Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey, Miyano! It’s me. Are you still up?”

“No.”

“ OI — wait, don’t hang up on me! MIYA— “

“Would you kindly stop screaming at me, Kudo? I can hear you perfectly clear.”

“Oh, you’re still there. I thought you’d hang up again. Aheh .”

“ Honestly .” An exasperated pause, “What do you want?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault!” Shinichi protests, and Shiho rolls her eyes as she pictures the man-child’s pout he must be wearing on his face, “You’re always hanging up me. It’s rude , you know?

“Did you seriously call me at this hour just to lecture me about communication etiquette?”

“Of course not!” He says defensively, “I was just wondering if you were still up…”

“Well, I am now.”

“So,”

“ So…? ”

“I— um, can you come over?”

Silence.

“ Kudo-kun, ”

“...Yes?”

“It’s a quarter past twelve.”

“I know.”

“You better not tell me —”

“I’m hungry.”

She sighs.

.

.

.

“Jeez, Kudo.You look like crap.”

The detective pokes his head from behind a messy stack of documents. He snorts humorlessly and, throwing her a playful glare, rubs his hands to comb back some tousled strands of hair that fall over his face. “Thanks, Miyano. You look dashing too, as always .”

Stuffing the spare key back into her purse, the girl makes her way into his living room after kicking off her shoes and slipping her feet into a pair of white and blue striped slippers. A few folders lay open on the coffee table, missing files are scattered carelessly around the floor. In front of her, an exhausted mess of disheveled clothed and dark circles under dark blue eyes.

“No thanks to you.” Shiho deadpans. With a smirk, Shinichi pushes away a small pile of documents to clear a little corner on the table, where the scientist places a bag with take out food. “You have to stop calling me at this hour. I don’t want us to end up with matching eye bags.”

“ Hai, hai .” Shinichi says dismissively as he struggles to undo a knot on the plastic bag. “You truly are a lifesaver, though . What would I do without you?”

“Die, obviously.” She says matter-of-factly.

His face falls into a grimace, and he stops wrestling with his late dinner package to look at her in a half-apologetic, half-accusing expression, “Oi— I can't be that bad!”

“Your self-care skills are as good as the next kindergartener, and you’re dependent to a ridiculous extent.” She asserts irritated.

Abruptly, he turns his head to face her, cheeks puffed with a half-chewed chicken leg he just stuffed into his mouth.

“Egh!?” The starving detective utters with a puzzled expression, “I’m not!”

“Then how did you even manage to run out of food for the third time again this week? I just stocked your fridge two days ago . And don’t lie to me, Kudo: have you even been to the kitchen?”

He looks away, visibly flustered as he mumbles something within the lines of “busy” and “work”.

Shiho throws him a very meaningful look.

“You can’t just constantly overwork yourself to the point of near-death and expect me to be here to pick up your pieces, Kudo-kun— You’ve got to start taking proper care of yourself! I’m neither your nutritionist nor your caretaker, and I’m most certainly not going to keep playing the role of your mother .”

“Eh—“ Shinichi grimaces, “I don’t need another mother.”

“What you need is a wife.”

“See, now you do sound like my mom.”

“Seriously, it’s a miracle you’ve managed to survive all these years on your own. And it’s only gotten worse since Mouri-San left.”

He shoots her a warning stare, which she holds defiantly. After a brief pause, he sighs in resignation. “Can we please not discuss this again? She went on with her life. End of story.”

“I do have a life too, you know?”

“ Do you —?” He asks with puzzled innocence before realizing his mistake. She’s livid, eyes gleaming with a murderous glint. He chokes, “I mean, of course you do!”

“Honestly, Kudo! I’m not going to be your ass AM delivery girl forever.”

He chuckles apologetically, which only serves to aggravate her further.

“Eh, but it’s not as if you’re seeing someone, right?”

“That’s neither here nor there.” She mumbles grumpily, irritated that he would assume with such confidence that her life revolves about him exclusively— which is partially truth, but he doesn’t need to know that! “The point is that you’re placing your trust where you shouldn’t, and that blind certainty that I’ll always be there to patch you up when you tear yourself apart it’s frankly unfounded, and foolish to a fault!”

He pauses for a couple of seconds to stare at her, “Wow. You’re being serious.”

“I don’t like being taken for granted, Kudo.”

He scoffs.

“Well, then. If it eases your mind, I don’t, in any way. You’re the last person I’d expect to have waiting unwavering on anything, let alone on me. And it’s not because I don’t trust you —which I do, it’s true, maybe to an absurd degree as you put it— but because of your infuriating tendency to run away. And it’s not fair, Miyano! You’re the one who’s made me paranoid about you disappearing any day without a trace, so don’t you come complaining that I like to keep in touch.”

She blinks back at him incredulously.

“So that’s it? You’ve been doing it to keep track on me?” She huffs with disbelief, trying to ignore the fuzzy feeling growing on her chest, “Can’t you just text like normal people do? Gee, Kudo. You don’t need to subject yourself to chronic famine in order to keep my friendship. I’m also free on weekends, you know?”

“You never pick up the phone unless it’s ridiculously late, don’t give me that!”

“Indeed, because that’s what late night calls are reserved for— emergencies. You’re just a lazy opportunist, admit it!”

“This is an emergency. You wouldn’t be here if you thought otherwise, would you?

He has the audacity to be cheeky, smiles and all.

She fumes. Smug little bastard, playing on her weakness. It’s embarrassing to recognize that they both know her weakness is him .

“My beauty sleep is the current emergency.” She declares, getting on her feet and announcing, “I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight.”

“Wait—“

“Enjoy the couch, Kudo—“ She glances at the stack of files dangerously overflowing his sofa, and her lips curl into a mischievous smile, “Well, what’s left of it.”

“Eh!?”

But she’s already reached the end of the short corridor, and she stands on the mahogany doorway.

“Oi, that’s my room! MIYA—“

Shiho peers though the closing gap of his bedroom door and, with a last smirk, shuts it close before catching a last glimpse of his frustrated pout.

Chapter Text

She finds him waiting by the school’s gates, eyes shut close as he leans against a wall with his hands hidden deep inside the pockets of his navy blue uniform.

The strawberry blonde stops to look at the boy with curiosity. Tilting her head to the side, she lets one corner of her lips curl up with unconcealed amusement when she notices the small puffs of breath coming out of his lips as his chest heaves softly.

“ Kudo ,”

Her voice breaks through the placid quietness of the empty street. A bit startled, the young detective’s eyes flutter open as they find focus in the girl before him .

“Ah— Haibara,” He greets with a rather raspy voice.

“What are you doing, sleeping here? You’re going to catch a cold.”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” Shinichi protests, his face turning crimson. He steps away from the wall he’d been leaning on and pretends to smooth some imaginary creases on his blazer, “I was just resting my eyes.”

She raises one quizzical brow.

“Here, in the middle of the street?”

“I’m on the pavement!”

“Which totally doesn’t make you look like a hobo.” She deadpans.

He glares.

“Why were you not-sleeping out here in the cold anyway?”

He seems hesitant. Absentmindedly, his fingers fidget around the metal hook attached to the strap of his schoolbag, as if considering what to say. When he shifts his gaze to look at her, his eyes are charged with a kind determination that feels almost accusatory in a strange way.

“I was waiting for you!”

“For me?” Her brows furrow as she stares back with concern, and realization dawns upon her like a ton of bricks falling in her chest, “Why, is Hakase okay?”

“What? No! ” Shinichi winces, waving his hands frantically in a denying gesture,“I mean— yes , he’s okay, but that’s not why I— Argh! This wasn’t supposed to go like this...”

Shiho lets out a relieved sigh. Shinichi ruffles his own hair in frustration.

“Then what do you want from me?”

He seems taken aback by her bluntness—  hurt , even. It makes her wonder.

“Honestly, “ Shinichi huffs, and an endearing pout follows. He shifts his weight, cobalt blue eyes looking at anywhere but her face, “I just wanted to walk with you home.”

Staring at the the boy with disbelief, the scientist narrows her eyes suspiciously as if waiting for him to come clean from the lie, which causes him to roll his eyes. He doesn’t bother explaining. Instead, he rolls one shoulder and nods his head towards the other side of the street.

“Come on, I’ll lead the way.”

Shiho scoffs, “Ah, excuse me. I think I know the way back to my own house.”

“Yes, yes.” Shinichi concedes, and prompts her to follow, “Now, don’t be difficult. We live next door now, so what’s the problem? Hurry up, slowpoke.”

She tilts her head back a little, eyes rolling with exasperation, and grudgingly follows behind him,  “You don’t have to just because we live next door, Kudo.”’

“Well, I want to.” He shrugs, eyes fixing on her as they walk though the quiet little streets, “I never see you anymore, Haibara. We haven’t really talked since the beginning of the school year.”

“You come to our class every single break.” She retorts, shooting him a meaningful look, “And you bring your flock of fans with you, too. It’s annoying, you know? All they do is scream as if you were miles away.”

His brows furrow, yet his lips curl into a knowing smirk.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me all the time?”

She doesn’t answer the question.

“And also during lunchtime! Enjoying a peaceful meal without a hoard of screaming girls surrounding our table seems like a luxury nowadays.”

“Don’t exaggerate! It’s normal for a girl or two to come say hi. And it’s not as if you don’t get cornered by random guys after class too!

“Oh?” She feigns innocence, “Was that before of after you told all of them that I’m terrifying ?”

Embarrassment crawls up his face. He looks away, mortified.

“They were getting out of line, following you everywhere!”

“Ah, and thus came the white knight to the damsel’s rescue? Seriously Kudo, I can take care of myself.”

“Of course I know you can take care of yourself, I just don’t like that you think you have to all the time.”

She snorts humorlessly, “Then what do you suggest Kudo, relying on you?”

“Well, for a change, yeah! You could do that.” He retorts with an offended pout.

They exchange a puzzled look that  seems to last forever, and an awkward silence follows after that. They walk a couple of blocks that strained atmosphere.

“You look cold.” He finally says after an excruciating ten minutes of silently throwing furtive looks at each other and pretending not to notice.

“I am cold, thank you very much for asking. I don’t suppose you have a spare coat stuffed in your back pocket that you can lend me?”

Shinichi makes a gesture to take off his jacket, but she declines. It makes the boy huff with indignation. But before she can even utter a protest, his fingers circle around her left hand and clutches it tight against his palm. He stuffs their intertwined hands inside his blazer’s pocket to protect it from the chilly wind.

Shiho blinks at the sudden gesture, too surprised to react. His hand is warm against her shivering skin, his grip firm but gentle, filling her heart with  warmth and softness. It draws her mind blank, and she can’t think of one single good reason to ask him to let go.

“Um— why are we holding hands?” She asks half-mockingly, half-tentatively.

“Because you said you were cold.” He says curtly, staring straight ahead, “Now shut up and walk.”

“Jeez. What kind of attitude is that?”

“Sorry.”

He sounds genuine — soft , even. And the swift change of attitude takes her by surprise. Shinichi peers at her from the corner of his eyes and, for no apparent reason, blushes a deep shade of pink. At the sight of him, she blushes too. It’s absolutely ridiculous .

She doesn’t know how much time passes or how many corners they turned with her hand tightly tucked inside the warmth of his pocket, but— ah, it does feel nice. And with his fingers tenderly brushing over hers and raising her heart palpitations, she suddenly feels safe, she feels like—

“ —home .”

“Huh?”

“We’re home.”

“Ah. Thanks for the escort.”

Awkwardly, she retrieves her hand back from his grip, but his warmth lingers in her skin, her chest.

“Oh, I almost forgot…” Shinichi say, rummaging through the contents of his schoolbag until he finds what he’s looking for. A small heart-shaped box that’s unmistakably—

“So, this— for you.”

She seems appalled at the offering. All sense of fuzziness gone, she winces, “I don’t want your leftovers, Kudo.”

“They aren’t leftovers!” He almost shouts, face flustered red, “It’s a full box.”

“That’s even worse. Imagine what the poor girl who gave you these would feel like if she knew you didn’t even try—“

“I made them.” He clarifies, his face so red he puts the setting sun to shame.

Heh?

Her eyes flicker back and forth from his face to the pink heart-shaped box still on his hand.

“ You made these? By yourself?” She asks incredulously.

“Yes, woman. I made these. By myself . With my own two hands. Now will you accept the stupid chocolates or should I just throw—“

“Thank you.” She snatches the box from his hands a little to fast, and they both blush profusely.

“Y-Your welcome.”

When their eyes meet, they’re fast to avert their gaze. What feels like an eternity passes by before either of them knows what to say next.

“Why, though?” Her fingers toy with the pink ribbon wrapped around the box, “Why the sudden—“

“It’s White Day.”

“I’ve known you for nine years. And never you’ve never—” She asserts, “Why now?”

“Does it matter?” He tries, unsuccessfully, to laugh it off, “I just felt like it, am I not allowed?”

“No, you’re not.” She declares, and all color drains from his face. Her eyebrows knit together into a frown, yet the smile on her lips doesn’t fade away,  “It’s not appropriate, since I didn’t gift you any this year. But since it’s your first time, I’ll let it slide.”

Shinichi lets out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Hey, Haibara.” He hesitates. Eyes shifting to the side, he clears his throat and ventures, “Is it okay if I walk you home from now on?”

“Again, we live next door.”

“I am aware of that, yes.” He deadpans, “Still, I’d like to walk you to school in the mornings and talk to you more during breaks. I’ll always save a place for you at lunch, too, and wait for you when you come out late from club meetings. And then, we can walk home, if you want.”

Shiho presses a curled finger against her lips to keep them for either huffing or smiling.

“Are you asking to be my bodyguard or my boyfriend, Kudo?”

She kind of expects him to snap, but instead he blushes several shades darker.

“What if I’m asking both, would the answer be any different?”

Oh.

She feigns considering the question.

“Actually, no.”

“No?”

“Then, yes.”

“Wait, what?

“You may.”

Chapter Text

They stumble on fallen keys and trip over lampstands in the darkness of the room, their hands searching for a piece of each other to hold on to in their stormy sea of wanton.

—And like shipwrecks, they drown.

.

“ Kudo-kun—” His lips find purchase in the crock of her neck, pressing lightly as they place a line of hot, smothering kisses along her throat. Startled, Shiho chokes back a cry. And it’s awfully distracting, but she can’t afford to succumb into the sweet diversion of his intoxicating kisses. She has to make sure this is not just the effect of alcohol messing with his mind. A bit breathless, she manages to whisper into his ear, “Will you regret this?”

He pulls out to look at her, brows knitted together in concern. He will . She knows he will. And because of that, she’ll regret it too.

“What— why would  I?”

Because I’m not her , she wants to say. Because you don’t love me .

“You’re drunk.” She says instead.

He doesn’t hesitate or back off in shame and remorse as she would expect him to. He doesn’t even argue back. Instead, he brushes a lock of strawberry blonde hair falling from her face, his fingers softly grazing over her temple. His hand cups her cheek and she lets herself indulge in his warmth as she tells herself it’s just for a second — just one more second.

And it’ll be over. And she’ll let him go.

Shinichi’s thumb brush tenderly on her flushed skin and, adoring eyes taking in her every feature, lets the smallest chuckle out of his lips.

“I’m drunk on you.” He breathes, inching his face so close that their lips almost meet. His forehead touches against hers, gaze low and fingers caressing the back of her nape. And she holds to the back of his shoulders for dear life, because she honestly doesn’t know how long her treacherous knees will keep her standing. With his breath raising goosebumps on her skin and the sweet, gentle grazing of his lips against hers in that barely-kiss, she suspects it won’t be long until she falls apart. But the hand on the small of her back is firm and refuses to let her go, and she’s soon running out of reasons to. “Would you regret me?”

How could she?

Her lips part and, closing the distance between them, she launches herself into his arms, his lips, his heart. She buries her inhibitions with every kiss, and lets him strip her of her fears with every touch of his fingers. One by one, he sheds her hesitation away.

—Until they find love stark naked.

Chapter Text

.

.

Only fools

(do what I do)

.

.

She doesn’t know how they end up like this — awkwardly crammed together inside of Ayumi’s too small princess castle tent, playing mom and dad while drinking jasmine tea from a Barbie tea set.

But it doesn’t really matter right now, as more pressing issues are on the top of her head. For instance: Shinichi’s lips roughly pressing against her own and the scorching-hot touch of his hands branding her skin as his belonging. The heat of his demanding kisses engulfs her in the sweetest stupor, taking her breath away and making her anew. Her heart is no longer trapped on her ribcage — he holds it tightly between his fingers, playing its strings at the rhythm of his own heartbeat.

And she lets him.

—Because that’s what fools do—

.

”Shin-nii, Shiho-nee! We’re out of green tea mochis!” The door bursts open, and Ayumi hurries inside the room, “Would you like to have black sesame flavor inst— eh!?” A loud gasp comes out of the little girl’s lips, distressed at the sight of them, “Were you two fighting again!?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

The detective and the strawberry blonde scientist speak in unison, then proceed to glare at each other. Ayumi frowns, hands on her hips.

“Don’t lie to me! Your faces are sooo red! “  She stomps her little foot in a tantrum, her cheeks puffing into a pout. The expression on her face seems way too serious for her young age, “You two need to learn how to get along! We’re all friends, remember? You promised!“

“ Yes, Ayumi-chan .”

“ Sorry, Ayumi-chan .”

“Honestly!” Ayumi sighs, but soon her expression softens, “I’m going to bring the mochis, and Mitsuhiko-kun and Genta-kun are arriving soon too, so please behave for ten more minutes!”

“ Hai, hai .”

With a resigned smile, the child turns on her heels and skips her way out of the room, closing the door behind her.

As soon a she’s out of sight, Shiho elbows Shinichi in the ribs, “What the hell was that?”

“ Ack ,” He winces at the stabbing pain on his left side, “I panicked, okay!?”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t do that kind of stuff again! In a child’s room, at that!”

“Listen, I’m sorry that I got way too into playing house and accidentally kissed you passionately.”

She takes a deep breath before shooting him a pointed look.

“‘ Passionately ?’” Shiho snorts, eyebrow raising, “Was it now ? Gee. I couldn’t tell.”

Shinichi’s eyes narrow, his face adorned with the most devious lopsided smile.

“ Hmm... Is that a challenge?”

She rolls her eyes, yet can’t help her lips from curling into an treacherous smile, “You’re pushing your luck, Kudo.”

Shinichi throws a swift glance at the door.

“Did Ayumi-chan just mention we have ten more minutes?”

“Kudo-kun—“

But he’s already leaning over to her, their shoulders brushing as he closes the distance between them. The warmth of his hand cups her cheek to bring her face closer, his drunken eyes locking into her bewildered gaze. Shinichi’s lips part ever-so-slightly to whisper against hers.

“ Shiho— “

With one last smile, he leans in to kiss her.

She lets him.
.

(She always does.)

.

A/N: Reviews are extremely appreciated.

Chapter Text

"Thus much and more; and yet thou lov'st me not,

And never wilt! Love dwells not in our will.

Nor can I blame thee, though it be my lot

To strongly, wrongly, vainly love thee still.

― Lord Byron, final verse of "Love and Death"

.

I - unus

.

They take you away in a wooden casket as you lay asleep, laden in an ocean of white roses whose petals are barely a few shades paler than your skin.

.

The room is lit with the warm light of candles and a monochrome picture of you that I almost don't recognize : your expression stern as ever, eyes staring blankly at the camera as the corner of your lips curl into an almost-derisive smile. But it's you, I'm sure. Even when I'm way more used to a much younger version of yourself, even when the picture can't capture the peculiar shade of your strawberry blonde hair or the cynical glint in your jade green eyes... it's you in the haughtiness, the aprehension, the disdain. I know those well from you, and I wouldn't miss them.

I would never miss you— before, today or ever after.

But today…

Today we're burying Miyano Shiho.

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II- duo

.

Outside, a clear sky is framed by endless rows of late blooming cherry blossoms. April dies today, and in its haste to leave it takes you away with it. Summer isn't your thing anyway: you hate the heat and the overwhelming humidity of sunny days that drowns you in a breathless stupor. And I think it's ironic that you fell in love with Japan despite its temperamental weather, when your sensitive complexion was clearly more suited for higher grounds.

Japan stole your heart for some reason, and you learned to love it back with unyielding devotion— like a dandelion, you found new roots.

You'd be most surprised to know that you made quite a few friends on your short time with us, good friends. There's the kids— I don't care if you wouldn't allow it .

They deserve to know.

Because they are here, yes. And Ayumi is —as you would expect— inconsolable. Genta and Mitsuhiko, bless them, they are trying their best to be brave for her... for you . I'm trying my best too, but damn you, you are the one who would know what to do now, you're the one who would know how to fix this.

.

Why are you not here to fix this?

.

On a corner stands Jodie, and I know that she's trying her best to look unaffected while her eyes follow Akai's fleeting silhouette as he hastily leaves the room. He's taking this too hard on himself, and he shouldn't. You weren't his responsibility, after all. You were mine . I made you a promise I couldn't keep, and now you're trapped inside an endless slumber from which you'll never wake up again.

Heiji has flown all the way from Osaka just to say goodbye, even when he barely knew you at all. Kazuha stands by his side, her grip firm on his arm. She has no idea who you are, but she's here anyway; I'm assuming that if you're important enough for him to fly across the country for, you'd be important enough for her to be here too. Some things— people , they are sort of a package deal.

Ran is here, too. But she's not here because of me. She's here to mourn you. We all are. Even Sera and your aunt Mary, who you never meet.

.

Among the white sea that surrounds you, a single red rose blooms in your hair.

(He's nowhere to bee seen, but it suits you, and I let it be. Chasing phantoms can wait for another day.)

.

II - tres

.

Hakase can't even start his eulogy without breaking down in tears, and I'm sorry that I'm not strong enough to lift that burden off him.

(It's not my place.)

But you broke his heart, did you know that? He didn't just lose a friend... he lost his daughter.

(How dare you.)

.

.

They speak of you with such fondness that makes me wonder... when did it happen, that they got to know you so well, that they learned and fell in love with your quirks and flaws the same way they admired your virtues?

They talk about you as if they knew you, as if that was really you. Yet I can't help but wonder—

Was that really you?

They mourn the girl they knew so well, they mourn Haibara Ai.

But who's Miyano Shiho?

.

(And how do you mourn a stranger?)

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IV - quattuor

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I dream of you often.

.

In my dreams you walk, and I always follow. Sometimes you just stand there — unattainable, worlds out of my reach.

Sometimes, you kill me.

But the absolute worst dreams are the ones where you acknowledge me, the ones that blur with my memories because they happened once beyond my dreams. The ones about the lost opportunities I no longer can seize, where I hold you close to me and I get to tell you what I never knew before I lost you — the ones where you tell me I'm late, way too late.

I wake up empty.

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V - quīnque

.

Life goes on without you, of course it does.

You were never the center of my universe or the one I couldn't do without. You leave, like every stranger I meet on the commuting train or the clerk working at my favorite coffee shop. Like the childhood friends I never contacted after junior high graduation, or the old baa-chan who used to gift me candies when I stayed in my mother's country house on long summer nights. You leave and the world keeps running at its normal pace, and I'm the one chasing to keep up with it.

.

And it kills me that I can't grieve like the others do, because to them you were someone . In your own way, you belonged to them — a daughter, a best friend, a comrade. But what are you to me, even now, if not just a stranger? And why is my mind — my heart, determined to leave this open space in my chest where no one else seems to fit quite right? Saying we were friends is a stretch, saying I loved you is insanity.

So what is this, huh? What is this feeling of utter emptiness that hovers over my existence like an endless shadow, blinding me from light? What is this silence that wraps around my throat and takes the air out of my lungs? What is this hole, this vacancy in my life that I try in vain to fill with work and seeings and speckles of people that remind me of you in the most ridiculous, unassuming ways?

And it's every detail of you I missed back then that I now recall with excruciating clarity. It's the playful condescendence of your voice and the way you'd roll your eyes while fixing loose strands of hair behind your ear. It's your face, staring back at me with knowing camaraderie. The warmth of your hand holding me back in the face of danger, the weight of your head resting on my shoulder on long field-trip rides. It's you in my memories and you in my dreams. It's you that I can't let go of.

Normal life resumed without you, yet you took something away. And I see it reflected in the hollow stare in the mirror and the missing cup of coffee next to mine. I hear it in the jokes that no one else gets and the monotonous sound of your voicemail message, in the echo of the words I never said to you… and the silence, always the silence . I feel i in my hands, my skin, my heart— this sense of pure, sheer incompleteness.

It's something I can't tell, something they wouldn't understand. Of course they wouldn't. How do I explain this to anyone?

How do I tell the world I lost you when you were never mine?

How to explain the emptiness of a place you never filled?

The worst kind of pain is the one you're not allowed to mourn, the one that feeds on your heart because there's no way of letting it out.

.

You leave me with nothing — Not a letter or a single fading picture. Not a broken promise or a grudge to hold. Not a kiss, not a love confession. Not the lingering touch of your hands of my skin or the warmth of words whispered to my ears.

Nothing, at all.

You leave, and you take my heart, my life away with you.

.

You leave all of me behind.

.

.

Chapter Text

He meets her on a rainy August morning, the creaking sound of the swing’s rusty chain half-swallowed by the soft pitter patter drumming on the plastic slide. Red riding hood with her unusual reddish-brown hair messily tucked inside her water coat, a string of watercolor strawberries blurring into red lines over her yellow water shoes.

“One in five hundred thousand.” 

The boy offers no context to his words, instead just stands in front of the girl as her shoes dig into the rubber-matted floor, bringing herself to an abrupt halt.

“What?” 

“The chance of being struck by lightning.” He explains, “Are you trying your luck?”

The strawberry blonde purses her lips with distaste, swallowing back a profanity. She lifts her feet off the ground, but in lack of momentum the swing just sways a bit sideways. 

“With you here, that number is sure to decrease tenfold.” She snaps back humorlessly.

“Ha. Ha.” He deadpans, squinting his eyes into a nasty glare, “Very funny.”

Ai shrugs, “You started it.”

To her surprise, the child detective laughs at her remark.

“Seriously? I started it? What are you, eight?”

She frowns for a split of a second, then puts on the most irksome smile she can manage in her face.

“I’m actually nine. Still older than you.”

Conan rolls his eyes.

“Sure, sure…” he concedes, feeling exasperated. “You’re so old , jeez… practically dying. Let’s not fasten that process and get some shelter, shall we? I’m drenched.”

The scientist wants to argue that she didn’t ask him to come and that her current lifespan is none of his concern, but she finds hard to muster the words when she realizes that he is indeed drenched, his hoodie covered in big blotches of water stains that fooled the shield of his blue umbrella; his jeans, shades darker below his knees; white shoes unrecognizable under muddy waters.

Her heart sinks with feelings she swore she wouldn’t allow herself to harbour, so she shakes her head to dismiss those thoughts, and lets out a deep sigh to clear her mind.

“Again, judging by the mortality rate in your vicinity, being close to you is the last thing that’d ensure my longevity.”

He groans, losing patience and sticking his hand out as if he were asking her to take it. Furious raindrops immediately soak his sleeve completely wet.

“Alright, do it for mine, then!” The expression on his face borders on sad, and that leaves Ai too puzzled to shoot him any snarky remark. “I can’t keep running around looking for you like this. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

Then don’t.  

But she just stares at him, and the raindrops pooling on his open palm like the fear that threatens to drown her. And the words don’t come. 

“Okay.” She says instead, and she sweeps the rainwater on his hand with her own as he leads her home.