fic-DC/MK: Future Holds A Lion's Heart 4/4
Title: Epilogue 3 (all roads lead to Rome)
Fandom: Detective Conan/Magic Kaito
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,292
Warnings: Fourth and final of the epilogues for The Future Holds A Lion's Heart. Mild Kaishin refrences.
Theme Song: "The Future Holds A Lion's Heart" by Darren Hayes
In a different time and place, Kuroba Kaito finds Pandora.
When I left the warm surroundings
Of my selfish difficult stage
When our eyes first met there was deja-vu
And a feeling I could not shake
I'm just pleased to meet you
~Darren Hayes, "The Future Holds A Lion's Heart"
In a different time and place, Kuroba Kaito finds Pandora. (He can do so again.)
Taking that first step off the plane had been a challenge. Whatever it was that kept him from this place was still strong, if not as all-encompassing as it had been in the years previous. He had almost turned around, nearly refused to get off and demand they take him back the way he had come and try again next year. But the thought of being this close, of finding out what was here and finally being sure gave him the strength to swallow the urge to run, and after that first step, nothing had happened. The skies had not opened up to strike him dead, the ground hadn't shook and crawled away from his touch. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, and for a moment felt extremely foolish for it.
He shook that off firmly. He had lived with his completely irrational fear of Japan for as long as he could remember, which incidentally wasn't very long. The first he had come aware of himself was in a tiny empty apartment in Tuscany four years ago. The local police couldn't find any record of him coming into their country, and couldn't explain where he had come from any more than he himself could. The doctors and psychologists were just as baffled as to what could have caused his memory loss. He'd had no id, no wallet and no luggage. The only thing he appeared to have arrived with was the functional working suit he had been wearing and the prepaid cellphone. The phone had no numbers in it, no registration of where it was bought, and no plan to continue use, only two saved voice messages from the same person. From the intended recipient of the messages, they had assumed that his name was Shinichi.
They assumed, because he did not know. He could tell you how fast a bullet travelled depending on what type of gun it left, he knew how many pints of blood a human could lose before it was fatal, and he had been able to finish every Sherlock Holmes quote put to him, but he could not tell you with any certainty that his name was Shinichi. His head was full of facts and trivia, was fast at math and science equations, and he learned new languages like he'd been speaking them all his life; but of anything personal, anything identifying, there was nothing.
His face, his supposed name, and the fact that the messages they assumed were for him were in Japanese by another Japanese name, had pointed to all his answers being here, in Japan itself. But the first attempt to get him to come almost four years ago had ended in a panic attack of such epic proportions that he'd been hospitalized for days, with weeks’ worth of setback in his mental recovery. Unable to explain it, the doctors could do nothing but continue to work with him and hope something came back on its own.
Nothing had come back, but each passing year and each therapy exercise brought down the insurmountable fear. He really did want to know; who he was, what had happened, why he had found himself in that little apartment in Tuscany all those years ago. Everyone agreed, and somewhere inside Shinichi did too; his answers were in Japan. Probably with the same person who had left him two messages, apologizing for a missed appointment and promising to come by. The sender, Kaito, had claimed to love him. Shinichi wanted to know if that was true.
He shouldered his bag and stepped off concrete onto the crosswalk with the rest of the crowd. Even though he was finally here, there was something inside him that was holding its breath. Getting himself to come had been the hard part, but now that he'd finally conquered that roadblock, he wasn't sure where to go. Japan was a big place, with even more people. Without any idea of what he was hoping to find, he didn't know what to look for, or where to start.
Halfway down this new sidewalk was a small plaza in front of a clock tower. He stopped there for a moment and looked up at it. The clock tower wasn't anywhere as big or grand as the Big Ben, but it had a certain old-time charm for itself that made him smile. It could have easily looked out of place standing next to the newer buildings all around, but refused to do so with its simple lines and functional purpose.
Shinichi's eyes lowered, and across the mill of people there was another pair of eyes that turned and caught his own. They froze, and Shinichi couldn't help but find that interesting. The eyes were blue and set under a wild tangle of brown hair that headed off in whatever flyaway direction it felt like. He blinked, the crowd shifted, and the eyes were gone.
There was an uneasy moment then, like an echo in his thoughts and muscles. He felt like he was supposed to know what happened next, but he couldn't come up with anything, so he just stood still while he tried to decide.
Then he didn't have to anymore, because the person he had spotted across the square had appeared like magic at his elbow. This didn't make him jump like he thought it should, but he did blink at the other man, standing closer than most people would deem polite or comfortable, and staring at him in a fashion he was almost sure was considered rude in this country.
The stranger seemed content to just keep on staring, so he tried to come up with something to say. The only thing that came to mind was, "Hello."
The man blinked and shook his head hard, but it didn't seem to have the effect he'd wanted because he was still plainly staring when he was done. Before he could come up with anything more to say, the stranger asked, in a quiet, breathless voice, "Shinichi?"
He blinked. "I think so. Have we met?"
The other man rocked back on his heels a little, so at least Shinichi could see his whole face without having to lean away and seem rude. "You think so?"
Shinichi shrugged, "Well, I just got here. I haven't had time to look around and see if that is my name." Then, blithely, "I was hoping to find somebody here who would know for sure. Do you know me?"
The stranger stared at him some more, apparently trying to decide what to do. Shinichi knew how hard it was to think when people insisted on interrupting just to rush him, so he left him to it, even though it was hard.
Finally coming to some sort of decision, the stranger smiled at him, with an unsteady edge. "Yeah, I do know you. Do you know me?"
Shinichi eyed him, beginning to smile. "I'm not sure. Do I want to?" And it made him laugh.
He flourished his hands, and out of nowhere (or up his sleeve, long-dormant instincts whispered) he produced a rose and held it out for Shinichi to take. "Kuroba Kaito, magician extraordinaire, at your service." Something inside him started to breathe again.
"Shinichi," he replied, and eyed flower with a raised eyebrow that stated clearly he was not a girl and wasn’t impressed, but nice try. "Pleased to finally meet you."
AN: And that's it for The Future Holds A Lion's Heart. Whether or not Shinichi's memories come back, I'll leave up to you~.
Love it or hate it, tell me what you think!
Fandom: Detective Conan/Magic Kaito
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,292
Warnings: Fourth and final of the epilogues for The Future Holds A Lion's Heart. Mild Kaishin refrences.
Theme Song: "The Future Holds A Lion's Heart" by Darren Hayes
In a different time and place, Kuroba Kaito finds Pandora.
When I left the warm surroundings
Of my selfish difficult stage
When our eyes first met there was deja-vu
And a feeling I could not shake
I'm just pleased to meet you
~Darren Hayes, "The Future Holds A Lion's Heart"
In a different time and place, Kuroba Kaito finds Pandora. (He can do so again.)
Taking that first step off the plane had been a challenge. Whatever it was that kept him from this place was still strong, if not as all-encompassing as it had been in the years previous. He had almost turned around, nearly refused to get off and demand they take him back the way he had come and try again next year. But the thought of being this close, of finding out what was here and finally being sure gave him the strength to swallow the urge to run, and after that first step, nothing had happened. The skies had not opened up to strike him dead, the ground hadn't shook and crawled away from his touch. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, and for a moment felt extremely foolish for it.
He shook that off firmly. He had lived with his completely irrational fear of Japan for as long as he could remember, which incidentally wasn't very long. The first he had come aware of himself was in a tiny empty apartment in Tuscany four years ago. The local police couldn't find any record of him coming into their country, and couldn't explain where he had come from any more than he himself could. The doctors and psychologists were just as baffled as to what could have caused his memory loss. He'd had no id, no wallet and no luggage. The only thing he appeared to have arrived with was the functional working suit he had been wearing and the prepaid cellphone. The phone had no numbers in it, no registration of where it was bought, and no plan to continue use, only two saved voice messages from the same person. From the intended recipient of the messages, they had assumed that his name was Shinichi.
They assumed, because he did not know. He could tell you how fast a bullet travelled depending on what type of gun it left, he knew how many pints of blood a human could lose before it was fatal, and he had been able to finish every Sherlock Holmes quote put to him, but he could not tell you with any certainty that his name was Shinichi. His head was full of facts and trivia, was fast at math and science equations, and he learned new languages like he'd been speaking them all his life; but of anything personal, anything identifying, there was nothing.
His face, his supposed name, and the fact that the messages they assumed were for him were in Japanese by another Japanese name, had pointed to all his answers being here, in Japan itself. But the first attempt to get him to come almost four years ago had ended in a panic attack of such epic proportions that he'd been hospitalized for days, with weeks’ worth of setback in his mental recovery. Unable to explain it, the doctors could do nothing but continue to work with him and hope something came back on its own.
Nothing had come back, but each passing year and each therapy exercise brought down the insurmountable fear. He really did want to know; who he was, what had happened, why he had found himself in that little apartment in Tuscany all those years ago. Everyone agreed, and somewhere inside Shinichi did too; his answers were in Japan. Probably with the same person who had left him two messages, apologizing for a missed appointment and promising to come by. The sender, Kaito, had claimed to love him. Shinichi wanted to know if that was true.
He shouldered his bag and stepped off concrete onto the crosswalk with the rest of the crowd. Even though he was finally here, there was something inside him that was holding its breath. Getting himself to come had been the hard part, but now that he'd finally conquered that roadblock, he wasn't sure where to go. Japan was a big place, with even more people. Without any idea of what he was hoping to find, he didn't know what to look for, or where to start.
Halfway down this new sidewalk was a small plaza in front of a clock tower. He stopped there for a moment and looked up at it. The clock tower wasn't anywhere as big or grand as the Big Ben, but it had a certain old-time charm for itself that made him smile. It could have easily looked out of place standing next to the newer buildings all around, but refused to do so with its simple lines and functional purpose.
Shinichi's eyes lowered, and across the mill of people there was another pair of eyes that turned and caught his own. They froze, and Shinichi couldn't help but find that interesting. The eyes were blue and set under a wild tangle of brown hair that headed off in whatever flyaway direction it felt like. He blinked, the crowd shifted, and the eyes were gone.
There was an uneasy moment then, like an echo in his thoughts and muscles. He felt like he was supposed to know what happened next, but he couldn't come up with anything, so he just stood still while he tried to decide.
Then he didn't have to anymore, because the person he had spotted across the square had appeared like magic at his elbow. This didn't make him jump like he thought it should, but he did blink at the other man, standing closer than most people would deem polite or comfortable, and staring at him in a fashion he was almost sure was considered rude in this country.
The stranger seemed content to just keep on staring, so he tried to come up with something to say. The only thing that came to mind was, "Hello."
The man blinked and shook his head hard, but it didn't seem to have the effect he'd wanted because he was still plainly staring when he was done. Before he could come up with anything more to say, the stranger asked, in a quiet, breathless voice, "Shinichi?"
He blinked. "I think so. Have we met?"
The other man rocked back on his heels a little, so at least Shinichi could see his whole face without having to lean away and seem rude. "You think so?"
Shinichi shrugged, "Well, I just got here. I haven't had time to look around and see if that is my name." Then, blithely, "I was hoping to find somebody here who would know for sure. Do you know me?"
The stranger stared at him some more, apparently trying to decide what to do. Shinichi knew how hard it was to think when people insisted on interrupting just to rush him, so he left him to it, even though it was hard.
Finally coming to some sort of decision, the stranger smiled at him, with an unsteady edge. "Yeah, I do know you. Do you know me?"
Shinichi eyed him, beginning to smile. "I'm not sure. Do I want to?" And it made him laugh.
He flourished his hands, and out of nowhere (or up his sleeve, long-dormant instincts whispered) he produced a rose and held it out for Shinichi to take. "Kuroba Kaito, magician extraordinaire, at your service." Something inside him started to breathe again.
"Shinichi," he replied, and eyed flower with a raised eyebrow that stated clearly he was not a girl and wasn’t impressed, but nice try. "Pleased to finally meet you."
AN: And that's it for The Future Holds A Lion's Heart. Whether or not Shinichi's memories come back, I'll leave up to you~.
Love it or hate it, tell me what you think!