Chapter Text
目を闭じれば 色褪せない场所がある たとえどんな离れても 信じ合える 何を失っても キズナだけは壊せない
Close your eyes. There’s a place where colors never fade. No matter how far apart, trust still bridges the distance. No matter what’s lost, the bond remains unbroken.
A lifetime is too long, so long that Shinichi can barely remember which year that last day belonged to.
But he remembers the twilight vividly—the golden glow of the setting sun. Kids passing by chattered excitedly about their New Year shrine visits, startling a few birds perched on a telephone pole. Their wings fluttered as they scattered into the clouds, leaving behind faint silhouettes like ink splashes on rice paper.
And it was in this very scene that he waited for Ran.
Her cherry blossom hairpin swayed gently as she approached—step by step—from the corner of Beika Street, near Poirot Café, and finally to the spot right in front of him. Dressed in a pale pink kimono, she carried a paper umbrella, her wooden clogs clicking softly against the pavement. A fluffy collar around her neck made her seem so warm, so soft.
The evening glow painted the sky in hues of red, and with a smile, she placed her hand in his.
“It’s New Year’s Eve,” she said. “Let’s go to the shrine for Hatsumode together.”
And so, they did—venturing to Tokyo’s famous Meiji Shrine in Shibuya.
By 10 PM, they stepped off a packed train, joining a throng of people flowing toward the shrine like a river. Hand in hand, they navigated the crowd carefully, like two little boats paddling toward the same shore.
Hatsumode was an intricate ritual: rinsing hands and mouth with pure water at the purification fountain, letting incense smoke envelop them for a spiritual cleanse, tossing coins into the offering box, drawing fortunes, and picking protective charms.
Ran handed Shinichi her handbag, asking him to fetch a five-yen coin—go-en, she explained, a pun on “fate” or “connection.” A wish for a bond deeper than the invisible red thread already tying them together.
Shinichi knew her thoughts all too well. Before leaving, he’d secretly stuffed her bag with a handful of five-yen coins. Now, his preparation came in handy.
While others politely tossed their single coins, Ran was hurling entire handfuls into the offering box. A nearby elderly priest, who had probably seen everything in his lifetime, chuckled at her antics.
When Ran finally threw her last coin, the priest gently patted her hand and mused, “Do you really need this much fate with just one person?”
She froze for a moment, then nodded shyly.
By the time they finished all the rituals, the New Year bell had already chimed. The first day of the year was always full of hopes and dreams for the days ahead. Around them, younger crowds swarmed the nearby shopping street, staking their claim at food stalls: grilled skewers, ramen, pork soup, sweet sake—an endless feast.
Three cups of sweet sake in, Ran was already a little tipsy. The streetlights blurred and wavered as she staggered forward, insisting she wanted fried pork cutlets next. Shinichi hurried to steady her, half exasperated, half indulgent, his arm circling her shoulders as they moved.
The wind howled softly as he caught snippets of her murmurs, her voice sweet and slightly slurred.
“So much fate… so much…”
“Monday’s fate, Sunday’s fate… Sunny days, rainy days… Childhood fate, grown-up fate… Fate when we’re together, fate when we’re apart… Fate from the start to the very, very end…”
She suddenly stopped in the middle of the street, turning to him with a wide smile—a smile so big it made her hiccup mid-laugh.
Shinichi thought about how this very smile had always been her secret weapon against him since they were kids. One look at her grinning face, and all his logic would crumble. And now, with her cheeks flushed a rosy red, that smile was even more disarming—more beautiful, more irresistible, more… Ran.
So, what was he supposed to do now?
“You forgot one thing,” she teased, leaning closer, her breath warm against the cold night air.
“What’s that?”
“To seal the deal, we need ten thousand kisses worth of fate! Mwah!”
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