relieved rush. "Thanks..."
The hand on his shoulder squeezed a little before withdrawing. "Shinichi," she said firmly, openly, "I do want to help you, too. If there's anything I can do, even if it's--"
"I'd rather you not be involved," he told her, somewhat quickly. "I don't want you to get hurt trying to--"
"I want to help you find a cure and beat those Black Organization guys," she repeated, frowning in seriousness. "Shinichi, you can't expect me to just--!"
"This is yet another reason I didn't want to tell you," he interjected, mindful of his volume. "I didn't want you to charge off into the fray trying to save my bacon."
She gave him a mild glare. "Like it doesn't need saving from time to time."
He blushed, and this time it wasn't from her closeness. "Alright, you've got me there. You just shouldn't take unnecessary risks for my sake--"
"And you haven't for me?"
"You're making this very hard, Ran..."
"Why, because I'm right?"
"No...yes--no!" Shinichi sighed, scratching his head. "I understand what you're saying, and those are very good reasons. But I don't want you to get hurt. And that's what'll happen if you start trying to take on the Black Organization. I know I need help...but I'm not going to risk your life just for a cure."
"'Just for a cure?'" Ran's eyes widened. "Shinichi, I'm talking about getting your life back! You told me--"
"I know what I said." Blue eyes pinned her with a gaze far too steely for a little boy. "But I won't trade you for a cure. If it came down to choosing between your life and the antidote to APTX 4869, I'd spend the rest of my life like this."
She couldn't help the gasp that escaped her, seeing the depth of his determination in that unwavering stare. "But...I want you to be happy..."
His gaze, which had been almost frightening in its intensity, softened as he smiled faintly. "I'm happy when you're safe," he said. "Please, don't do more than what you've already been doing--you've been a big help just being a Neechan and looking out for me."
"I don't want to be your Neechan, I want to be--" It slipped out before she caught herself, an almost petulant phrase. She blushed, looking down.
Surprisingly, he seemed to understand, blushing a little as he glanced away. "I know. And I'd rather not be a little kid. Can't do much about that problem when I'm like this..."
"I don't care what size you are!" she blurted. "You're still Shinichi--you said so yourself. I don't care what age you are, because I know you're still you."
"Ran...you have to know there might not even be a permanent cure. This might be me forever--Conan Edogawa. Always ten years behind you. I can't ask you to wait that long for me--"
"Who says it has to be ten years?"
"Even eight? At the very least six? You'd be twenty-three, twenty-five, off to college and starting a career of your own...and I'd still be in junior high, not even able to get a summer job yet..."
"That's just a worst-case scenario!" she protested. "You're such a pessimist! Of course you'll find a cure--why wouldn't you? You can find anything--you're the Great Detective Shinichi Kudo! You've never lost before--you've always caught the culprit!"
Such faith in me... "But what if I don't? Ran, I might never be cured. There's the possibility that..." His voice choked--it was a prospect he didn't like thinking about himself. "...that I might always be..."
"I don't care!" Ran's sudden hiss startled him into silence. She was close to him once more, something desperate in her eyes, both hands reaching for him this time. One caught his shoulder again, the other his cheek, turning his face up to hers. He could taste her breath again as she leaned near, so warm and sweet and full of Ran...
In a single jolting instant he realized what she intended to do--and violently rebelled.
Amidst his grunt and her sharp cry, he heaved backward, exerting all his strength to pull free of her grip. He ended up crouched on his knees just out of her arms' reach, staring wildly at her--and feeling his heart clench at the sudden raw pain in her eyes.
"No...I'm sorry--Ran, please..." he panted. "Please...not like this--not Conan...I'm so sorry...please--let me be me..."
His rejection hurt her badly. Shocked and rebuffed, tears were already rolling down her cheeks. Her voice was faint, tremulous, like a punished child's. "But..."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...!" he repeated desperately, reaching out to her now. "I'm sorry, Ran--I didn't mean--I just--!"
She seemed to withdraw, arms wrapped around herself. "But...you are you," she whispered through her tears.
"Please...Ran...I'm sorry..." Desperate to stop her pain, he drew closer, on his knees, gripping her shoulder with one small hand. "Please--Saturday, I will--I promise...please..."
She just sat there quietly for a long time, her face hidden behind her hair, her shoulders shaking slightly. When she finally glanced up, the look in her eyes made him wince.
"Can't you understand how I feel?" she asked again, for the second time that night. She still cried, but she didn't lose her words to sobs. "If it were me...if I were like you and you were still the way you were before...wouldn't you understand?"
If she were... He swallowed hard, cringing from her painful gaze. If he were still seventeen, and Ran had suddenly been turned into the little girl from his memories and their parents' photographs...
He would be shocked, terrified, dismayed. He would want to protect her from every danger, any threat. He would want to show her how much she still meant to him, no matter what size or shape. He would want to tell her that ten years didn't matter, not with how much he...
"God, sometimes I can't believe you even put up with me," he mumbled, hardly able to find the right words. "Why? I'm such an idiot--a selfish, stupid idiot. I keep hurting you, but you keep caring. You just keep being there for me, no matter what--and I don't deserve any of it...but that's why I love you so much..."
She gasped at about the same moment he realized precisely what he'd just said--his breath caught and he stiffened, face going red as he suddenly looked a little bit crazed. "Oh God, I just--I really said it, didn't I? I finally really said it..." he croaked with a short, self-conscious laugh. "For the longest time I've wanted to," he rambled in strange nervous relief, "but I'm such a goddamn perfectionist I always wanted it to be done just right, in a romantic setting with candlelight, at just the right moment--I wanted to tell you with my real voice, and I just blurted it out while I'm like this--"
With a wordless little cry, she threw her arms around him, startling him as she pulled him close. Her shoulders shook as if with silent sobs; he held very still, half on instinct and half out of alarm, eyes wide in near-panicked concern. "Ran, I'm sorry--dammit, I screwed it up! I wanted to do it right--I never make you happy, all I do is make you cry--"
"Shinichi, you stupid..." Her voice was strange--almost light, though trembling. "You silly...!"
She pulled back to meet his eyes, almost cradling him--he'd been pulled half into her lap, and now looked up at her with wide, startled eyes. He suddenly realized she was almost laughing, even though there were tears running down her cheeks. "Ran...?"
"You think...I'd be upset if it wasn't done right?" she all but demanded, fixing him with her tearful, happy glare. "I'm just glad I heard those words...no matter how you said them. As long as it's the truth..."
He was red as a tomato but nodded vigorously, gulping.
She sniffled, pulling him close again--and this time, his small arms wrapped warmly around her neck, the very best hug he could give her at this point. He wished it were his arms encircling her so completely, but...blushing, he held on tight.
Spoken close to his ear with soft warm breath, her whisper made him blush even more--and made his heart spin with wild joy as her short, near-silent reply told him she felt the same.
He knew she did; he'd known since the beginning, ever since the night Conan was "born"...but she was right--somehow, hearing it truly said made all the difference. Her voice, her eyes, her touch made it real. He just held on to her, overwhelmed by emotion that choked off his voice--not that he had anything adequate to say anyway--and made his heart beat fast with fierce rapture.
He'd thought this moment was imperfect, insufficient--she deserved so much better than this. There were no candles, no romance, no happy smiles and mellow voices, no Shinichi at his proper size--just a bedside lamp, hurt feelings and forgiveness, tears of mixed sorrow and gladness, a little boy with trembling hands and a young man's heart. In the dimness of her bedroom, dressed only in their pajamas and with voices hushed to avoid discovery--it was far from his dream of the perfect setting in which to reveal his true feelings. Not on such a turbulent day as this, in an utterly imperfect moment--unexpected, unplanned.
But the imperfect moment was made perfect by her love.
"You don't have to torture yourself so much," Ran said softly into the silence, sniffling. "You don't always have to be cool and smart and wonderful. You're still my Shinichi even when you're at your worst...even if you mess up--isn't today a good enough example? I'll always forgive you...oh...Shinichi, you're shaking so hard--what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said, choked by the lump in his throat. "Nothing's wrong...I'm just glad..."
A gentle tug on her part was all it took to make him release his hold on her. She pulled back to look into his face, supporting him in a gentle grip. He was still trembling with emotion, cheeks flushed, small hands clutching her forearms with surprising strength. His blue eyes were bright and round, glimmering with a noticeable hint of unshed tears, shining with unquestionable gladness.
She saw Shinichi in those eyes--raw and unmasked, deep and complex, neither innocent child nor confident detective. She saw, through the distress and fear and joy and affection, the young man she knew and loved, every facet of him; talented, friendly, brilliant, kind, occasionally dense but usually perceptive, cynical, uncertain, outgoing, gifted with keen observation and near-perfect recall, self-assured and self-doubting, selfish and selfless, brusque, meticulous, posessed of vast eclectic knowledge, sometimes arrogant or moody, always willing to help those in need, ready to sacrifice so much for those he loved...but so unsure of himself...
"Don't give up," she whispered, her slight smile lit by soft light from the lamp. "I know you won't lose to those Black guys...I won't give up on you--so don't you dare give up on yourself. You'll get through this, even if it takes years--but it won't, because I know you can do anything when you really try..."
Shinichi gazed up into her eyes, amazed. Her face was still marked by tears but there was undeniable happiness written all over her. Despite all that he'd done, all his lies and deceptions and everything he'd put her through, she still cared. Ran seemed so strong, as if she were the one protecting him; perhaps she was, warding off the guilt and self-reproach she knew he often inflicted on himself--sometimes for very little reason, sometimes for the wrong reason. He swallowed hard, trying to clear that lump, but it just wouldn't go away; her loving trust kept it locked there in his throat, because her words meant so much...
She has so much faith...so much love...she believes in me, even when I can't believe in myself... How can I let her down? I have to find the cure...I have to beat the Black Organization...if I don't, I'll never be worthy of her devotion. Shouldn't I have at least as much faith as her...? Even though her faith is so much stronger than mine...
Something in his expression must have changed; she seemed suddenly happier, relieved, as she spoke to him. "There's that smile...I knew you were okay. Don't you feel better now?"
"Um...yeah..." he croaked, blinking. Jeeze...I come in to check on her and she ends up the one cheering me up...
"That's the way," she said, with one last sniffle and brightening eyes. "The Shinichi I know would never leave a case half-finished, especially one as important as this. If you give up on yourself--and on us, then I really will hit you."
Shinichi couldn't help but laugh, a soft quick snort. "You always did know when to beat some sense into me."
"I can tell exactly when you need it," she replied lightly.
His expression softened. "Thanks, Ran. I came here to see you and help you feel better, but you're the one who's saving me, as usual."
"Well, if you didn't keep getting yourself into these predicaments..." she joked, giggling softly--and they both broke out into quiet chuckles, muffled to try and keep from waking Kogoro or any of the neighbors.
The tension eased amidst their laughter; the last vestiges of the reserve that had hovered between them melted away. The truth was out now, all of it, from Conan's identity to their long-hidden feelings. There were no more secrets between them--none save one, and that one was less a secret and more just a subject Shinichi hadn't wanted to bring up yet.
As the soft chuckles died away, normalcy began to take hold again and their surroundings became a part of their world once more. Time seemed to start again; they began to become aware of the dimness of Ran's bedroom, the clock and the lateness of the hour, the closeness of their near-embrace. At about the same moment, they both realized their relative positions and blushed, giving each other embarassed glances that only increased the giggles a bit. Without thinking, Ran had gathered Shinichi into her lap during their embrace, and over the course of their intimate conversation he had not noticed or resisted the comfortable cuddle.
It was somewhat awkward for Ran, even if holding "Conan" was perfectly safe and familiar. But her perception had changed--she knew it was Shinichi who inhabited the small body in her arms. She was holding him so close--they'd never been so near when he was in his true shape. And she couldn't very well yell at him for touching her--after all, she'd been the one who grabbed him, really...
They were both blushing as Ran carefully lifted Shinichi from her lap, setting him gently back on the bed. Suddenly self-conscious, he smiled uneasily and scratched his head. "Uh, thanks," he said honestly, grateful she'd spared him the major indignity of clambering out of her lap, trading it for the minor indignity of being lifted. "Um...Ran...I..."
"I meant what I said, Shinichi Kudo," she said, looking into his eyes--only his eyes, not choosing to look at the form he wore. "All of it. Every word."
He gulped. "M-me too," he assured her. "Even if I don't act like it sometimes...but you know I'm an idiot..."
"But I forgive you," she whispered, with a growing smile. "Even if I get angry."
"Ran..."
"It's getting too late to talk about these things. Let's sleep on it, shall we?" Her eyes were brilliant now, free of tears or sadness. He was so captivated by them he barely moved when her gentle hands captured his face, holding him still--or when she leaned close again, her gaze full of secret mystery. He was so startled, once he finally realized, that he didn't even have time to think of resisting before she placed a soft, fleeting kiss on his forehead, her lips barely brushing him.
Wide-eyed and flushing, he gaped at her as she released him. She giggled at his gawk, reaching out to ruffle his hair and wake him from his petrified stare. He jerked at her touch, discomfited, but only looked down, cheeks crimson.
"There," she said firmly. "Ran-neechan's compensation for the down payment Conan-kun gave her--that night we made our promise."
"Ran--"
"Shhh. If it has to do with that, tell me on Saturday." She yawned suddenly, almost surprising herself. After all the stress they'd been through that day, a good night's sleep was the wisest choice at this point. "Shinichi...we've got another beautiful day ahead of us--Sunday, a perfect day for a new start, don't you think?"
With a deep breath, he finally seemed to relax a bit. "Yeah, you're right. Let's start again tomorrow." And see how we'll survive the rest of my life as Conan...but as long as we're together, I can make the best of it... With a scoot, he dropped lightly to the floor, pausing to slip on his scuffs. When he turned back to her, she was holding out his neatly-folded glasses with a gentle smile.
He put them on, and once again Shinichi slid behind the mask of Conan--but a mask that certain special people saw through. "Thanks. Good night, Ran. Sleep well. I...I love you..." His last words were whispered and stuttering, but heartfelt.
Ran's eyes lit beautifully. "I love you too, Shinichi...good night."
Shinichi swallowed, finding it suddenly hard to look away--to turn around and leave. When she'd heard him speak, and when she gazed at him that way and told him...
Shaking himself, he turned away, almost hurrying out the door and closing it quietly behind him.
When he was gone, Ran got up and pulled back her covers, sliding into bed. Her eyes were filled with tears again, but this time they were a much happier variety--and didn't last nearly as long before she slipped gently into sweet dreams of Shinichi and the hope of next Saturday's promised fulfillment.
The phone was ringing.
That in itself was not odd, but the fact that it was ringing at seven AM on a Sunday morning was. Even Conan, the early riser of the Mouri Detective Agency, was not usually up at that hour on a weekend.
Usually, of course. This Sunday was something of an exception; given the emotional events of the previous day and the anticipation of new and unpredictable prospects for today, he was already somewhat awake by the time the telephone started ringing.
However, that's not to say he was pleased about having to answer the phone at this hour. He hadn't even had any toast yet.
Yawning and stumbling and shoving his glasses onto his face, Conan shuffled rapidly to the phone, rather annoyed with the caller. Jeeze, who could it be at this hour? If it's not me, I can't imagine who would call at a time like this...
He picked up the receiver, scratching at his head and slipping into a sleepy version of his Conan-voice. "Mouri Detective Agency," he yawned.
"Shinichi. Listen up, this is important."
In a blink, sleepy Conan was gone--replaced by a shocked and very awake Shinichi. "Dad?"
"Yes, it's me--"
"Where the hell have you been?" Shinichi almost shrieked, wanting to yell but for one angry, bewildered instant completely forgetting that he spoke with a little boy's voice--which was prone to go soprano under stress. "I called and no one answered! Where are you, and is Mom with you--?"
"Yes, and we're here in Japan--"
For the moment, Shinichi seemed to have forgotten where he was--and who he was. "You mean you're home? When did you get in? Why didn't you tell me you were coming? Dammit, Dad, I tried and tried to contact you--!"
"Be quiet and listen." Yuusaku cut him off with startlingly severe tones.
Shinichi went silent with a short gasp; he'd known his father to be short at times, but never had he been spoken to in such a sharp, perfunctory manner.
"Your mother and I are here at the house," Yuusaku went on, his words unwavering. "I want you here by eight--make whatever excuses you need to."
"What--?"
"No questions--do as I say. Make sure you're here by eight AM. Alone. And don't be late--we have things to discuss."
"Dad, what are you--?"
"Eight o'clock, Shinichi." With that, his father hung up the phone, leaving Shinichi with a dead line and no answers--again.
"Dammit..." Shinichi all but slammed the phone back into the cradle, teeth gritted angrily. A noise behind him startled him, and he jumped around like a guilty thief.
Ran was standing there in her pajamas, recently-awakened but alert, her eyes full of worry. "Shinichi...that was...your father? What is he...?"
Shinichi gulped; the sight of her drowned his current aggravation with memories of the night before, faintly heating his face. "Yeah," he admitted, getting a handle on his emotions with an effort; what a double whammy right after getting up--his dad's phone call, and the memory of Ran... "He wants to see me. Very soon." He glanced at the clock. "At eight."
"You sound upset," she observed softly, brows pinched with concern. "What is it?"
"Um...it's some family stuff," he told her hesitantly. "It has to do with Kaito and me..."
"Your cousin...?" She cut off with a gasp. "Kuroba-kun knows, doesn't he?"
"He does. He knows all about Conan, and that's part of it, but..."
"But?"
"I need to go get dressed..." Shinichi hunched his shoulders and headed for the door. "I've got to be there soon, and I want to grab some breakfast first."
"Shinichi...you told me there would be no more lies."
He winced, pausing. "I know. And there won't be. I'm sorry...but I really need to talk to my parents first. This is something...a lot more personal. It doesn't have much to do with Conan, so...it's not something I'm hiding from you. Okay?"
Ran regarded him for several moments, considering...then softened, relenting--no doubt recalling her own memories of the previous night. "Okay. I'll even whip you up something warm to eat before you go--I'd hate for you to have to face your folks on an empty stomach."
"Thanks, Ran." He smiled gratefully as he headed out, going straight to his room to prepare. Sunday, a new day...so much for starting again... Dammit, Dad, do you always have to do this to me?
He was not looking forward to confronting the man behind the sharp voice on the telephone. But if it meant he could get some answers at last, then face his father he would.
Kaito yawned and tugged at his collar, none too pleased about being stuck on a public bus with his mother this early on Sunday morning. And dressed like this, no less; his very best clothes, a shirt and tie with a woolen vest and ironed slacks--things he only wore for the most special of occasions, if ever. Normally he saw no need for such decorum on a weekend, but his mother had insisted--at about the same time she was rolling him out of bed and fixing him breakfast. Kaito, moving but not quite awake, hadn't been conscious enough to protest his attire at the time.
But now he was awake and unable to protest, seated beside his mother--who was also dressed in her best--on a rather empty bus rolling through Tokyo to somewhere he hadn't been quite alert enough to process when they boarded. Yawning cavernously now and again, he picked uncomfortably at his sweater vest and fidgeted. He hated dressing up like this; formal clothes made him feel awkward and out of place.
"Sit still, you're going to mess up your hair," his mother admonished softly, nudging him.
"Yes, Mom..." he sighed, pouting stubbornly. Like it made much difference anyway--his mother had cornered him after breakfast and firmly combed his mane down, but it was already working itself back into its usual shaggy mess. Before his unruly locks fought their way loose from the stern brushing, he had looked eerily like Shinichi in the bathroom mirror...but then again, he mused, Shinichi would probably look like him if his hair were messed up.
"Mom, if you had to go to a meeting or something, couldn't I just stay home and sleep?" he complained once again, yawning. "It's Sunday, for pete's sake..."
"Hush," Fumiyo scolded. "This is very important. I want you on your best behavior, too--none of your tricks and gags, understand?"
Noting her seriousness, he nodded smartly; his mother was one of the few people who held his utmost respect--when she spoke, he obeyed.
"Ah, we're almost there," Fumiyo announced softly, as the bus began to slow down. When it stopped, she rose and headed to the front, followed by her yawning son. Kaito politely helped her step down, then blinked around at the bus stop as the vehicle pulled away.
"Hey, I think I've been here before..." he muttered. "Mom, isn't this Beika?"
"Alright, the walk isn't too far," his mother told him, checking her watch as they began to stroll down the sidewalk. "But we are a little early--we're supposed to be there at nine, so we might stop and get a coffee to pass the time."
Kaito began to recognize his surroundings, frowning slightly. "What are we doing in Beika, anyway?" A frightening suspicion began to grow in his mind.
"It's a very important meeting," Fumiyo said, looking down. "We can't be late, but we also musn't be too early."
"But...what's in Beika that you--?" Something clicked, and Kaito's suspicion became a full-blown suggestion. "Mom--it's Ojisan, isn't it? He's here?"
Fumiyo didn't answer.
"Ojisan made this 'appointment?'" Kaito demanded. "For what? To ream me out for taking up Dad's torch? To yell at you for letting me? To--" His eyes widened. "Wait, why can't we be too early? Nine o'clock...?"
His mother still didn't answer him, but the look on her face was painful enough.
Kaito stopped dead on the sidewalk when realization struck. "It's not nine yet--he probably got Shinichi there before us, so he can--" His teeth gritted, his hands fisting angrily. "He's got Shinichi cornered alone for this, and he'll--dammit, no!"
Fumiyo gasped in protesting surprise when Kaito suddenly bolted. Not waiting to explain or stopping to obey her calls for him to stop, he sprinted off down the sidewalk, face set and determined. Closing his ears to his mother's worried shouts, he silently apologized to her for his insolence and kept running, heading for the Kudo house. It would only take him a few minutes to get there at this pace, and he would be very early.
He only hoped it would be early enough to help. He wouldn't let Shinichi face this alone, not when they had agreed to work together. After all, they were family--and more than that, they were friends.
To be continued...
AN: Wow, this one's one of the hardest chapters I've had to write. Sorry for the delay! @_@ I'm nervous about this one... Hope it reads well! File 13's coming as quick as I can write it--more intense stuff ahead (and more Kaito, for everyone who asked!). Seeya then!