30_memories: Once Thought, Never Was
Fandom: Detective Conan
Title: Once Thought, Never Was
Author: jeva_chan
Theme: #19 - Please forget about me...
Pairing: Kudo Shinichi/Mouri Ran
Size: 5,298 words
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers for Detective Conan? Eh, not too many. CHEESINESS and CLICHED should so totally be a warning, though.
Disclaimer: All things Detective Conan belong to one, Aoyama Gosho. I don't claim to have created any of these characters...just the tormenting situations I put them in. :D
Summary: She was always running behind him.
Notes: Yes, another introspective piece. I should be shot. I know. It's long-winded and entirely unnecessary. Hey, I just work with what the plunnies give me. *walks off*
PS - I don't write ShinRan often enough. Also, I write Shinichi more than I do Ran and thus... this fic. Is in Ran's POV. ... why? *goes to hunt the plunnies*
PPS - Stupid me forgot to take the lock off earlier.
She was always running behind him.
In everything from intelligence to altheticism, Shinichi had always been her better, had always been more than willing to rub her nose in these facts. It wasn't until Shinichi decided to completely dedicate himself the role of a detective that she finally got the edge on him in karate. Even then, he could still out-manuver her if his mind was up to the task.
That was just the kind of person Shinichi was. One of those people who were born to a fate far more grand than anything Ran could think of her own destiny leading her toward. Still, she struggled to stay with him, next to him, and he'd let her, helped her to keep her place at his side. Even if he was often thoughtless about what effect certain comments to her would have, he was kind and sincere and honest to a fault. If he ever said anything that sounded the least bit cruel, he didn't mean it as such and was quick to remedy his phrasing.
However, even with him more than willing to have her at his side, Shinichi was still always at least a step in front of her, boldly going forward, so sure of himself that he never once thought to stop and look back until he suddenly realized she'd gone quiet. Then he would pause and wait for her, inwardly patient, she knew, but outwardly harping on how slow she was and how difficult it was for him to slow himself to her speed.
That was the sort of comment that was honest to a fault but not in the way that Shinichi may have meant. Still, it would hurt everytime Ran heard this from him. She didn't allow herself to show the blow this truth would deliver her. Sometimes, his eyes and mind were just too sharp and he knew right away that he had thoughtlessly implied, yet again, that he didn't want her around and would prefer that he go on ahead without her--because it was quicker and less trying. Apologies helped little, even though it was always amusing to see Shinichi awkwardly attempt to say he was sorry without actually having to say the words.
She'd always forgive him, though. She couldn't blame him, really. She understood well enough that, in a lot of ways, he was right about this arrangement and knew that it couldn't always last. Shinichi was just someone too brilliant for her to keep up with. Someone who was sure to outgrow her and continue on his path that seemed so long and far out that Ran doubted she would even catch up again if she got more than a step behind him.
But she wanted to be there with him. She wanted to be at his side. It was where she felt she belonged most. At his side, listening him go on about one case or another, allowing him to test new riddles and logic puzzles on her, even when she knew he'd eventually have to give her the what should have been painfully obvious answer.
And he never said that he didn't want her there. In fact, by always stopping and waiting for her, by patiently letting her struggle through a puzzle that he'd solved within seconds of hearing it until she decided she couldn't solve it, by always letting her hear about his cases, it was his way of saying that he wanted her there. So she kept telling herself hopefully. Because there were times she was forgotten, naturally. Sometimes it was because of a case, sometimes because he'd just had investigate some inane detail about this and that, and sometimes, and more frequently as they got older, it was to talk with these people who seemed to flock to him. Men and women of all sorts of ages, asking for help with this and that.
And in those moments, Ran was more than sure that she was right in the fact that he would someday forget about her.
This truth was painfully realized the night he ran off to investigate something after solving yet another gruesome murder--this time on a rollercoaster. She had tried to follow him, but he was too quick. Her shoelacing breaking just as she started after him had sent shivers down here spine, not knowing what to think but suddenly wishing she could be at his side a that moment. More than anything, she wanted to be with him that night, but it was too late.
In a way, it was fortuitous that Shinichi didn't show up to school for the next couple of days. Otherwise, she would have never gone over Shinichi's house to look for him and find, instead, a small boy with the odd name of Edogawa Conan. In a way, Conan was a relief to have around during that time when she still attended class, hoping to see that seat filled but only seeing that was empty day after day, seemingly without end.
She couldn't remember when the first phone call was made, but before that, she would always distinctly remember that night when all she saw was Shinichi's shadow and only heard Shinichi's voice, reassuring her and telling her that there was some big case that he was working on. And then he'd left, and she wasn't able to find him. Almost as if it had just been a figment of her imagination, he had disappeared from her life.
She had thought that was it and had cried to herself when she went home that night, fearing that it truly was the end and that he would never come back and she would never be able to stay by his side. Fearing that he was already too far gone for her to reach anymore. It was almost a miracle, then, when the first phone came.
Shinichi didn't have to call her, or even have any sort of contact with her. He could have gone on without her, solved his cases, and done whatever else his life led him to. But he'd called. Though he was so far ahead of her and well out of his reach, he still waited for her, still called to her and told her to hurry up before she was left behind. Because he wanted her there. By his side. More than anything.
For a while, Ran was more than happy just to have his voice on the phone. She knew that he never contacted anyone else besides maybe the police to give them "anonymous" tips. An odd thing since Shinichi had never been one to hide from the praise people would give him for solving such difficult cases. It was enough to know that he still wanted her with him, in any way she could.
But she'd begun to notice the difference in this Shinichi, the Shinichi who'd gone ahead without her and who was almost a ghost except for the fact that he would call her and talk to her. This Shinichi was tired more often than not, and almost always, he allowed the conversation to stay on her side of things rather than his. He never talked about his cases, except when avoiding the question of when he was going to be able to come home. And though he would joke and laugh with her as they always used to, Ran was almost sure she heard some other sound than laughter in his voice--an almost pained tone that never seemed to leave, no matter how sincere his laugh sounded.
Hearing these differences in her childhood friend and not being able to do anything about it made the whole situation even worse. Not only that, but sometimes she would have moments where she would suspect something more going on. Sometimes, she thought to herself, the disappearance of Shinichi and the appearance of Conan was too perfect. Too well-timed. But several times, her theory was disproved. The times when she was able to see the almost-phantom Shinichi had become in her mind becoming real, standing beside Conan as if those thoughts of hers were mere flights of fancy.
All too soon, he would disappear soon after reappearing. A couple of times, it was revealed to be a different person entirely in disguise--like Hattori Heiji had been just before Shinichi had revealed himself as the Black Knight. And sometimes, Conan would have something to say about the Shinichi-niisan that was around--once even going as far as to exlaim that Shinichi was really Kaitou Kid in disguise. It was enough to make Ran begin to doubt her sanity. Shinichi would come and go, but mostly, he was gone and away and out of reach except for the phone, which she clung to more and more with each passing day that he was not able to return home so they could go back to being how they were.
She knew, however, in her heart that they were beyond being able to go back to how things were. They'd both changed in several ways. Though Ran had always had to take care of her father, having Conan around made her focus more on her responsibilites as an adult, setting a good example for him and providing for him as any mother would their own child. She'd gone from being a person who always had an almost punching bag in Shinichi, who she could release all her frustration and anger to. Now, Shinichi wasn't there and she had to find more and more ways to keep herself level-headed and calm--admittedly, keeping track of Conan during cases was a good way to blow off some steam.
Shinichi... had by far changed the most. For one thing, she'd noticed the time when he'd return as the Black Knight in their school play, he had dropped most of his dramatizing of solving cases, making them as quick as possible while also walking over all the steps and clues that had led him to the conclusion in a way so that others would understand. Not only that, but when he'd passed out right after solving the case, as horrifying and shocking as that was, it made Ran realize just how tired and stressed he really was. He tried so hard to act as he normally would, but it was as if he was uncomfortable in his own skin. Around Conan's friends, he was unsure of himself and yet strangely calmer than he was around his own friends in high school, whom he was most tense around, seeming to not know any of them anymore nor just how to interact with them.
Shinichi had always had problems with actually fitting in with people, but he was one of those people whose natural charisma manifested itself with age. As he'd grown up, he'd become more and more sure of himself. Arrogant, almost. But at that time, Shinichi seemed to be back to what he had been when they were moving from elementary to Jr. High. Awkward and perhaps timid, though he tried to hide it as best as he could. Others might not have noticed, but Ran certainly had.
Not only were these things that would prevent them from ever really returning to what they had been, but there was a noticable distance between them. One that she knew that he felt and wanted to breach it as much as she did, but neither were able. Maybe they would have been able to that second night Shinichi was back home, but in the middle of dinner, there had been a murder. And he had tried so hard to ignore it, to keep his mind there and with her and not on some case. But Ran knew him too well. Even if he might have been running himself ragged chasing after whatever these cases were that kept him away, he couldn't allow a murder not be solved with him around.
How was she to know that he'd be taken from one case to another--one of the ones that had kept him away for so long? And to tell her this through Conan...
Recently, many months after that evening, it was all Ran could do to keep from crying while talking with him on the phone. And it was probably all he could to keep his voice steady and seemingly sure of itself as weariness and that pain he tried to hide grew greater than greater.
Ran was dreading for the day when one of them would declare that this sort of torment was enough, that they couldn't do this anymore. No matter how much they wanted to be by each other's side, it just wasn't possible. Not with how long he'd been gone and not with how far she'd fallen behind.
The night that those words were finally spoken, it was cold. An early cold front in the autumn that made her shout at Conan to put on another sweater as he ran out to go spend the night with Agasa-hakase. She had been hoping for a phone call from Shinichi for well over two weeks now, and even though she should have been used to these long periods of silence, this time unnerved her more than anything. Her mind kept playing tricks on her, having her think of some of the most horrible ways a detective could be caught and tormented and killed.
When the phone rang, she pounced on it and felt such a powerful sense of relief that she was already crying not five seconds into their hellos. Shinichi heard her sniffles and verbally winced, making a sound that couldn't mistakened for anything else before he started to apologize for not calling and for worrying her--the usual outpouring of guilt. It was no longer amusing to hear Shinichi apologize, actually saying the words and meaning them more than anything. It hurt. It hurt so much to hear him say those words over and over again because she knew how much it hurt him to say them and know that there was nothing else he could do but say those words over and over again.
She hadn't meant for those words to slip out, but they came unbidden to her lips as she cried on the phone for perhaps the hundredth time since this whole situation began. "Shinichi, I can't do this anymore!"
Immediately after speaking them, Ran wished more than anything that she could take them back, to tell Shinichi that she didn't mean it. But even as silence reigned on the other side of the phone line, she couldn't convince herself that that was completely true.
She didn't want to do this anymore. But she had to, if she wanted to keep what little of Shinichi that she had left--his voice over the telephone. That little piece of him that was slowly becoming the one thing she most dreaded and hoped for--because it meant that he was still so far away and wasn't coming back anytime soon, because she was still able to at least feel like she had some part in his life. Wasn't she still, after all, the only person besides the police that he would contact?
Still, even though she was uncertain as to whether or not she truly meant those words, she tearfully clutched the phone in her hands and stammered out, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Shinichi! I didn't mean--I don't want to--"
She was lucky her voice chose to give out before he spoke. Otherwise, his words would have delivered more of a wound than they did.
"Ran. Don't. I'm sorry... I shouldn't--I shouldn't put you through all of this." His voice was weaker than she had ever heard it before. A strained almost-whisper that sent more and more barbs of guilt to her heart which was quickly becoming crushed under the weight of those words she should have never spoken.
She tried to say something to him, anything to reassure him that she was sorry and never meant to imply anything of the sort--she was the one who chose to keep taking Shinichi back, to allow him to continue this only way of communicating they had now. It wasn't only his fault, she wanted to insist, but her throat had closed up on her and she fought back a sob which would only make matters worse.
"Shinichi..." she managed to get out right before he continued in a way that suggested he was trying his best to keep it together--if only for her sake, "I know... I know how hard all of this is for you, and I shouldn't--shouldn't keep you hanging on like this... on the promise that I'll be back soon...
"The truth is," he said before pausing for a moment. She could hear him take in an unsteady breath and tried her best not to make a sound, afraid that even the smallest of noises would shatter whatever strength Shinichi was able to summon to say those next few words.
"The truth is, Ran," he continued, voice cracking slightly at the edges but persevering through it to finish, "I don't know... when I'll be able to come home--if I can even..."
The words 'come back' were left unsaid, falling silent as Shinichi's voice finally broke and Ran's tears began anew.
"Because of those cases?" she asked weakly, unable to be upset or angry at their situation anymore. Just... tired and broken.
She wished she could see him, because even if she told herself that she could imagine his facial expressions as he spoke, the truth was that it was getting harder and harder to remember his face. Now, as she listened to him speak over the phone, she could only imagine someone obscured by shadow shaking their head sullenly. "It's not that," he said quietly.
Ran closed her eyes, clutching her phone tighter in her hands. "Then it's not the cases?" she asked, feeling as if her heart were put into a vice.
"No!" Shinichi suddenly shouted, seeming alarmed for some reason. "I didn't mean--no, I mean that... Ran. There's never been... cases."
She opened her eyes and rubbed at her eyes with a hand that she freed from its grip on the phone. "I don't... I don't understand..." she said as if she were a lost child, hoping that someone would find her and explain things to her.
Shinichi, as always, was patient with explaining, though this time there was more than just the usual air of a teacher explaining something to a student. There was that heavy weariness, that pressing guilt, and something new in addition to the pain that she always heard from him now. "It's... it's complicated, but... all of these cases that I said I've been working? They're all--each case is just one part... of the same case."
Almost immediately, Ran experienced a feeling very much similar to the one she would get whenever Shinichi would explain a riddle or a puzzle--a sensation of knowing that she should have realized, should have seen it with all the clues that had been in place. That Shinichi would be gone so long, that he would be so sparce in his communication with anyone, that he would keep his involvement in any crime-solving underwraps... why hadn't she seen it sooner? Shouldn't she have known, even without Shinichi mentioning these cases during their conversations...
Cold dread seemed to seep into her skin there as all the pieces suddenly came together to form a picture that was hard to ignore. The answer was so simple. "O-oh... Shinichi," she said, trying to find something, anything at all to say as her mind tried to rap itself around this new information. "Shinichi, you--you haven't..." She trailed off before trying again, "You've been gone so long because..."
"I haven't been able to get them," he affirmed wearily, almost dispassionately. "Each time I seem to be getting closer and closer... they slip through my fingers. A lead turns into a dead-end. A source is killed of before I can get to them in time. Just... everything I run into lately... everything has their fingerprints on it. Has their signature written in blood--and..." He took a deep breath, an action that finally enabled Ran to put a name to that new emotion that was steadily growing in Shinichi's voice.
Fear.
"It's dangerous, Ran," he said quietly, a guilty tone to his voice letting her know that he would have continued the ruse of everything being fine if none of this had come up. "These people... their reach is a lot farther and deeper than anyone would have thought possible. Worse--worse than anything I've heard about. And I'm not the only one on the case--probably just the only one not getting paid."
A weak, ironic laugh escaped him, and Ran's eyes widened in horror.
"Then why are you still there?" she demanded, suddenly more afraid for Shinichi than she had ever been in the past. "If it's that dangerous--"
"I'm already a target."
Her voice caught in her throat, but she managed to ask in a whisper, "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
"Because I wanted to protect you," he answered just as quietly. "I didn't want--I didn't want any of this to affect you, too, but I know--I know that it's still been hard for you, and I probably would have never told you but..." His voice trailed off for a moment and all Ran could hear during that time of silence was his almost ragged breathing before he cleared his throat and continued, almost hesitantly--scared and hurt, "Ran, I know this isn't the best solution or arrangement. It--it hurts more than it should, you know? A-and... Ran, I swear. I never wanted to hurt you. I--I just...
"If... you really want, Ran," he continued in a voice that seemed to grow weaker and weaker with each passing second, "we... we don't have to do this. These phone calls... you've been crying more and more since this all started and I never wanted that--I swear, I'd do anything I could if I could to not let you cry but... if it's this contact with me that's causing it--"
Again, Ran was struck by the feeling of her heart tightening painfully. "S-Shinichi--" she weakly tried to object.
His voice broke through her own, his words faster and harder than before, as if he thought it would be better to have it said and done with, "Please, Ran, please... if you really can't--can't take all of this... I wouldn't blame you. At all. I know how hard it can be, and... please, Ran, if it'll make you stop crying...
"Just forget--forget about me..."
The heavy finality in those words made Ran close her eyes just as they began to blur with tears once again. "Shinichi, no--" she tried to say but it probably came out more garbled than she would like as her voice fought to get passed the lump in her throat.
Shinichi just continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I mean," he said in an ironic voice that was more brittle than anything Ran had ever heard from him, "it's not as though I can't handle myself. I've made it this far, haven't I? And... well, if I can manage to solve this case, I'll be able to go home and--"
"Do you really want me to forget you?" Ran cried out, putting her free hand to her forehead before allowing it to wipe away her tears. "Do you really want me to say that I hate this so much I wish I never knew you?"
The silence on the other side was enough to let her know what the answer was, but Shinichi said it anyway, voice more choked than before, "No, Ran. God, no. I don't want--I don't want to let you... I don't want to lose you, too. After losing everything else... no, Ran--no. You--you're all I--"
He stopped himself from saying the words, but Ran understood him well enough and sniffed as she brushed her hand over her eyes again. "Then I won't," she said as firmly as she could. "I couldn't--I can't forget you, Shinichi..."
"Time erases a lot of things," he argued quietly.
She closed her eyes and tried to keep herself calm as she then retorted, "Then I'll just--just have to keep remembering. Looking at past photos, talking about you with others... hearing your voice on the phone once in a while."
She sniffed again, agitatedly rubbing her eyes now, wishing she could stop crying just as Shinichi murmured in her ear, "I don't want something selfish like this if it's going to hurt you, Ran."
She gave a small, genuine laugh. "Of course it hurts, idiot," she said in fond manner. "What I said... I didn't mean it, Shinichi. I--I just miss you... and I want you to come home, b-but after what you told me..."
She bit her lip and sniffed again.
"I'm sorry," he said again, more guilt-ridden than ever before. "I'm so sorry, Ran. You shouldn't wait for me. You should--"
"I should call you an idiot," Ran interrupted with a weak laugh.
"You should," he agreed without any humor at all. An almost sorrowful tone to his weary voice now. "But you should also just move on, Ran. We both know that... that it might be years yet until I can finally come home. You shouldn't have to wait for someone like that... who might never make it back, and--I don't know... sometimes, I think it would be better if you'd never answer my calls again--if it means that you'll keep going on..."
Ran's brow furrowed in befuddlement. "Shinichi. Do you really think I can leave you behind?"
It went against everything she had believed about Shinichi. That Shinichi would have the same fear that she herself had seemed almost beyond ridiculous. Shinichi was not the kind of person who would get left behind easily. Considering the fact that he was front row and center of this... huge case that probably had people of the bigger-leagued investigations, it was utterly laughable that he could think that someone like her could get ahead and then past him.
If anything, she thought to herself, he was the one who'd already gone so far past her...
Shinichi's response also sounded somewhat confused, as if he didn't realize what he was saying and was trying to figure it out himself, "Well... I mean... look at where we are now. You're almost through high school, already. Only half a year left? A little longer? Meanwhile, I haven't been to a single class since at least the second year of high school, and... well, that's not to mention the fact that I've gotten no where on a case while you and your father and that kid have gone through case after case--"
"It's hardly the same thing!" she exclaimed, and very nearly scowled at the phone before she realized what she was doing and laughed to herself. "Shinichi, you idiot. As if I could ever get ahead of you in any area. You know I don't solve any of those crimes and you know that if you put your mind to it, you could graduate high school along with me--"
"If I can get home before then," he muttered, seemingly not knowing he was speaking aloud.
"You will," Ran stated firmly and felt almost as if she could believe it herself, even when everything he had said seemed to go against that belief. She added quietly, "I have faith in you, Shinichi."
Again, there was a long pause from the other side before she heard him heave another sigh--one that she couldn't properly label with one emotion or another. "Thanks, Ran..." he said quietly and added with utter honesty and sincerity, "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Ran closed her eyes allowed herself a moment to let herself think on what might happen if Shinichi were to be cut off from her, from possibly the only person he could trust at that moment in time. Without having someone to confide with and unwind with like he did whenever he called... he would probably be more than just burned out at this point. He would probably have been...
She allowed one final tear to escape before she whispered back, "Me too, Shinichi... and I don't think I ever want to know."
She'd always been at his side, was always there since they were kids to listen to him chatter, to learn from his genius in so many different fields of study, to compete against him in physical areas until he grew bored of them. It had always been that way, even when he was God-knows-where working on a seemingly impossible case, it was still that way. All she had, of course, was his voice. But in return, she came to realize, she offered him more than just a voice.
The one reason why Shinichi kept turning back and waiting for her, the reason why he would always call her up just when she was starting to believe that everything had gone wrong and she might never hear from him again, was because she was his only link back home. The only person who knew Shinichi for as long as he could remember. It was the one thing that kept that distance between them from growing infinitely larger as time went on and as things went from bad to worse.
But even if it grew to be a heavy burden, Ran swore to herself that she would never allow Shinichi to leave her behind--nor would she do the same to him. So she continued to wait, continued to communicate with the only way that they could--via the telephone. Sometimes, she wished she could do more to help him, but he would insist that she was doing enough by being there and waiting for him, even though he insisted more than once after those words were said that it would be best for her to move on, for her to leave him behind.
Ran merely replied to him each time that he was speaking of an impossibility. She could never doing something as horrible as leave behind her heart, which Shinichi would always hold--for better or for worse. Someday, they kept telling to each other wryly, things would get back to normal--or at least as normal as things could get. And this was enough for them. Until that day.
It had to be. If only so they could keep going forward together, at each others' side.
Title: Once Thought, Never Was
Author: jeva_chan
Theme: #19 - Please forget about me...
Pairing: Kudo Shinichi/Mouri Ran
Size: 5,298 words
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers for Detective Conan? Eh, not too many. CHEESINESS and CLICHED should so totally be a warning, though.
Disclaimer: All things Detective Conan belong to one, Aoyama Gosho. I don't claim to have created any of these characters...just the tormenting situations I put them in. :D
Summary: She was always running behind him.
Notes: Yes, another introspective piece. I should be shot. I know. It's long-winded and entirely unnecessary. Hey, I just work with what the plunnies give me. *walks off*
PS - I don't write ShinRan often enough. Also, I write Shinichi more than I do Ran and thus... this fic. Is in Ran's POV. ... why? *goes to hunt the plunnies*
PPS - Stupid me forgot to take the lock off earlier.
She was always running behind him.
In everything from intelligence to altheticism, Shinichi had always been her better, had always been more than willing to rub her nose in these facts. It wasn't until Shinichi decided to completely dedicate himself the role of a detective that she finally got the edge on him in karate. Even then, he could still out-manuver her if his mind was up to the task.
That was just the kind of person Shinichi was. One of those people who were born to a fate far more grand than anything Ran could think of her own destiny leading her toward. Still, she struggled to stay with him, next to him, and he'd let her, helped her to keep her place at his side. Even if he was often thoughtless about what effect certain comments to her would have, he was kind and sincere and honest to a fault. If he ever said anything that sounded the least bit cruel, he didn't mean it as such and was quick to remedy his phrasing.
However, even with him more than willing to have her at his side, Shinichi was still always at least a step in front of her, boldly going forward, so sure of himself that he never once thought to stop and look back until he suddenly realized she'd gone quiet. Then he would pause and wait for her, inwardly patient, she knew, but outwardly harping on how slow she was and how difficult it was for him to slow himself to her speed.
That was the sort of comment that was honest to a fault but not in the way that Shinichi may have meant. Still, it would hurt everytime Ran heard this from him. She didn't allow herself to show the blow this truth would deliver her. Sometimes, his eyes and mind were just too sharp and he knew right away that he had thoughtlessly implied, yet again, that he didn't want her around and would prefer that he go on ahead without her--because it was quicker and less trying. Apologies helped little, even though it was always amusing to see Shinichi awkwardly attempt to say he was sorry without actually having to say the words.
She'd always forgive him, though. She couldn't blame him, really. She understood well enough that, in a lot of ways, he was right about this arrangement and knew that it couldn't always last. Shinichi was just someone too brilliant for her to keep up with. Someone who was sure to outgrow her and continue on his path that seemed so long and far out that Ran doubted she would even catch up again if she got more than a step behind him.
But she wanted to be there with him. She wanted to be at his side. It was where she felt she belonged most. At his side, listening him go on about one case or another, allowing him to test new riddles and logic puzzles on her, even when she knew he'd eventually have to give her the what should have been painfully obvious answer.
And he never said that he didn't want her there. In fact, by always stopping and waiting for her, by patiently letting her struggle through a puzzle that he'd solved within seconds of hearing it until she decided she couldn't solve it, by always letting her hear about his cases, it was his way of saying that he wanted her there. So she kept telling herself hopefully. Because there were times she was forgotten, naturally. Sometimes it was because of a case, sometimes because he'd just had investigate some inane detail about this and that, and sometimes, and more frequently as they got older, it was to talk with these people who seemed to flock to him. Men and women of all sorts of ages, asking for help with this and that.
And in those moments, Ran was more than sure that she was right in the fact that he would someday forget about her.
This truth was painfully realized the night he ran off to investigate something after solving yet another gruesome murder--this time on a rollercoaster. She had tried to follow him, but he was too quick. Her shoelacing breaking just as she started after him had sent shivers down here spine, not knowing what to think but suddenly wishing she could be at his side a that moment. More than anything, she wanted to be with him that night, but it was too late.
In a way, it was fortuitous that Shinichi didn't show up to school for the next couple of days. Otherwise, she would have never gone over Shinichi's house to look for him and find, instead, a small boy with the odd name of Edogawa Conan. In a way, Conan was a relief to have around during that time when she still attended class, hoping to see that seat filled but only seeing that was empty day after day, seemingly without end.
She couldn't remember when the first phone call was made, but before that, she would always distinctly remember that night when all she saw was Shinichi's shadow and only heard Shinichi's voice, reassuring her and telling her that there was some big case that he was working on. And then he'd left, and she wasn't able to find him. Almost as if it had just been a figment of her imagination, he had disappeared from her life.
She had thought that was it and had cried to herself when she went home that night, fearing that it truly was the end and that he would never come back and she would never be able to stay by his side. Fearing that he was already too far gone for her to reach anymore. It was almost a miracle, then, when the first phone came.
Shinichi didn't have to call her, or even have any sort of contact with her. He could have gone on without her, solved his cases, and done whatever else his life led him to. But he'd called. Though he was so far ahead of her and well out of his reach, he still waited for her, still called to her and told her to hurry up before she was left behind. Because he wanted her there. By his side. More than anything.
For a while, Ran was more than happy just to have his voice on the phone. She knew that he never contacted anyone else besides maybe the police to give them "anonymous" tips. An odd thing since Shinichi had never been one to hide from the praise people would give him for solving such difficult cases. It was enough to know that he still wanted her with him, in any way she could.
But she'd begun to notice the difference in this Shinichi, the Shinichi who'd gone ahead without her and who was almost a ghost except for the fact that he would call her and talk to her. This Shinichi was tired more often than not, and almost always, he allowed the conversation to stay on her side of things rather than his. He never talked about his cases, except when avoiding the question of when he was going to be able to come home. And though he would joke and laugh with her as they always used to, Ran was almost sure she heard some other sound than laughter in his voice--an almost pained tone that never seemed to leave, no matter how sincere his laugh sounded.
Hearing these differences in her childhood friend and not being able to do anything about it made the whole situation even worse. Not only that, but sometimes she would have moments where she would suspect something more going on. Sometimes, she thought to herself, the disappearance of Shinichi and the appearance of Conan was too perfect. Too well-timed. But several times, her theory was disproved. The times when she was able to see the almost-phantom Shinichi had become in her mind becoming real, standing beside Conan as if those thoughts of hers were mere flights of fancy.
All too soon, he would disappear soon after reappearing. A couple of times, it was revealed to be a different person entirely in disguise--like Hattori Heiji had been just before Shinichi had revealed himself as the Black Knight. And sometimes, Conan would have something to say about the Shinichi-niisan that was around--once even going as far as to exlaim that Shinichi was really Kaitou Kid in disguise. It was enough to make Ran begin to doubt her sanity. Shinichi would come and go, but mostly, he was gone and away and out of reach except for the phone, which she clung to more and more with each passing day that he was not able to return home so they could go back to being how they were.
She knew, however, in her heart that they were beyond being able to go back to how things were. They'd both changed in several ways. Though Ran had always had to take care of her father, having Conan around made her focus more on her responsibilites as an adult, setting a good example for him and providing for him as any mother would their own child. She'd gone from being a person who always had an almost punching bag in Shinichi, who she could release all her frustration and anger to. Now, Shinichi wasn't there and she had to find more and more ways to keep herself level-headed and calm--admittedly, keeping track of Conan during cases was a good way to blow off some steam.
Shinichi... had by far changed the most. For one thing, she'd noticed the time when he'd return as the Black Knight in their school play, he had dropped most of his dramatizing of solving cases, making them as quick as possible while also walking over all the steps and clues that had led him to the conclusion in a way so that others would understand. Not only that, but when he'd passed out right after solving the case, as horrifying and shocking as that was, it made Ran realize just how tired and stressed he really was. He tried so hard to act as he normally would, but it was as if he was uncomfortable in his own skin. Around Conan's friends, he was unsure of himself and yet strangely calmer than he was around his own friends in high school, whom he was most tense around, seeming to not know any of them anymore nor just how to interact with them.
Shinichi had always had problems with actually fitting in with people, but he was one of those people whose natural charisma manifested itself with age. As he'd grown up, he'd become more and more sure of himself. Arrogant, almost. But at that time, Shinichi seemed to be back to what he had been when they were moving from elementary to Jr. High. Awkward and perhaps timid, though he tried to hide it as best as he could. Others might not have noticed, but Ran certainly had.
Not only were these things that would prevent them from ever really returning to what they had been, but there was a noticable distance between them. One that she knew that he felt and wanted to breach it as much as she did, but neither were able. Maybe they would have been able to that second night Shinichi was back home, but in the middle of dinner, there had been a murder. And he had tried so hard to ignore it, to keep his mind there and with her and not on some case. But Ran knew him too well. Even if he might have been running himself ragged chasing after whatever these cases were that kept him away, he couldn't allow a murder not be solved with him around.
How was she to know that he'd be taken from one case to another--one of the ones that had kept him away for so long? And to tell her this through Conan...
Recently, many months after that evening, it was all Ran could do to keep from crying while talking with him on the phone. And it was probably all he could to keep his voice steady and seemingly sure of itself as weariness and that pain he tried to hide grew greater than greater.
Ran was dreading for the day when one of them would declare that this sort of torment was enough, that they couldn't do this anymore. No matter how much they wanted to be by each other's side, it just wasn't possible. Not with how long he'd been gone and not with how far she'd fallen behind.
The night that those words were finally spoken, it was cold. An early cold front in the autumn that made her shout at Conan to put on another sweater as he ran out to go spend the night with Agasa-hakase. She had been hoping for a phone call from Shinichi for well over two weeks now, and even though she should have been used to these long periods of silence, this time unnerved her more than anything. Her mind kept playing tricks on her, having her think of some of the most horrible ways a detective could be caught and tormented and killed.
When the phone rang, she pounced on it and felt such a powerful sense of relief that she was already crying not five seconds into their hellos. Shinichi heard her sniffles and verbally winced, making a sound that couldn't mistakened for anything else before he started to apologize for not calling and for worrying her--the usual outpouring of guilt. It was no longer amusing to hear Shinichi apologize, actually saying the words and meaning them more than anything. It hurt. It hurt so much to hear him say those words over and over again because she knew how much it hurt him to say them and know that there was nothing else he could do but say those words over and over again.
She hadn't meant for those words to slip out, but they came unbidden to her lips as she cried on the phone for perhaps the hundredth time since this whole situation began. "Shinichi, I can't do this anymore!"
Immediately after speaking them, Ran wished more than anything that she could take them back, to tell Shinichi that she didn't mean it. But even as silence reigned on the other side of the phone line, she couldn't convince herself that that was completely true.
She didn't want to do this anymore. But she had to, if she wanted to keep what little of Shinichi that she had left--his voice over the telephone. That little piece of him that was slowly becoming the one thing she most dreaded and hoped for--because it meant that he was still so far away and wasn't coming back anytime soon, because she was still able to at least feel like she had some part in his life. Wasn't she still, after all, the only person besides the police that he would contact?
Still, even though she was uncertain as to whether or not she truly meant those words, she tearfully clutched the phone in her hands and stammered out, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Shinichi! I didn't mean--I don't want to--"
She was lucky her voice chose to give out before he spoke. Otherwise, his words would have delivered more of a wound than they did.
"Ran. Don't. I'm sorry... I shouldn't--I shouldn't put you through all of this." His voice was weaker than she had ever heard it before. A strained almost-whisper that sent more and more barbs of guilt to her heart which was quickly becoming crushed under the weight of those words she should have never spoken.
She tried to say something to him, anything to reassure him that she was sorry and never meant to imply anything of the sort--she was the one who chose to keep taking Shinichi back, to allow him to continue this only way of communicating they had now. It wasn't only his fault, she wanted to insist, but her throat had closed up on her and she fought back a sob which would only make matters worse.
"Shinichi..." she managed to get out right before he continued in a way that suggested he was trying his best to keep it together--if only for her sake, "I know... I know how hard all of this is for you, and I shouldn't--shouldn't keep you hanging on like this... on the promise that I'll be back soon...
"The truth is," he said before pausing for a moment. She could hear him take in an unsteady breath and tried her best not to make a sound, afraid that even the smallest of noises would shatter whatever strength Shinichi was able to summon to say those next few words.
"The truth is, Ran," he continued, voice cracking slightly at the edges but persevering through it to finish, "I don't know... when I'll be able to come home--if I can even..."
The words 'come back' were left unsaid, falling silent as Shinichi's voice finally broke and Ran's tears began anew.
"Because of those cases?" she asked weakly, unable to be upset or angry at their situation anymore. Just... tired and broken.
She wished she could see him, because even if she told herself that she could imagine his facial expressions as he spoke, the truth was that it was getting harder and harder to remember his face. Now, as she listened to him speak over the phone, she could only imagine someone obscured by shadow shaking their head sullenly. "It's not that," he said quietly.
Ran closed her eyes, clutching her phone tighter in her hands. "Then it's not the cases?" she asked, feeling as if her heart were put into a vice.
"No!" Shinichi suddenly shouted, seeming alarmed for some reason. "I didn't mean--no, I mean that... Ran. There's never been... cases."
She opened her eyes and rubbed at her eyes with a hand that she freed from its grip on the phone. "I don't... I don't understand..." she said as if she were a lost child, hoping that someone would find her and explain things to her.
Shinichi, as always, was patient with explaining, though this time there was more than just the usual air of a teacher explaining something to a student. There was that heavy weariness, that pressing guilt, and something new in addition to the pain that she always heard from him now. "It's... it's complicated, but... all of these cases that I said I've been working? They're all--each case is just one part... of the same case."
Almost immediately, Ran experienced a feeling very much similar to the one she would get whenever Shinichi would explain a riddle or a puzzle--a sensation of knowing that she should have realized, should have seen it with all the clues that had been in place. That Shinichi would be gone so long, that he would be so sparce in his communication with anyone, that he would keep his involvement in any crime-solving underwraps... why hadn't she seen it sooner? Shouldn't she have known, even without Shinichi mentioning these cases during their conversations...
Cold dread seemed to seep into her skin there as all the pieces suddenly came together to form a picture that was hard to ignore. The answer was so simple. "O-oh... Shinichi," she said, trying to find something, anything at all to say as her mind tried to rap itself around this new information. "Shinichi, you--you haven't..." She trailed off before trying again, "You've been gone so long because..."
"I haven't been able to get them," he affirmed wearily, almost dispassionately. "Each time I seem to be getting closer and closer... they slip through my fingers. A lead turns into a dead-end. A source is killed of before I can get to them in time. Just... everything I run into lately... everything has their fingerprints on it. Has their signature written in blood--and..." He took a deep breath, an action that finally enabled Ran to put a name to that new emotion that was steadily growing in Shinichi's voice.
Fear.
"It's dangerous, Ran," he said quietly, a guilty tone to his voice letting her know that he would have continued the ruse of everything being fine if none of this had come up. "These people... their reach is a lot farther and deeper than anyone would have thought possible. Worse--worse than anything I've heard about. And I'm not the only one on the case--probably just the only one not getting paid."
A weak, ironic laugh escaped him, and Ran's eyes widened in horror.
"Then why are you still there?" she demanded, suddenly more afraid for Shinichi than she had ever been in the past. "If it's that dangerous--"
"I'm already a target."
Her voice caught in her throat, but she managed to ask in a whisper, "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
"Because I wanted to protect you," he answered just as quietly. "I didn't want--I didn't want any of this to affect you, too, but I know--I know that it's still been hard for you, and I probably would have never told you but..." His voice trailed off for a moment and all Ran could hear during that time of silence was his almost ragged breathing before he cleared his throat and continued, almost hesitantly--scared and hurt, "Ran, I know this isn't the best solution or arrangement. It--it hurts more than it should, you know? A-and... Ran, I swear. I never wanted to hurt you. I--I just...
"If... you really want, Ran," he continued in a voice that seemed to grow weaker and weaker with each passing second, "we... we don't have to do this. These phone calls... you've been crying more and more since this all started and I never wanted that--I swear, I'd do anything I could if I could to not let you cry but... if it's this contact with me that's causing it--"
Again, Ran was struck by the feeling of her heart tightening painfully. "S-Shinichi--" she weakly tried to object.
His voice broke through her own, his words faster and harder than before, as if he thought it would be better to have it said and done with, "Please, Ran, please... if you really can't--can't take all of this... I wouldn't blame you. At all. I know how hard it can be, and... please, Ran, if it'll make you stop crying...
"Just forget--forget about me..."
The heavy finality in those words made Ran close her eyes just as they began to blur with tears once again. "Shinichi, no--" she tried to say but it probably came out more garbled than she would like as her voice fought to get passed the lump in her throat.
Shinichi just continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I mean," he said in an ironic voice that was more brittle than anything Ran had ever heard from him, "it's not as though I can't handle myself. I've made it this far, haven't I? And... well, if I can manage to solve this case, I'll be able to go home and--"
"Do you really want me to forget you?" Ran cried out, putting her free hand to her forehead before allowing it to wipe away her tears. "Do you really want me to say that I hate this so much I wish I never knew you?"
The silence on the other side was enough to let her know what the answer was, but Shinichi said it anyway, voice more choked than before, "No, Ran. God, no. I don't want--I don't want to let you... I don't want to lose you, too. After losing everything else... no, Ran--no. You--you're all I--"
He stopped himself from saying the words, but Ran understood him well enough and sniffed as she brushed her hand over her eyes again. "Then I won't," she said as firmly as she could. "I couldn't--I can't forget you, Shinichi..."
"Time erases a lot of things," he argued quietly.
She closed her eyes and tried to keep herself calm as she then retorted, "Then I'll just--just have to keep remembering. Looking at past photos, talking about you with others... hearing your voice on the phone once in a while."
She sniffed again, agitatedly rubbing her eyes now, wishing she could stop crying just as Shinichi murmured in her ear, "I don't want something selfish like this if it's going to hurt you, Ran."
She gave a small, genuine laugh. "Of course it hurts, idiot," she said in fond manner. "What I said... I didn't mean it, Shinichi. I--I just miss you... and I want you to come home, b-but after what you told me..."
She bit her lip and sniffed again.
"I'm sorry," he said again, more guilt-ridden than ever before. "I'm so sorry, Ran. You shouldn't wait for me. You should--"
"I should call you an idiot," Ran interrupted with a weak laugh.
"You should," he agreed without any humor at all. An almost sorrowful tone to his weary voice now. "But you should also just move on, Ran. We both know that... that it might be years yet until I can finally come home. You shouldn't have to wait for someone like that... who might never make it back, and--I don't know... sometimes, I think it would be better if you'd never answer my calls again--if it means that you'll keep going on..."
Ran's brow furrowed in befuddlement. "Shinichi. Do you really think I can leave you behind?"
It went against everything she had believed about Shinichi. That Shinichi would have the same fear that she herself had seemed almost beyond ridiculous. Shinichi was not the kind of person who would get left behind easily. Considering the fact that he was front row and center of this... huge case that probably had people of the bigger-leagued investigations, it was utterly laughable that he could think that someone like her could get ahead and then past him.
If anything, she thought to herself, he was the one who'd already gone so far past her...
Shinichi's response also sounded somewhat confused, as if he didn't realize what he was saying and was trying to figure it out himself, "Well... I mean... look at where we are now. You're almost through high school, already. Only half a year left? A little longer? Meanwhile, I haven't been to a single class since at least the second year of high school, and... well, that's not to mention the fact that I've gotten no where on a case while you and your father and that kid have gone through case after case--"
"It's hardly the same thing!" she exclaimed, and very nearly scowled at the phone before she realized what she was doing and laughed to herself. "Shinichi, you idiot. As if I could ever get ahead of you in any area. You know I don't solve any of those crimes and you know that if you put your mind to it, you could graduate high school along with me--"
"If I can get home before then," he muttered, seemingly not knowing he was speaking aloud.
"You will," Ran stated firmly and felt almost as if she could believe it herself, even when everything he had said seemed to go against that belief. She added quietly, "I have faith in you, Shinichi."
Again, there was a long pause from the other side before she heard him heave another sigh--one that she couldn't properly label with one emotion or another. "Thanks, Ran..." he said quietly and added with utter honesty and sincerity, "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Ran closed her eyes allowed herself a moment to let herself think on what might happen if Shinichi were to be cut off from her, from possibly the only person he could trust at that moment in time. Without having someone to confide with and unwind with like he did whenever he called... he would probably be more than just burned out at this point. He would probably have been...
She allowed one final tear to escape before she whispered back, "Me too, Shinichi... and I don't think I ever want to know."
She'd always been at his side, was always there since they were kids to listen to him chatter, to learn from his genius in so many different fields of study, to compete against him in physical areas until he grew bored of them. It had always been that way, even when he was God-knows-where working on a seemingly impossible case, it was still that way. All she had, of course, was his voice. But in return, she came to realize, she offered him more than just a voice.
The one reason why Shinichi kept turning back and waiting for her, the reason why he would always call her up just when she was starting to believe that everything had gone wrong and she might never hear from him again, was because she was his only link back home. The only person who knew Shinichi for as long as he could remember. It was the one thing that kept that distance between them from growing infinitely larger as time went on and as things went from bad to worse.
But even if it grew to be a heavy burden, Ran swore to herself that she would never allow Shinichi to leave her behind--nor would she do the same to him. So she continued to wait, continued to communicate with the only way that they could--via the telephone. Sometimes, she wished she could do more to help him, but he would insist that she was doing enough by being there and waiting for him, even though he insisted more than once after those words were said that it would be best for her to move on, for her to leave him behind.
Ran merely replied to him each time that he was speaking of an impossibility. She could never doing something as horrible as leave behind her heart, which Shinichi would always hold--for better or for worse. Someday, they kept telling to each other wryly, things would get back to normal--or at least as normal as things could get. And this was enough for them. Until that day.
It had to be. If only so they could keep going forward together, at each others' side.