Chapter Text
Shinichi knew Ran had a habit of taking photos. Not just any photos, though—she loved snapping pictures of the two of them together. Most of the time, they weren’t even full-on portraits. Maybe their sneakers, side by side, or her fingers curling around his arm. Occasionally, she'd record a quick video. The sound would come out all scratchy on the tiny screen, and yet it felt cozy—like something you'd watch all afternoon with a hot cocoa in hand. Ran always took a bunch in one go, worried the first few wouldn’t turn out right, pressing the shutter two or three times for the same angle. And she never deleted any of them. If memory cards could explode, hers would’ve gone up in flames ages ago.
He’d long accepted his role in this hobby of hers. Back when they were kids, it meant slipping her a spare battery at just the right time—casually, like it had been sitting in his pocket all along. She was still using that clunky CCD camera Agasa-hakase had given her for her birthday, and she’d be thrilled, her shy smile lighting up the room. The same night, Agasa got treated to an adorable dinner: an omurice with Chibi Maruko-chan’s face drawn in ketchup. Shinichi cracked the eggs; Ran did everything else. And, of course, Shinichi had to steady the little stool for her, making sure she didn’t topple over while cooking.
When she got older, she upgraded to a Polaroid. The film was expensive, but that didn’t stop her from taking photos with Sonoko. She’d scrimp and save, skipping butter cookies (which she’d been feeding him just a day ago, by the way) and canceling weekend outings. The reason? “Out of funds,” she’d shrug In the end. It was always up to him to dip into his own allowance, treating this little princess to a downstairs café trip just to snag a chance to see her. By the second canceled date, Shinichi had had enough. That’s the beauty of online shopping: the next day, a giant package landed at the Mouri Detective Agency. Inside? Stacks and stacks of film—white-bordered, blue-bordered, floral-patterned.
Timing it just right, Shinichi appeared outside the café downstairs, striking what he thought was a dashing pose. He waited for her to come out, expecting a compliment at the very least. Instead, she stared at the box of film like it was some bizarre art installation. "Shinichi," she said finally, “Why’d you buy so much film? You didn’t even buy the camera to go with it. This is so wasteful!”
His heart sank. So much for playing the knight in shining armor. It’s for you, he wanted to say. So you can take as many pictures as you want without scrimping on cookies or canceling plans. But saying that would only make her insist on paying him back—or worse, buying him something equally expensive in return. And that would ruin the whole point. He just wanted her to be happy, not stuck in some endless cycle of "you bought me this, so I’ll buy you that."
He didn’t need fancy gifts from her. A fridge magnet from a trip, a postcard from a workshop, a detective game from Shibuya, even an old edition of Sherlock Holmes she happened to spot—anything she genuinely wanted him to have, anything that made her think, This is perfect for Shinichi, was more than enough. Sure, he knew she didn’t see it that way. For her, it was about fairness, about not owing anyone. But that habit of hers, always evening the scales, felt too… formal. When would she finally just take what he offered, no strings attached?
So there he stood, outside Poirot, trying to salvage the moment.
"Hey... We've known each other for so long, the three of us, and yet you only take pictures with Sonoko? That’s just not fair, Ran! Listen up, these Polaroid films aren’t a gift, okay? They’re for a special rule: if I ever feel like taking a picture with you, you have to say yes, right away. Even if Sonoko’s waiting for her turn, I get priority—no arguments! Of course, I know that’s a little selfish, so on regular days, you can use the films however you like… just make sure I still get first dibs, alright?"
He paused for dramatic effect, then added, "And another thing! You’re not allowed to say you’re out of film anymore, or use saving up for film as an excuse to cancel on me. Got it? Ran—Hey, stop laughing! Are you even listening to me?"