Tadaima - I'm Home (Detective Conan, Heiji/Kazuha, #2)
Title: "Tadaima" - I'm Home.
Author: fireblazie
Pairing: Heiji/Kazuha
Fandom: Detective Conan
Theme: #2: news; letter
Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan.. or the song. xD
She remembers when he took her hand and held it - really, truly, more than just a friend held it. She doesn't remember the tiny details - she doesn't know if it was raining or sunny or cloudy or both. In her mind, she thinks that it might as well have been a combination of all sorts of weather, melded together into one fuzzy atmosphere.
She doesn't remember what she was wearing. She doesn't remember what he was wearing, either. But what she does remember, excruciatingly clearly, is the feel of his warm, slightly larger hand enveloping hers, and his piercing green eyes gazing into hers with an emotion she'd never seen there before.
The next words that fall out of his mouth she remembers with startling clarity. And it hurts, because she doesn't want to remember. She doesn't want to remember when he left her..
"I'll see you soon."
"I promise."
Years have passed.
She hasn't heard a word from him since then.
//-//
She finds herself at Ran-chan's house more often than ever. At around the same time Heiji had left, Conan-kun had left, too, and with the disappearance of the two men, Ran-chan's already rare and precious phone calls from Kudo-kun had stopped, as well.
"If anything," Kazuha remembers herself saying, "it's their loss, isn't it? Not ours."
Ran-chan had forced a smile - a thin, painful smile, "Right. It's - it's their - their fault -"
The laughter had slowly turned into tears soon after.
//-//
The suitors had flocked to her, asking her out on dates. After getting over her initial shock that she actually had guys that liked her, she found herself declining each one with an apologetic smile. It was instinctive.
"It's Hattori, isn't it?" she recalls one of them asking, and she smiles silently in reply.
//-//
She keeps a picture of the two of them on her desk. It's one that was taken just a few months ago - taken by Ran-chan, no less - when they had gone to visit Tokyo.. It was a simple picture of the two of them, sitting together on the Mouris' couch, just lazing around and smiling. Kazuha was laughing at something Heiji had said, and Heiji was talking animatedly, a sparkle in his eye, one hand inching towards the bag of potato chips on the floor.
She misses those days.
Because, god, what she wouldn't give for another petty argument about his annoying cap, or how he was always in danger, or - or - or -
She even wishes that she could hear his deep, husky voice, calling her an aho, of all things..
Sometimes, she imagines that he'll walk in the door, face thinner and more angular, clothes torn and dirty, but with that same sheepish and arrogant grin - "I told you I'd come back."
She wishes and she prays.
They are never answered.
//-//
She cries herself to sleep at night. It's something that she tries to hide, and she succeeds. Her father is already at work by the time she wakes up, and she has time to clean her face and remove trace of the tears. Sometimes, she'll remember - Heiji always knew when she had been crying. It was that mystery geek side of him.. She recalls him saying something about the puffiness of her eyes, some strange, invisible hint she'd never even thought of..
...and realize that she loves him even more.
At first, she would call his cell phone every night, four times, five times, six times. She knows his number by heart and can press the numbers on the keypad without even looking.
There is never an answer. Nobody ever picks up. The phone keeps ringing, and ringing, and ringing. And she hangs up with a heavy heart.
//-//
It is raining.
Thunder booms in the sky, announcing Mother Nature's wrath, lightning creating jagged peaks against the dark gray clouds. She sits on a dark green bench outside the school building, a spot overlooking the grassy fields and trees behind the school. This is - no. It used to be... used to be their spot.
Now it is simply another bench filled with painful memories.
She shakes her head, droplets of rain clinging to her hair and face. She closes her eyes for a good part of a minute before pushing herself off the bench and beginning her walk home.
She stops to check the mail.
She pauses at a particular envelope - white, crisp, clean - with unmistakable, familiar handwriting...
Her heart skips a beat.
There is a wrinkled piece of white paper, ripped around the edges. His scrawl is messy and hastily written. Tears prickle her eyes and she finds that she is having difficulty breathing.
"I'm coming home."
She swallows.
"So wait for me."
//-//
And so she waits.
Where once a forced, sad smile claimed her lips, now a new one - one of undescribable, unerasable hope sits. Her thin, gaunt face is replaced with a fuller, happier one, and she finds herself sitting outside her house, just waiting, waiting, waiting..
He doesn't come, but she still waits, nonetheless. Because she knows that he's coming - she knows it. An unbreakable bond, connected by their one unique chain.
//-//
Months pass, and despite how much she tries to hold on, she realizes that her hope is slowly slipping away. Snow falls steadily from the sky, white crystals dotting the ground.
She wraps her jacket tighter around herself, imagining that it's not the material, but his arms encircling her, keeping her warm, never leaving her, always there...
She sits at the bench, their spot, the one they always occupied during lunch, before school, and after school. She remembers her fondest memories with him all took place here. She wonders if he remembers, as well.
She shifts herself so that she can lie down on the wooden surface. Her jeans absorb the wet snowflakes, and she closes her eyes, leaning her head against the back of the bench. Just a little bit, she thinks, just for a little while, give me some peace.
She lets out a sigh and dreams.
"Do you mind?" a voice calls out, amused and irritated all at once, "some people would like to sit down."
She raises her head -
Oh, god.
This can't be happening.
Is it real - is it really, is this - I can't -
"Oh, god," she breathes, and moves into a sitting position, raising herself up from the bench slowly, eyes meeting his, never letting go. Green. Still that same, beautiful green she remembered from long ago. "Is it - is it really... you?"
"...still an aho after all these years, what did I expect?"
She leaps off the bench and into his waiting arms. She buries her head into his chest, feeling his arms encircle her body. Warmth floods her, the kind of warmth she hadn't felt in a long time.
"You're freezing, 'zuha!" Just like that, they slip back into their old routine. Something else, however, something different and new and just amazing surrounds them, and he tightens his grip on her, pulling her closer to him. She throws her arms around his neck and stands on her tiptoes, sobbing into his neck.
"I hate you," she mutters. "I hate you - I - I hate you - and I - I hate you, Hattori Heiji."
He only laughs in reply, and she is able to feel the rumble in his throat and chest. She trembles in his arms.
"I thought you were dead," she whispers, defeatedly. "You never called, and you never wrote, and I didn't know what had happened to you -"
"I'm here now, right?" His breath tickles her ear.
She pulls herself closer to him, if possible - her lips make contact with his neck, and she breathes in his scent, cinnamon.
"You're back," she says, and feels him hold her closer, as if trying to meld their bodies together. "You're back, you're back.."
He rests his chin on the top of her head. "Yeah. I'm home."
You are the love of my life
And I'm so glad you found me
You are the love of my life
Baby, put your arms around me
I guess this is how it feels
When you finally find something real
My angel in the night, you are my love
The love of my life...
- fin -
The song used at the end is called "Love of my Life".. and I know it was composed, or at least the piano was played by Jim Brickman, but I don't know who sings. Haha. Gorgeous song, though.
Author: fireblazie
Pairing: Heiji/Kazuha
Fandom: Detective Conan
Theme: #2: news; letter
Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan.. or the song. xD
She remembers when he took her hand and held it - really, truly, more than just a friend held it. She doesn't remember the tiny details - she doesn't know if it was raining or sunny or cloudy or both. In her mind, she thinks that it might as well have been a combination of all sorts of weather, melded together into one fuzzy atmosphere.
She doesn't remember what she was wearing. She doesn't remember what he was wearing, either. But what she does remember, excruciatingly clearly, is the feel of his warm, slightly larger hand enveloping hers, and his piercing green eyes gazing into hers with an emotion she'd never seen there before.
The next words that fall out of his mouth she remembers with startling clarity. And it hurts, because she doesn't want to remember. She doesn't want to remember when he left her..
"I'll see you soon."
"I promise."
Years have passed.
She hasn't heard a word from him since then.
//-//
She finds herself at Ran-chan's house more often than ever. At around the same time Heiji had left, Conan-kun had left, too, and with the disappearance of the two men, Ran-chan's already rare and precious phone calls from Kudo-kun had stopped, as well.
"If anything," Kazuha remembers herself saying, "it's their loss, isn't it? Not ours."
Ran-chan had forced a smile - a thin, painful smile, "Right. It's - it's their - their fault -"
The laughter had slowly turned into tears soon after.
//-//
The suitors had flocked to her, asking her out on dates. After getting over her initial shock that she actually had guys that liked her, she found herself declining each one with an apologetic smile. It was instinctive.
"It's Hattori, isn't it?" she recalls one of them asking, and she smiles silently in reply.
//-//
She keeps a picture of the two of them on her desk. It's one that was taken just a few months ago - taken by Ran-chan, no less - when they had gone to visit Tokyo.. It was a simple picture of the two of them, sitting together on the Mouris' couch, just lazing around and smiling. Kazuha was laughing at something Heiji had said, and Heiji was talking animatedly, a sparkle in his eye, one hand inching towards the bag of potato chips on the floor.
She misses those days.
Because, god, what she wouldn't give for another petty argument about his annoying cap, or how he was always in danger, or - or - or -
She even wishes that she could hear his deep, husky voice, calling her an aho, of all things..
Sometimes, she imagines that he'll walk in the door, face thinner and more angular, clothes torn and dirty, but with that same sheepish and arrogant grin - "I told you I'd come back."
She wishes and she prays.
They are never answered.
//-//
She cries herself to sleep at night. It's something that she tries to hide, and she succeeds. Her father is already at work by the time she wakes up, and she has time to clean her face and remove trace of the tears. Sometimes, she'll remember - Heiji always knew when she had been crying. It was that mystery geek side of him.. She recalls him saying something about the puffiness of her eyes, some strange, invisible hint she'd never even thought of..
...and realize that she loves him even more.
At first, she would call his cell phone every night, four times, five times, six times. She knows his number by heart and can press the numbers on the keypad without even looking.
There is never an answer. Nobody ever picks up. The phone keeps ringing, and ringing, and ringing. And she hangs up with a heavy heart.
//-//
It is raining.
Thunder booms in the sky, announcing Mother Nature's wrath, lightning creating jagged peaks against the dark gray clouds. She sits on a dark green bench outside the school building, a spot overlooking the grassy fields and trees behind the school. This is - no. It used to be... used to be their spot.
Now it is simply another bench filled with painful memories.
She shakes her head, droplets of rain clinging to her hair and face. She closes her eyes for a good part of a minute before pushing herself off the bench and beginning her walk home.
She stops to check the mail.
She pauses at a particular envelope - white, crisp, clean - with unmistakable, familiar handwriting...
Her heart skips a beat.
There is a wrinkled piece of white paper, ripped around the edges. His scrawl is messy and hastily written. Tears prickle her eyes and she finds that she is having difficulty breathing.
"I'm coming home."
She swallows.
"So wait for me."
//-//
And so she waits.
Where once a forced, sad smile claimed her lips, now a new one - one of undescribable, unerasable hope sits. Her thin, gaunt face is replaced with a fuller, happier one, and she finds herself sitting outside her house, just waiting, waiting, waiting..
He doesn't come, but she still waits, nonetheless. Because she knows that he's coming - she knows it. An unbreakable bond, connected by their one unique chain.
//-//
Months pass, and despite how much she tries to hold on, she realizes that her hope is slowly slipping away. Snow falls steadily from the sky, white crystals dotting the ground.
She wraps her jacket tighter around herself, imagining that it's not the material, but his arms encircling her, keeping her warm, never leaving her, always there...
She sits at the bench, their spot, the one they always occupied during lunch, before school, and after school. She remembers her fondest memories with him all took place here. She wonders if he remembers, as well.
She shifts herself so that she can lie down on the wooden surface. Her jeans absorb the wet snowflakes, and she closes her eyes, leaning her head against the back of the bench. Just a little bit, she thinks, just for a little while, give me some peace.
She lets out a sigh and dreams.
"Do you mind?" a voice calls out, amused and irritated all at once, "some people would like to sit down."
She raises her head -
Oh, god.
This can't be happening.
Is it real - is it really, is this - I can't -
"Oh, god," she breathes, and moves into a sitting position, raising herself up from the bench slowly, eyes meeting his, never letting go. Green. Still that same, beautiful green she remembered from long ago. "Is it - is it really... you?"
"...still an aho after all these years, what did I expect?"
She leaps off the bench and into his waiting arms. She buries her head into his chest, feeling his arms encircle her body. Warmth floods her, the kind of warmth she hadn't felt in a long time.
"You're freezing, 'zuha!" Just like that, they slip back into their old routine. Something else, however, something different and new and just amazing surrounds them, and he tightens his grip on her, pulling her closer to him. She throws her arms around his neck and stands on her tiptoes, sobbing into his neck.
"I hate you," she mutters. "I hate you - I - I hate you - and I - I hate you, Hattori Heiji."
He only laughs in reply, and she is able to feel the rumble in his throat and chest. She trembles in his arms.
"I thought you were dead," she whispers, defeatedly. "You never called, and you never wrote, and I didn't know what had happened to you -"
"I'm here now, right?" His breath tickles her ear.
She pulls herself closer to him, if possible - her lips make contact with his neck, and she breathes in his scent, cinnamon.
"You're back," she says, and feels him hold her closer, as if trying to meld their bodies together. "You're back, you're back.."
He rests his chin on the top of her head. "Yeah. I'm home."
You are the love of my life
And I'm so glad you found me
You are the love of my life
Baby, put your arms around me
I guess this is how it feels
When you finally find something real
My angel in the night, you are my love
The love of my life...
- fin -
The song used at the end is called "Love of my Life".. and I know it was composed, or at least the piano was played by Jim Brickman, but I don't know who sings. Haha. Gorgeous song, though.