[February 6, 2013] [Detective Conan] Stuck
Title: Stuck
Day/Theme: February 6, 2013 - Where I live, everyone is sleeping.
Series: Detective Conan
Character: Mouri Kogorou, with mentions of Mouri Ran, Edogawa Conan, and Amuro Tooru
Rating: PG (for alcohol use and mild profanity)
I made it.
An intoxicated and dishevelled Mouri Kogorou wobbles as he climbs up the dark stairway to his apartment. He turns the doorknob, ready to blurt out the perfunctory "I'm home" despite the parched feeling lingering at the back of his throat, but the door won't open. That's odd, he thinks. Ran's always left the door unlocked whenever I'm out late. Oh, well, guess I'll just use the key, then-
Damn, his keys aren't there in his pants pocket. Suddenly becoming a bit more alert, he checks the other one; still not there. His inner breast pockets? Nope. Must've left it at home, then.
He knocks on the door, calling out his only daughter's name. "Ran! Ran! Open the door; it's me, your father!" He stares at his, thankfully, glow-in-the-dark watch and waits five, ten minutes, and he's still out here on the stairway. She must be sound asleep; after all, it's already four o'clock in the morning. The brat, then? He knocks again, this time calling the freeloader's name. "Hey, Conan! Open the door!" He waits another five to ten minutes, but to no avail. So, he's sound asleep, too, huh? Probably stayed up late reading the latest mystery novel, I bet.
He grabs his smartphone from his pocket and tries calling Ran. No answer. Geez, it's hard to believe there'd been a time when she was the one who used to disturb his sleep, either in need of a diaper change or a bottle of milk or comfort from whatever nightmare she had. He then tries calling the brat, tries calling their home number, and even that of the agency below, but to no avail.
For a moment, he considers breaking down the door or that of the agency, but immediately rejects it: repairs would cost money he doesn't have (or doesn't want to spend on such).
Maybe he should spend the night-yes, he knows it's already technically morning-at one of those-he shudders at the thought-stuffy capsule hotels near the train station. But he's incredibly dizzy and tired and sleepy right now; it had already been a struggle to walk back from the beer garden only a block away. (It's a good thing he's not feeling nauseous, though-this is definitely not a good place to puke!) Besides, they should be waking up in a couple of hours, any-oh, wait, today's a Sunday! Who knows what time they'll wake up?! Great, just great. At this rate, Amuro-kun will see him like this-not the impression a great detective wants to make upon his young apprentice. He sighs. Then again, Ran has never been the type to sleep in, not even on Sundays. He can only hope.
He sends both Ran and Conan an e-mail saying, "Open the door!!!" in the hopes at least one of them will see it upon waking up. In resignation, he heaves another sigh and sits next to the door, trying to fight off the sleep from his closing eyelids. If only the cafe downstairs were at least open, he can sit on a decent chair and wait while sipping a nice, hot cup of coffee. . . .
Maybe Ran's punishing me, he thinks. Maybe she's the one who took out his keys. He can't blame her, though; she had always scolded him whenever he came home lile this. He knows he's stuck in a self-destructive cycle, that he's better off not drinking. He won't be stuck here outside in this chilly weather, Ran won't scold him for the umpteenth time and, most of all, he won't have this one hell of a hangover. Maybe Ran will even respect him more, and he'll have a healthier liver to boot! But, no, he won't stop it; he needs his chance at escape. He needs to feel numb, to drive away the ghosts of his piast that mocked him as he lay alone in bed. . . . Almost every single night for the past-
Zzz . . .
Sorry for the sloppiness of this piece; I only got to write this on the day of the deadline itself! *is shot* Having said that, I fully intend to revise and maybe even expand on it before posting it elsewhere, including my own fic journal. Actually, this is a side story for a lengthy and long-overdue birthday fic I'm writing, although I haven't written how this relates to the main story yet; today's prompt inspired the side story first, then I had an idea how to reference this in the main story. Anyway, I do hope you've enjoyed it, and please feel free to tell me how I can improve! Thanks for reading!
Day/Theme: February 6, 2013 - Where I live, everyone is sleeping.
Series: Detective Conan
Character: Mouri Kogorou, with mentions of Mouri Ran, Edogawa Conan, and Amuro Tooru
Rating: PG (for alcohol use and mild profanity)
I made it.
An intoxicated and dishevelled Mouri Kogorou wobbles as he climbs up the dark stairway to his apartment. He turns the doorknob, ready to blurt out the perfunctory "I'm home" despite the parched feeling lingering at the back of his throat, but the door won't open. That's odd, he thinks. Ran's always left the door unlocked whenever I'm out late. Oh, well, guess I'll just use the key, then-
Damn, his keys aren't there in his pants pocket. Suddenly becoming a bit more alert, he checks the other one; still not there. His inner breast pockets? Nope. Must've left it at home, then.
He knocks on the door, calling out his only daughter's name. "Ran! Ran! Open the door; it's me, your father!" He stares at his, thankfully, glow-in-the-dark watch and waits five, ten minutes, and he's still out here on the stairway. She must be sound asleep; after all, it's already four o'clock in the morning. The brat, then? He knocks again, this time calling the freeloader's name. "Hey, Conan! Open the door!" He waits another five to ten minutes, but to no avail. So, he's sound asleep, too, huh? Probably stayed up late reading the latest mystery novel, I bet.
He grabs his smartphone from his pocket and tries calling Ran. No answer. Geez, it's hard to believe there'd been a time when she was the one who used to disturb his sleep, either in need of a diaper change or a bottle of milk or comfort from whatever nightmare she had. He then tries calling the brat, tries calling their home number, and even that of the agency below, but to no avail.
For a moment, he considers breaking down the door or that of the agency, but immediately rejects it: repairs would cost money he doesn't have (or doesn't want to spend on such).
Maybe he should spend the night-yes, he knows it's already technically morning-at one of those-he shudders at the thought-stuffy capsule hotels near the train station. But he's incredibly dizzy and tired and sleepy right now; it had already been a struggle to walk back from the beer garden only a block away. (It's a good thing he's not feeling nauseous, though-this is definitely not a good place to puke!) Besides, they should be waking up in a couple of hours, any-oh, wait, today's a Sunday! Who knows what time they'll wake up?! Great, just great. At this rate, Amuro-kun will see him like this-not the impression a great detective wants to make upon his young apprentice. He sighs. Then again, Ran has never been the type to sleep in, not even on Sundays. He can only hope.
He sends both Ran and Conan an e-mail saying, "Open the door!!!" in the hopes at least one of them will see it upon waking up. In resignation, he heaves another sigh and sits next to the door, trying to fight off the sleep from his closing eyelids. If only the cafe downstairs were at least open, he can sit on a decent chair and wait while sipping a nice, hot cup of coffee. . . .
Maybe Ran's punishing me, he thinks. Maybe she's the one who took out his keys. He can't blame her, though; she had always scolded him whenever he came home lile this. He knows he's stuck in a self-destructive cycle, that he's better off not drinking. He won't be stuck here outside in this chilly weather, Ran won't scold him for the umpteenth time and, most of all, he won't have this one hell of a hangover. Maybe Ran will even respect him more, and he'll have a healthier liver to boot! But, no, he won't stop it; he needs his chance at escape. He needs to feel numb, to drive away the ghosts of his piast that mocked him as he lay alone in bed. . . . Almost every single night for the past-
Zzz . . .
Sorry for the sloppiness of this piece; I only got to write this on the day of the deadline itself! *is shot* Having said that, I fully intend to revise and maybe even expand on it before posting it elsewhere, including my own fic journal. Actually, this is a side story for a lengthy and long-overdue birthday fic I'm writing, although I haven't written how this relates to the main story yet; today's prompt inspired the side story first, then I had an idea how to reference this in the main story. Anyway, I do hope you've enjoyed it, and please feel free to tell me how I can improve! Thanks for reading!