Work Text:
When Takagi answered his apartment door, he found Kudou Shinichi standing on his doorstep, dejectedly shaking out a mangled umbrella as the wind and rain howled through the trees in the park across the street.
“Detective Takagi–!” Kudou started, then stopped, biting his lip. He looked something like a drowned puppy, rainwater running out of his soaked hair and down his cheek. “Uh, would it be alright if I came in for a minute?”
Takagi winced. “Oh, Kudou-kun, tonight isn’t-”
“Takagi-kun? Who’s at the door this late?” Satou asked, poking her head into the entryway. Her brow furrowed with concern when she saw Kudou. “Oh! Kudou-kun! What happened to you?”
Kudou huffed out a sheepish laugh and glanced down at the garbled remains of his umbrella. “Kind of… a lot, I guess.”
Takagi frowned, but before he could say anything Satou had latched onto Kudou’s arm, pulling him into Takagi’s apartment.
“Well, come in! There are towels in the bathroom, dry yourself off a bit and come join us for dinner. We’re having hotpot, and there’s more than enough for you, too.” Satou said, gently shoving Kudou in the direction of the bathroom. He looked back over his shoulder at them with wide eyes in an expression that, for some reason, gave Takagi a sense of déjà vu so strong it was almost vertigo-inducing, but Satou just shooed Kudou off into the bathroom.
“U-um, Satou-san,” Takagi started, tentative. “Our date night–”
Satou rounded on him suddenly, and Takagi narrowly avoided choking on his own tongue in surprise.
“Something is wrong, Takagi-kun.” She had the same look of single-minded determination in her eyes that had kept Takagi alert during too many long, dull stakeouts. “Kudou-kun never asks for help.”
“Well, technically, he hasn’t,” Takagi said, and then promptly clamped his jaw shut at Satou’s sharp look. He’d hoped that having date night at his own place would’ve prevented their coworkers from interrupting them yet again, but he supposed he’d failed to account for an undefined emotional emergency from his newest junior on the force. “You’re right,” he sighed. “We can always have another date night. We should try to be there for Kudou-kun.”
“Good,” Satou said with an approving smile. “Come on, let’s get everything ready.”
Kudou wandered into the room a few minutes later to join them, wordlessly slumping down onto one of the cushions around the low table. He somehow looked even worse than he did back on the doorstep. Takagi and Satou exchanged a look of concern over the hotpot, and set about trying to get Kudou to eat and relax. Their attempts were mostly unsuccessful, until Satou nudged Kudou a can of chuhai and he managed to work up a buzz.
“I’m sorry for ruining your date night,” Kudou mumbled, barely managing to get out the last couple words through a sudden hiccupping fit.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, Kudou-kun, hotpot is better with more company anyway,” Satou said, shooting Takagi a knife-edged look.
“No,” Kudou lazily shook his head, “It’s not his fault, I knew it was your date night before coming. When I went to grab some case files from Detective Takagi earlier today, I saw his shopping list. It was full of common hotpot ingredients, but Detective Takagi lives alone, so I figured he was having someone over. And Detective Satou, today you wore light makeup, which I’ve only seen you do for special occasions, since you wear heavier makeup for stakeouts.” Kudou knocked back the last of his can of chuhai before going back to poking at the wood grain of the table. “So I just kind of… figured, I guess. But I came anyway. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, Kudou-kun,” Takagi said, placing a hand on Kudou’s shoulder for reassurance. He shared another concerned look with Satou, who nodded in encouragement. “But… you seem really down tonight, did something happen?”
At this, Kudou lowered his face into his hands and groaned like the world was ending. “I messed up with Ran again today. I’m always messing up,” he said.
Takagi winced sympathetically. He wasn’t exactly sure how to ask, and he was relieved when Kudou continued.
“I just thought that after I… after I came back, everything would be right, and I could pick up where I left off with it all, but…” Kudou sighed, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve. “It was three years. I was gone for longer than I thought I’d be, and I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d be leaving behind when I came back, either. So much happened, and I made so many friends,” Kudou paused, something like regret floating through his eyes, “... and allies, and…” he lowered his face to rest on the table, and the rest of his words came muffled. “I can’t go back, but I don’t fit here like I used to. It’s like I’m stuck between everything right now, and I can’t stand completely in one world or the other, or I’ll burn up. I think that’s why I came here. It doesn’t feel like I’m choosing, you know?”
Takagi did not know. Did Kudou feel like he was choosing between… his life here, and his life in America, or wherever it was he disappeared to for those three years? Or was it something else? He nodded understandingly anyway.
Satou also gave a knowing hum, even as her eyebrows creased in worry. “Well,” she said, “you’re here now, and all you have to choose at the moment is if you want another drink.”
Kudou rolled his head to the side and peered up at Satou, who gave him a bright smile.
“Yeah… I’ll have another.” He returned her smile with a little effort. “Thank you.”
The conversation turned to work and cases after that, Kudou complaining about how much paperwork apparently came with officially being on the force, Satou and Takagi recounting old stakeouts and giving Kudou advice of varying usefulness that he soaked up with rapt attention. The question of what Kudou had been doing during his long absence burned at the front of Takagi’s mind, but it seemed like a dicey topic to touch, so he contented himself with being pulled along by the natural flow of the conversation.
Kudou hiccupped violently after downing another half of a chuhai. “Chuhai’ssgood,” he slurred. “Shochu highball… wasn’t ever one of ‘em named Shochu.” He gingerly placed the can on the floor and curled up next to it, tracing the aluminum rim with a wobbling finger. “No weird memories.”
“... Satou-san, you picked up regular cans of chuhai, right?” Takagi asked, reaching around the hotpot to inspect her can. It read STRONG in bold letters on the side, 9% ABV, double the amount in a normal can. Satou snatched the can back from him and downed the rest. “How many has he had?” He asked warily.
“Two.”
“Two?”
Satou nodded over to Kudou, who hiccupped listlessly. “Halfway through his third.”
“He’s… this much? From two?”
Kudou pouted, eyes still trained on the rim of the can. “S’ not my fault the poison messed up my liver a little…”
“Poison?”
Kudou’s brow furrowed. “Alcohol poisoning…” he whispered to himself, then started giggling like it was some kind of private joke.
Takagi sighed a much too long-suffering sigh. He needed to get Kudou some water, and they all needed to get some rest. He turned to Satou, who was absently tip-tapping away on the empty can in her hand, a bewildered smile on her face as she regarded Kudou. “Satou-san, will you be–?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m only a little buzzed now, I think I’ll be fine to walk home. Will you be okay with Kudou-kun? I can help you set out the extra futon for him before I go.”
“I’d appreciate that, thank you.” Takagi answered, foisting himself up to gather the dishes and wash them off. Satou joined him in the small kitchen a few minutes later as he was finishing the last of the utensils.
“I tidied everything else up, all that’s left is to roll the kid into bed somehow,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I’m… not sure what he needs. I think he was right to end up here, though. You’ve always been better at comforting others than me. You’re an easy one to open up to, Takagi.”
Takagi turned to her, wide eyed. Satou was smiling at him, bright and confident and certain. He felt his ears turn red. She was kissing him before he could summon up any kind of response, and pulling away before he could get any more lost.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, but if you end up needing any help, call me.” She squeezed his shoulder gently as she left.
After seeing Satou out, Takagi returned to a still listless Kudou laying on his floor, right next to the futon Satou had laid out.
“Kudou-kun, can you sit up? You need to drink some water,” Takagi said, gently prodding him. Kudou groaned, but he did sit up and start obediently sipping from the glass Takagi pressed into his hands. “Try to drink that glass before you sleep, alright? You did just turn 20, I’m not sure how much experience you have with alcohol.”
Kudou scoffed. He seemed to be sobering up a bit, at least. “Not much of this kind…” he mumbled into the glass.
Takagi’s brow furrowed. Kudou didn’t technically ask for help, but Takagi could read between the lines here. He settled down somewhat next to Kudou, just far enough away that he could be present but not crowding. After a silent moment, Kudou looked up and met his eyes, and Takagi tried giving him a sympathetic look. Kudou searched his face, and Takagi watched as his features seemed to soften as he came to a decision.
“They took so much from me,” Kudou said, almost a whisper. He looked away from Takagi and peered into the glass again. “A lot of it was my own fault. I was stupid, and inexperienced, and I shouldn’t have lied to her. I don’t regret all of it, but… I wish I could’ve done some things differently. I don’t think I can fix things with Ran. I wouldn’t trust me either, after what I put her through.”
Takagi waited a moment, but it didn’t seem like Kudou would elaborate, so he decided to prod a bit. “Earlier, you said something about… leaving things behind, and choosing?”
Kudou winced. “Yeah,” he said, and took a steadying breath. “There’s someone I left behind. I didn’t want to. He always saw me for… me. He helped me come back. And I actually saw him again, today.” Setting the glass down, Kudou drew his knees up to his chest and settled his arms around them. “I didn’t know I’d be able to recognize him so quickly outside of–uh, outside of America? I can’t go back there, so I didn’t think that I’d ever see him again, and… I wanted to talk to him so bad, tell him how much he– but…”
“What stopped you, then?” Takagi asked.
Kudou looked up at him, eyes swimming with some unnameable emotion between hope and fear. “He saw me, and he smiled. At me. He smiled at me.”
“That… sounds like a good thing?” Takagi said, trying not to sound too confused.
Kudou laughed, sad and bitter. “Knowing that things won’t work out with Ran is like letting go of the idea that I can just go back to how things were before, and that’s… It’s not easy, but it’s easier. Talking to him, though, that’s like… It feels like something new. It’s like letting myself accept that it all happened, and… letting myself have a hope for the future. At some point in the last three years, I stopped doing that. I was gone for so long, and every time I thought I’d taken one step forward, I kept learning that there were ten more steps than before. Eventually, holding on to hope that I’d be able to come back soon started to hurt more than it helped, so… I stopped.” Takagi caught a glimpse of wetness in Kudou’s eyes before he hid his face in his knees. Takagi almost didn’t catch his next words, muffled as they were.
“I’m afraid to hope again.”
Kudou Shinichi had always felt larger than life. His reputation had preceded him from a very young age, and he’d always managed to live up to it, making deductions and apprehending murderers with seemingly no effort. Takagi had seen Kudou’s confidence and skill grow since the boy was in middle school, and he’d turned into a full-fledged detective without parallel.
Right now though, Kudou just felt like a kid who’d been thrust into some sort of unnameable situation that had forced him to change and adapt to situations probably no one should need to adapt to. Whatever lessons he’d had to learn, Takagi was sure there were kinder ways to learn them.
Kudou’s shoulders rose and fell with his breathing, steady and even. It didn’t look like he was crying, though Takagi figured he was just trying to keep some control over his vulnerability, even like this. Takagi let him, and sat silently until he was ready. Eventually, one of Kudou’s breaths was a deep sigh instead, and he pulled his head out of his arms.
Takagi held the glass of water up for him, and Kudou accepted, finishing it about as quickly as he had finished his earlier cans of chuhai.
“... I think you should try.” Takagi said, finally. Kudou’s eyes snapped to his, and his gaze was sharp again, even through the diminishing haze of alcohol. “I think you should try to talk to your friend that you left behind.”
Takagi could see the fear and worry creep back into Kudou’s expression. “But… what if,” Kudou started, chewing on his lip.
“You said he always saw you for you, right?” Takagi asked, and Kudou nodded. “It takes a special kind of person to do that. And it could be nice, having someone to talk to about your time in... ‘America’.”
Kudou’s hands twitched around his empty water glass. “Right,” he said, slowly. “America.”
Takagi hesitated a bit before choosing his next words. “I’m not sure about the full circumstances of your trip, Kudou-kun, but it sounds a little like the ‘choosing’ you were talking about is less of a ‘between two things’ choice and more of a ‘moving forward’ kind of choice. Maybe things between you and everyone else are different now, but not being able to go back isn’t necessarily bad, it’s just different. Ah, but I may be completely off-base,” he said, scratching at a patch of stubble on his cheek.
Kudou didn’t respond. His brow was furrowed and he was staring at the floor with an expression of concentration so intense, Takagi was sure if it were sentient it would’ve confessed to some sort of crime.
“Um. I’ll go grab you some clothes to sleep in, then,” Takagi said as he rose, which got an absent nod from Kudou.
When Takagi returned, Kudou was laying face down on top of the futon and its blanket, still in his suit, jacket and all. He let out a fond, silent sigh, and placed the clothes on the floor near Kudou’s head. “There are the clothes if you need them,” he said quietly, “I’ll turn the light off for you, then.”
Kudou said something, a little too muffled by his pillow for Takagi to hear.
“Huh?”
“I said I’d tell you in the next life,” Kudou said only marginally clearer, face still hidden in the pillow. “This feels kind of like starting a new life, so I thought I would tell you.”
“Kudou… kun?”
Kudou didn’t answer, possibly asleep? Maybe he’d hit the “dead tired” phase of sobering up and–
The claustrophobic memory of an elevator in the Touto Tower hit Takagi all at once.
If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.
In the next life.
“Conan-kun?” Takagi hissed, then clamped his hand over his mouth.
A soft laugh rose from Kudou’s pillow. “Goodnight, Detective Takagi.”
“G-” Takagi choked on air, struggled to clear his throat quietly, took a deep breath, and tried again. “Goodnight, Kudou-kun.”
Before Takagi turned off the light, he looked back at Kudou, so many strange pieces from both this night and the last three years clicking into place, others sticking out far worse than before. Takagi wasn’t sure this was a puzzle he was going to be able to solve, but, he thought as he flipped the switch and the room was blanketed in the quiet sounds of rain and night, he was grateful to be trusted with part of it anyway.