#I’m sorry Shinichi baby

[kaitokitty19]

Aptx!AU fancomic (read right > left)

A (kinda) follow up to this

My Aptx!AU sypnosis is here.

(Cont.) Arthur LeBlanc (shrunken Hakuba) joined the Detective Boys and was invited, along with the KID Killer (he already hate that name) to a heist at one of Suzuki Jirokichi’s wealthy acquaintances’s. The target this time is a Chalice, recent excavated from a sight of an ancient holy battle.

Despite telling Kaito that he would not compromise his conscience and aid him in the heist, Hakuba found himself easily disregarding that boundary when the situation became complicated (a person presented at the heist is a BO member) and Kaito’s identity is at risk. In the end, he would always choose Kaito. What he didn’t expect was for that sentiment to be reciprocated…

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Thanks to @muslimintp-1999-girl for making a most CoAi Tay song poll. I promised to write a song fic for the one that won, and coincidentally it was one that I had in the works already. And since this began on tumblr, I’ll post it here and on ao3 <3

You Belong With Me?

Summary: It’s a matter of principle. She was here first and they grew up together for goodness sake! Of course people can change their minds, but she waited patiently for two years with the title as his girlfriend, so how can it be over just like that? It’s not fair.

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you

Been here all along so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by you waiting at your back door

All this time how could you not know baby

You belong with me

It’s the first day of school of her freshman year in college. She’s nervously making her way around the courtyard, trying to navigate this new chapter in her life.

If only… no, she can’t think about him. Not today. But it’s too late. He’s like a virus that refuses to go away, no matter how much she tries to get rid of him.

Breathe Ran. It’s the first day of school. So what he’s going to be studying here too despite missing a whole year of high school. His super smart girlfriend must’ve helped him catch up.

She frowns, he was already smart before she came into the picture. She just doesn’t get it!

Okay, so yes Miyano Shiho is gorgeous, but she’s so shallow! What does Shinichi see in her? Yes she might be brilliant, holding multiple doctorates while Ran barely managed to make the cut for university, but Miyano is always making Shinichi feel stupid!

Yes her childhood friend can be an idiot, but he’s her idiot! Kudo Shinichi belongs to Mouri Ran. It’s been this way since they were four. Why can’t he see this!

Thirteen years together, plus two more of her waiting for his return so that they can go on dates like normal couples. They were official for two whole years and didn’t even go on one single date together.

They saw each other more frequently when they were just friends…

Crap, she’s been lost in her thoughts for too long. She missed the turn for her first class. Now she has to hurry or else she’s going to be late. She can’t make a bad impression on the first day.

Turning around, she bolts towards the science department. It’s a good thing she’s a fast runner, she makes it into one of the last two empty seats in the room before the professor begins pulling up the syllabus.

Quickly taking out her notebook, she takes a deep breath to slow her racing heartbeat. She thinks it’s just about back to normal when a loud commotion interrupts the professor mid sentence.

“Sorry I’m late!”

She’s heard those same words too many times to count, and that voice too. She doesn’t even need to look next to her to know that the last empty seat, is taken by none other than her ex boyfriend.

She cannot hide her displeasure, making the mistake of glancing in his direction as he dares to flash her a sheepish smile.

She hates him, but she really doesn’t. Her heart rate picks back up. Get it together Ran. It’s just one look, just a tiny smile and already she feels herself falling again.

“Don’t make it a habit next time, Kudo. Even if you have Miyano-kun vouching for you.”

Great. He doesn’t even get in trouble for being late, and of course the professor knows Miyano. Why is life so unfair?

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, mentally she’s still stuck in her eight am class.

Next Chapter

This must be a sign from the universe. The apartment across from her dorm gives her a clear view of the person residing there. Yep, it’s none other than the guy who still owns her heart. This has to mean something.

He doesn’t see her yet, engrossed into a heated phone call. She can’t quite make out the conversation, but she swears she reads the name Miyano on his lips.

Figures Miyano would be picking a fight with Shinichi right now. Honestly they should just break up. All they ever do is argue.

Keeping her eye on the window, she moves over to her CD player to start this new album she’s been obsessing over.

She smiles remembering the amount of effort Shinichi put into getting it for her. Who knew CDs would be so hard to come by?

She’s willing to bet Miyano doesn’t listen to this kind of music. She doesn’t seem the type to care about things like this.

He finally hangs up the phone, a frown etched onto his beautiful face. She knows what will cheer him up!

Before she can even gain his attention, he’s distracted by the person who walks into his room. It’s just not fair. How can she look so flawless in a short skirt in this weather! She’s not even shivering!

Ran takes a moment to compare her attire, noting her worn t-shirt she hastily threw on as she was running late. It’s one of her favorites, it’s reliable, but it dulls in comparison to Miyano’s fashion sense. Even Sonoko couldn’t help but admire Miyano’s style.

Again she still can’t hear anything, but it seems they’re continuing their previous argument.

Ran instinctively ducks when she sees Miyano walk over to pull the curtains close for some privacy. It doesn’t stop her from seeing their silhouette press together in the glow of incandescent bulbs above their heads. The image seems to be magnified as it burns into her memory.

The way she moves away to gain some distance, how he immediately rushes to pull her back into his arms. Shutting her venomous words with the touch of his lips onto hers. Ran has to look away after this. Shinichi has never shut Ran up with a kiss.

Next Chapter

She’s adjusted well to college life. Going to classes, finishing assignments, making new friends, and allowing Shinichi back into her life.

He has a way of worming himself into a person’s heart, like a parasite who slowly takes control until it’s too late to break free of its influence.

So even though she decided she would get over him and go back to being friends. Old habits die hard. She finds herself wishing for his company more and more, only to be let down again and again.

It’s times like this she wonders how Miyano deals with his frequent disappearances. Will it eventually become too much, breaking them apart and leaving him all alone?

No, Kudo Shinichi shines too brightly to ever be left alone. If not Miyano, someone else will gladly take her place, and even though she knows she shouldn’t. Ran would be first in line.

“Ran? I thought that was you.”

“Shinichi? What are you doing here?”

“I got caught up in a case.”

“You and your cases. Some things never change.”

“No, they don’t. Are you headed back?”

“Just about. There’s a cafe up ahead that everyone’s been raving about. I thought I would go check it out.”

“That one just opened up right?”

“Yeah… um… if you’re not busy, you’re welcome to join me.”

“Sure, it’ll be my treat.”

Her heart is thumping erratically in her chest. This is it. This must be what it’s like to finally be on a date with Shinichi, just the two of them without his insistent babbles about mysteries.

They opted to sit outside at a park bench since it was so crowded inside. The weather is finally warming up, soon it will be spring.

She wasn’t thinking when she blurted out her hope that he would come with her. She’s never been one to remain shy when he’s involved. Preparing for another rejection, she was overjoyed when he accepted.

She expects it to be awkward, they haven’t really spoken outside of their one shared class. The conversation flows naturally, they seem to pick up right where they were, before he broke up with her.

She melts seeing his smile, it’s been a long time since she’s seen his smile. She notes the bags under his eyes, he hasn’t been sleeping well. She calls him out on it.

“I’m fine, really, just busy.”

“I know you better than that. What’s bothering you, Shinichi?”

“… nothing. I’m doing great, honestly.”

“… we are still friends right? Maybe you’ll feel better if you confide in someone.”

He pauses as he weighs out the pros and cons of letting her in. It has to be about Miyano. He’s never kept secrets, unless his girlfriend is involved. There must be trouble in paradise.

She waits with bated breath for the answer. Until the clacking of heels interrupts them.

Glancing up, her eyes meet the woman who took everything from her. Clenching her fist, she forces herself to calm down. She can’t make a scene when Shinichi is already upset.

Sure spring is just around the corner, but is it necessary to walk around in sparkling golden heels right now? Ran looks down at her trusty trainers, this is much more practical.

Looking over to see what Shinichi thinks, she’s taken aback by his reaction. She’s never seen this side of him before.

The look of relief when he sees Miyano standing in front of him, how his eyes soften when she asks if he’s ready to go home. He immediately reaches for her hand as a response, cracking a smile on her normally impassive features.

She’s beautiful when she smiles. Not that she isn’t already gorgeous, but it’s a kind of radiance that rivals the light of a thousand suns. An aura she once believed only belonged to Shinichi, but now she knows there is another.

Miyano is polite when they bid their goodbyes, she even tells Ran to try a vanilla latte next time. With oat milk to be exact.

It’s then she realizes why Shinichi was so quick to take her offer. Going as far as snapping a picture of his drink, even though he used to think it was silly when Ran would do this. He was sending it to Miyano, in hopes it would be enough to lure her over to him.

Next Chapter

Her whole life she knew her place as a spot next to Shinichi, growing used to his presence. How he holds her together when she’s in her deepest woes. In return, she does the same for him.

Or at least she thought she did. He was her safe place, she tried to be his safe haven as well. Making herself available to him at random times, usually to use as an excuse for his absence. Doing little things to cheer him up when he’s in a grumpy mood, even though she thinks he’ll feel better if he just cries it out like she does when she’s sad.

She knows all of his hopes and dreams. Though she claims to be annoyed, she does admire his drive to achieve his goals. She knows he can do anything if he puts his mind to it.

So then… why couldn’t they make it work?

Why did he break her heart with claims that he may not be able to return, leaving her waiting in agony every single day during the course of their relationship.

Why didn’t he immediately rush to her side, and beg for her to take him back… after whatever battles he had been fighting without her were over?

Why come back without any explanations except for an apology she never wanted to hear. How he couldn’t give her the life she wants, because he made a promise to some other girl.

Who cares about this newcomer? Did she put in as much time and love into this boy, now a grown man, as Ran did? Were nights spent pacing up and down in desperation that his absence is just a bad nightmare? What gives Miyano Shiho the right to come crashing into their lives and stealing what is rightfully hers?

Their love story isn’t supposed to end in tragedy, Ran and Shinichi should have made it all the way to the very end. Live the fairytale happily ever after she’s been dreaming about since she was four.

It’s just not fair. Kudo Shinichi belongs to Mouri Ran.

“Shiho, wait!”

Ran doesn’t know why she does it, but she hides behind the building like a coward. He’s not even looking for her, why should she hide?

Miyano certainly isn’t as she continues to walk ahead of him, she isn’t slowing her stride. Ran wonders how she’s still able to move so quickly with those black pumps.

“Shiho!”

He finally catches up to her, grabbing her wrist, forcing her to turn around to face him. Even from this distance, Ran can see the anger in her eyes. Miyano Shiho is livid.

It’s then she takes a better look at Shinichi and notes his disheveled appearance. It’s a miracle he was able to catch up to her so quickly given his injuries.

“I told you to wait for me.”

“I heard.”

“You cruel woman, I’m in real pain and you just left me at the nurse’s office.”

“You should’ve just stayed there and gotten your wounds treated.”

“You’re still mad…”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Shiho, I…”

“No Shinichi, stop. I’m not doing this again. I warned you and you didn’t listen. It’s over. We’re done here.”

“I promise there won’t be a next time, I didn’t know that guy had a knife. Look at me, I’m still fine, it just hurts a little.”

“You know I don’t mind you going out and solving cases, but you’re so reckless! Do you even consider how I feel seeing you hurt every time? I’m grateful that you gave me back my life Shinichi. You taught me not to be afraid, but now you’re the reason for my fears. I’m tired of being scared.”

“Shiho, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry. Just let me go.”

She pushes him away, intending to walk off by herself. He doesn’t allow her the luxury. Reaching out before she has the chance to completely turn away. He gathers her into his arms, holding her tightly, afraid she may disappear into thin air should he let her leave.

Ran cannot hear the whispers he speaks into Miyano’s ear, but it seems to calm her down enough to return his embrace. The only thing she manages to make out is those three little words.

He loves her. He really loves her.

The End

Once upon a time Ran believed she was in love with a boy who would only love her back. Now she knows better. It doesn’t matter who was here first, or how much time they spent together. There is no measure for love.

After seeing the almost break up of shinshi, she goes back through her memories one last time before letting the past stay in the past.

She’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt, of course it did, it was real after all. It still hurts if she’s being honest, but it’s a dull ache that no longer consumes her every waking moment. Some days, she forgets it even existed.

Sonoko asked her once what made her graciously bow out of this love triangle, she told her she deserves better; as her best friend, Sonoko wholeheartedly agreed.

The truth is, she learned an important lesson from Shiho that day. It’s a cliché, but seeing it in action solidified the expression.

Shiho was willing to let Shinichi go, despite loving him. Teenage Ran wouldn’t understand this, even if she did want them to break up, but Ran now understands.

No one belongs to anyone, only to themselves. So while she used to wish her ex boyfriend would come back to her like they do in the movies. Now she knows, Kudo Shinichi belongs to himself and he chooses Miyano Shiho.

So, it’s time Mouri Ran do the same. It’s just a matter of principle, she can’t have her childhood best friend showing her up after all. That just wouldn’t be fair.

[shu-glue]

Chapter 5: Run That By Me Again

Summary: You meet up with Kita and he asks you to tutor Suna. You and your friends arrive at the gym to take some shots for the volleyball team's posters when you get suspicious of Suna.

A/N: holy moly, this is like. the longest chapter i've written so far (a whopping 5.5+ words O.O) (i know its not that long compared to others but shush). chapter 6 is almost finished and will be posted next week; however, i'll have to move the schedule to every Saturday in my timezone (Fridays PST) since i'm going back to school and i have responsibilities again 🥹. anyway, as usual, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! hope you like the chapter and hope you have a nice day!

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(Knock, knock.

“Excuse us, anybody hooome~?”

Your small hand tightened its grip on your older brother’s, your wide eyes flitting up to him nervously. Your palms were sweaty, and your face was flushed. Your baby cheeks were puffed out as you gulped down the large lump in your throat but to no avail. “Shinichi… I wanna go home now…” You say to him, pulling at his sleeve to get him to leave the doorstep of your neighbors’ house, to get him to go back to your home—if you can call that new, empty house a home.

Your older brother, Shinichi, looks down at you, blue-green eyes wide with surprise. He said your name softly, placing a hand on your shoulder, his free hand holding onto the basket of separately packaged biscuits. “We can’t go back home already, we just got here. Besides, it’s important to make friends with the neighbors, remember?” He had gently said to you, smiling.

You frowned deeply, shaking your head vehemently as you buried your face in his shirt. “No! I wanna go home… my stomach is feelin’ funny…” You cried. You didn’t want to meet new people. You didn’t want to see them stare at you again, behind their bright cameras and whispers behind their hands, like how it was in your hometown. The thought filled you up with a funny feeling in your stomach that made you want to puke, and made your hands and fingers shake.

Shinichi’s eyebrows raised before they furrowed, frowning now as well as he pushed the bangs away from your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have forced ya. We can come back here another day—” He had said to reassure you, finally understanding your state, when the door had opened and the two of you whipped your heads to look at it.

You hid behind your older brother, immediately cautious, as the both of you stared up at the old woman who greeted you at the door. Her hair was already a silvery gray and a warm smile was plastered on her face, inviting and comforting.

“Oh? Ya must be the kids of the family that jus’ moved in.” She said, her smile getting brighter as she looked down at you and Shinichi.

He smiled politely, bowing at her and nudging your back so you would do the same. “That’s right! I’m Shinichi and this is my little sibling.” He had said, introducing the two of you. He calls your attention. “Say hi to the nice lady.”

Meekly, you had averted your cautious gaze from the woman, muttering a small ‘hi’ that made the old woman beam at you, regardless. “Oh, such polite children! I’m Kita Yumie, nice ta meetcha!” She had said. Shinichi beams. You don’t reply.

“Nice ta meetcha too, ma’am, we’re actually here ta give ya some biscuits we made! Our mama wanted us ta make friends with the neighbors.” Shinichi says, handing a plastic of cookies to Yumie, which she gingerly accepts. “But, my sibling is actually having a stomachache so we have ta go back home.”

You hid yourself even more behind Shinichi, about two seconds away from running back home and locking yourself away from the world. Yumie raised her eyebrows. “Oh! If that’s the case, please, have some tea leaves we have. They help immensely with stomach pains, I always have my grandchildren drink it when they complain about their tummy feelin’ funny.” She had said and she looked behind her. “Ah, Shizuka’s taking care of Shousuke then—Shin-chan! Can ya get the mint tea from the top cabinet?”

You peeked around your brother when she said that, the littlest bit of curiosity having had taken hold of you. “Oh, Shinsuke is a really sweet boy. He’s about yer age, actually!” Yumie said to you, smiling brightly. "He's a bit shy but he means well. I would appreciate it if ya befriend the boy as well."

Shinichi grinned down at you, almost excited. You're confused. "Did ya hear that? Ya might get a new friend!" He had said to you. You highly doubted it. You didn't want a new friend. You wanted to be left in peace. You wanted to be alone. You wanted to disappear from everyone else's peering eyes forever—

"Grandma." A new voice had cut in and you turn your head to look behind Yumie, and your eyes had widened seeing his silver hair, fading to black at the tips, and his sharp brown eyes. "Here's the tea."

The two of you made eye contact, and he had blinked at you curiously, while you blinked back.

"Ah, thank you, Shin-chan. These are our new neighbors!" Yumie had said to him, before turning to you and Shinichi. "This is my grandson, Kita Shinsuke."

You looked at him, at Kita, and the both of you made eye contact.

Your eyes wide, as he nodded at you and your brother. "It's nice ta meetcha."

Your stomach started to feel funny again. But that time, it was different.)

When you were younger, you never really thought that you'd be friends with Kita Shinsuke, much less best friends. The quiet, mild-mannered boy from two houses down the street, living with his siblings and his grandmother while his parents worked away in the rice fields. He was a year older than you were, and on the weekends, you and your older brother would visit his house.

You can’t remember exactly when you two became friends. At some point, you two just clicked.

You can’t remember exactly when you realized you had feelings for him either. No, that’s not entirely true. You just know that at some point, Kita became someone you wanted to give the world to. At some point, your heart began to beat quicker whenever you saw him. Your palms would get clammy with sweat when he’s near you. At some point, your feelings went past the line of platonic.

And it was the scariest realization of all.

“Kita?” You call out as you step through the doors, walking onto the school rooftop. It was quite easy to slip away from Nana and Ryuji, who were so immersed in finding out the universal deadline for returning one’s manga. No one comes up to the rooftop anyway, so you were pretty much safe on your way up.

The wind is much stronger up here, whipping through your hair. No one comes up here, so it’s only you and Kita.

He’s sitting by the net railing of the rooftop, silver hair waving in the strong wind. Ankles crossed and arms wrapped around his knees, he looks serene. It feels like your heart just stopped and got resuscitated at the same time. Smiling, you walk—if not skip—over to him, your grin barely hidden on your face. “Kita!”

Kita blinked and looked up to see you approach, his expression melting away to form a gentle smile on his face. He says your name gently—your first name, like he always had—, greeting you with a ‘good morning’ and you feel like your heart could burst as you sit down beside him, enjoying the morning air next to him.

Kita Shinsuke. Your best friend, your childhood friend. Your everything.

“Did ya finish yer morning practice early?” You ask him, getting comfortable on the ground. Kita’s usually so busy with the volleyball club, he rarely has time to see you in the mornings.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “everyone was tired after a few drills so I let them rest before their first period classes start. I also wanted to talk to ya before class.”

You grin. “Ya say they usually slack off during practice. Did ya decide to be merciful this time?” You joke. Kita tilts his head.

“Am I that strict?”

“Nah, yer good. The best captain even.”

For as long as you can remember, Kita loved volleyball. It started when the both of you saw a couple of kids passing a volleyball back and forth between each other. It was obvious that Kita wanted to try playing, but he was never verbal about his interests at that time. He never talked about what he wanted, it’s like he just adapted to what happened around him and acclimated. You scrapped up whatever money you had in your allowance with Shinichi’s help, and bought Kita a volleyball for his 7th birthday.

You were afraid that he wouldn’t like it, that you overestimated yourself and thought you knew him better than you actually did, but you will never forget the way he smiled and hugged you in thanks that day. Ever since then, he is always so thorough when he practices, and he gives his all every time. The fact that he became captain made you so proud of him.

“When's the preliminaries for Interhigh? I need ta know when to hog the TV at home to watch ya play.” You say, wringing your fingers together.

“Some time after midterms, I believe.” Kita replies. “But ya don’t have to watch if yer busy.”

“Don’t say that! I want to!” You suddenly exclaim, closing your fists as you whip your head to him. “What kinda person would I be if I didn’t support ya?”

Kita’s expression softens as he looks at you, smiling gently. “Thank you.” He says with a gentle utterance of your name.

Kita Shinsuke. Your best friend, your childhood friend. Your everything.

Everything you want in your future but you’re not even sure if he feels the same way.

“Oh wait, which reminds me,” Kita’s words make you perk up, “can I ask ya fer another favor? I’m sorry, I know I already asked ya ta make posters for the team but—"

“If it’s a request from you, I don’t mind, Kita.” You say, scooting closer to show him you’re paying attention. “What is it?”

“Thank you, it’s just… something that needs to be done before midterms.”

Your heart begins to beat dangerously fast. Wait, oh no, what if he’s planning on confessing to someone and he wants you to be the messenger? What if he wants to stop being friends because of that? Please don’t let it be that, please don’t let it be that—!

“Ya remember Suna Rintarou, right?”

Oh thank God.

Wait, what.

“Suna Rintarou?” You repeat in confusion, tilting your head as you raise an eyebrow. “Ya mean that boy from the cafeteria yesterday? Your teammate?” And the guy who just recorded the Miya twins and Nana bickering without doing anything to stop the scene and the guy who crashed into you yesterday and didn’t bother apologizing. (But Kita didn’t need to know that.)

“That’s the one.”

“What’s his deal then?” Your face sours at the mere thought of the sleepy-eyed asshole as you place your chin on your palm.

“Well, his grades are dropping. And we had been informed yesterday that if he doesn’t pass his midterms, it is highly likely that he’d be benched for Interhigh preliminaries.”

“Oh.” You blurt out, lifting your head. “That’s not good.”

Kita frowns, nodding his head as he rubs his temple. “Yes. I was wonderin’ if you can talk to him, and help him out a bit.”

You blink. “Help him out?” You repeat and Kita just gives you a look. Instantly, you regret being on the same wavelength as him sometimes. “I am NOT tutoring him.”

“Is it because ya had to scold him yesterday at lunch—?”

“It’s because he’s an annoying lil—!” You cut yourself off, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry, it won’t work, Kita, we won’t get along. I barely even know the guy, I don’t have time for him, and I don’t have time for his problems!”

Kita sighs. “He’s one of our key players in the team, and a talented spiker. I don’t want to have a player like him benched for half of the tournament.”

You look down at your feet, pouting. “Yer probably better than him, Kita. No, yer definitely a better player!”

“I’m flattered yer confident in my abilities, but, Suna’s still a core starting player.” Kita says. “Please, if not fer him, can ya do it fer me?”

He’s doing it again. You don’t know if he’s aware he does it. He HAS to know that he’s doing it! There is no way he’s just subconsciously and coincidentally giving you puppy dog eyes with those brown eyes of his.

And the saddest thing is that it’s actually working on you.

“Ghk. Well…” You trail off, trying to avert your gaze from the way Kita is looking at you. “Well… uh…”

Kita’s small frown grows deeper and his eyebrows furrow even more, from looking like a quiet, pouting child, to a sad looking labrador puppy sitting in the rain. Oh, this is so not fair. This is really not fair!

“F— Fine…” You finally say, slumping as you sigh loudly. “I’ll help him study. But only if he asks! I ain’t offering!”

It seems like that was enough for him as he smiles softly at you, one of those rare smiles he never really shows others (you feel special every time you see it). You try to ignore the way your heart flutters when he rests his head on your shoulder, slightly tired from morning practice. He may be a robot to some, but you see different. He says your name. “Thank you.” Kita murmurs. “Yer a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it.” You reply, trying to keep your composure as well as act normal, resting your head on top of his, praying that he doesn’t hear the way your heart is beating so fast right now, so thunderous, so loud. How has he not noticed by now?

“Ya know, I’m glad yer my friend.” He says and you feel his breath on your shoulder, you feel his hand ghosting the side of yours, you feel your cheeks heat up so bad you feel like your face would melt and catch on fire.

You want to cry. You want to throw up. You want to hug him, kiss him, tell him how much you love him and how much you want to be by his side. How much he means to you. How happy he makes you feel.

But you don’t. You can’t.

You just smile at him. “Hey, Kita.” And you hope your voice doesn’t sound weird, that you don’t sound nervous, that you aren’t stuttering like a bumbling fool. You hope that you don’t throw up after this. And he smiles back at you.

“I’m glad yer my friend too!” You say, eyes shut as you force a smile.

You hope, you pray, that he never finds out what he does to you. At least, not until you tell him yourself. These feelings of yours are like a secret you want to share with him and only him, the only page in your locked diary that you’d willingly tear out and give to him because you’d know your secret is safe with him. A secret only meant for you and him. Your confidant. Your best friend. Your childhood friend. Your everything.

“Thank you.”

If only you were brave enough, prepared enough to trust him with the key.

“Disposable cameras?!"

“Check.”

“Lights?!”

“Check.”

“Okay! Senpai, draft posters?!”

“...”

“Senpai?”

“.....”

“SENPAI!”

You startle out of your daze and stand up straight, finally zoning back in. Classes have ended a few minutes ago and you’re in the clubroom, preparing everything you and your friends need to take the photos for the posters of the volleyball team. Though, you’ve been in a daze all day ever since your talk with Kita this morning. “Huh? Oh, the drafts? Yeah, check.” You quickly say, filing through the stack of papers in your hands.

“Are ya alright? You were zoning out just now.” Ryuji asks you, tilting his head as he looks at you confused.

“Eh? Yeah, I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be?” You reply, trying to act normal again.

“I know ya space out sometimes, senpai, but it’s not like ya ta mentally peace out while doing somethin’ fer the club.” Nana says, before she gasps, hand going to cover her mouth almost scandalously as she leans forward. “Is it… is it Mystery Boy Crush—?!”

Immediately, you have Nana’s mouth covered with both your hands, your eyes wide and cheeks red. “No! No, I mean— okay, yeah, it’s Mystery Boy Crush but like—”

Nana shrieks in excitement. “Wait, really?! What happened this time? What did he do??” She asks, eager for details as she pries your hands off her mouth. Ryuji doesn’t say anything but it’s obvious he’s curious too, if the way he’s leaning towards you and tilting his head was any indication.

Both your friends know that you have someone you like (an image that would shock anyone who didn’t know you personally). They know you are close with him, and that you are head over heels over him, but they have no idea as to who your Mystery Boy Crush is. They’re curious though, and overwhelmingly positive about him as all you’ve ever told them is that he’s sweet, studious, and caring (which is true).

“He just… we just talked…” You say, averting your gaze. Honestly, that’s all you really did earlier but your heart still stubbornly and erratically beats.

“Wait, oh my god, shut up, did ya?!" Nana excitedly pries, shaking your shoulders. "Did ya finally confess yer feelings? Did he tell ya he liked ya too?!"

You raise your eyebrows, grabbing Nana's hands to stop her shaking you. "Uh, no. We really just talked." You reply, making her whine out loud.

"Nana, we shouldn't pry too much." Ryuji chastises her and Nana robotically turns her head towards Ryuji, an unimpressed look on her face.

"If ya tell me yer not curious about who senpai's mystery crush is and what they did earlier today, yer a huge liar."

"... yer not entirely wrong." Ryuji admits, rubbing the back of his neck and Nana places her hands on her hips proudly.

"Of course, I'm right!" She says ("I said not entirely wrong—") before turning to you. "Senpai, are ya SURE ya can't give us at least one clue? Like, what club is he in? What does he look like? Is he cute? Hot?"

You blush and lightly push Nana's face, pinching her cheeks. "Not gonna tell ya. It's a secret fer me and me alone." You say and while Nana whines once again and Ryuji looks disappointed, they don't press the issue any further.

"Fineee. Let's just head to the gym now��"

A sudden voice by the doorway interrupts the three of you. You all recognize the voice; Nana snaps her head up, face immediately twisted in displeasure, Ryuji frowns deeply, and you immediately steel yourself, putting on your blank facade once more.

"Looks like we have the clubroom to ourselves then, doesn't it guys?"

At the doorway stood three boys. The one with dark hair is eyeing you and Nana with his blue, keen gaze, lazy smirk plastered on his face. (Sleazy, as Nana would describe him.) The one with strawberry blond hair and red eyes is standing farther back, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes boring into the three of you. The last one with light brown hair is standing front and center, smiling coyly at you and you alone.

It annoyed you.

"You shut yer whore mouth, Hasegawa!" Nana shouts at the dark haired boy, the one who spoke up first earlier.

He frowns at Nana, shaking his head in mock disappointment as he clicks his tongue. "Yer so violent, Nana-chan! Maybe if ya softened up a bit, somebody would take pity and actually have interest in ya." He says, revelling in the way Nana clenches her fists and grits her teeth. "Hmm, maybe grow up a bit while yer at it as well. How old are ya again? Eleven?"

Nana snaps her head to you and Ryuji, and you two can almost see a vein ready to pop in her forehead. "Can I hit him this time?"

"Maybe not…" Ryuji restrains her by the arms in advance.

"Come on now, you two, why don't we get along?" The light brown haired boy says, smiling coyly at Nana this time as he waves his hands to placate her, which irks her even more.

"Joue-senpai." You finally say, voice level. "I thought ya weren't coming to the clubroom today."

While you're the vice president of the art club, Joue Misao is the president of the art club. At least, he should be. He doesn’t really do anything for the club aside from hanging out with his friends, Hasegawa Daiki and Amiya Hotarou, in the clubroom along with the rest of his lackeys. (“Like a bunch of lazy twats,” Ryuji had said once.) It’s annoying, but Misao is well and popular among everyone else for his ikemen-like appearance and “chivalrous” personality. In reality, he’s narcissistic and flat out lousy.

Daiki isn’t a member of the art club; he’s actually not a member of any club right now as he prefers to spend his free time after school doing ‘dodgy’ activities. Hotarou, on the other hand, IS a member of the club but he’s either just brooding in the background during club activities or with Misao and Daiki doing who knows what.

You and your friends weren’t fond of the trio, Nana and Ryuji more riled up because of how Misao dumped all his responsibilities on you and them in the past.

“Oh, we heard that y’all were going to the gym today, so we figured we’d guard the clubroom while yer at it.” Misao replies to you, demure smile now turned back to you. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes though.

“YER our club president! Ya should be helping us right now too—!” Nana rolls up her sleeves, ready to punch anyone if needed, but Misao wags a finger at her.

“Ah, but isn’t this our lovely vice president’s idea? Then this should be their responsibility, shouldn’t it?” He says, side-eyeing you with a smirk on his face and saying your name. “That’s what we talked about yesterday, ain’t that right?”

Your frown deepens and you cast a harsh glare at Misao, but you don’t say anything despite the fact that you’re obviously irked. Ryuji does it for you. “Ya know, ya can’t just blow off all yer responsibilities and expect Vice Pres to—”

“Shut uppp. Yer cutting in on our downtime.” Daiki whines, pushing past the three of you to walk further into the clubroom.

“Hah??! Why I outta—!” You stop Nana with a sigh, leading her and Ryuji out of the clubroom.

“Let’s just go, guys, it’s not worth it.” You say, ignoring the smirk Misao gives you. You push your friends out as they complain, quickly exiting the clubroom before any more bickering can break out.

Hotarou’s red eyes follow you out the door.

“We should’ve cussed ‘im out.”

You give a drawn out sigh as the three of you near the gym. Nana and Ryuji are pissed, rightfully so, with how Misao and his friends had treated the three of you earlier. Honestly, you want to throttle him as well. Wipe that stupid smirk off his face and maybe pull out at least some of his brown hair. But alas, you had a reputation to keep and hitting someone willy nilly wouldn't do anything for you except cause trouble.

"It's really not a big deal." You say, turning to Nana and Ryuji with a dubious look on your face, an eyebrow raised.

"No, it's not not a big deal!" Nana interjects, shaking both her fists in front of her. Her face is red hot with anger, eyebrows furrowed together so tightly you're worried she'd get wrinkles early. "Ya don't deserve treatment like that! Those assholes shouldn't be treating ya that way and personally, I'd give 'em a piece of my mind!"

"I don't normally agree with, uhh, violent methods but Nana's right." Ryuji adds, crossing his lanky arms over his chest as he regards you with stern eyes. "Telling a teacher about his lousiness won't cut it."

"That's right, that's right!"

This shouldn't be the time for your heart to swell at their concern for you, but you can't help it. They really ground you. Support you never knew you needed until you were about to collapse.

Though their willingness to beat someone up for you is endearing in some way, it's not a good idea in the slightest. "They insulted the two of ya, too. I'm more miffed by that than whatever they do or whatever they say ta me." You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. "But causing a scene won't solve anything, ya know, we'd only get in trouble and I don't want that for either of ya."

Nana pouts. "We can handle any punishment!"

"I'd rather ya don't handle a punishment in the first place." You sigh again, throwing your head back and staring at the sky. "Let's jus' leave it, yeah? We just have ta deal with Joue-senpai fer another few months."

"Ya mean an entire school year." Nana grumbles as she slumps, extremely exhausted just from that one encounter. "Can y'all believe he said photography is just taking random pictures and photoshopping ta make it pretty? The nerve of that dick!"

"I've had Hasegawa mess up one of my oil paintings by adding an entire cup of water to my paint…" Ryuji adds, rubbing his face with his hands. "And Amiya…"

Nana cuts in. "Amiya's just weird."

You sigh in understanding. "Well, doesn't mean we can't have a fun year, now does it?" You say, trying to light up the mood. Nana looks at you with disbelief.

"Yer so disgustingly optimistic!"

Soon, the three of you arrive at the gym, the double doors wide open. You can hear talking in the gym, loud murmurs, and the occasional squeaking of sneakers against the hardwood floors.

You enter the gym first, followed by Nana and Ryuji. “Excuse me, please pardon the intrusion.” You call out, voice calm and cool and face stoic. The entire team is dressed in their volleyball uniforms and they turn their heads when you announce your arrival. Coach Kurosu is with Kita, their attention now on you the second you called out, and Kita gives you a small smile.

"Ah, members of the art club. I take it Kita asked ya to make the posters fer us." Coach Kurosu asks you as you and your friends approach him.

"Yes, thank you fer letting us borrow yer time today. Especially since we heard the tournament is somewhat soon…"

"Oh, don't worry about that! Just do what ya gotta do fer today." Coach Kurosu assures you, waving his hand, and he turns to Kita. "I'll leave everything to ya then, kid. Gotta meet with some teachers."

Kita nods and you bow to the older man as the coach leaves the gym. The former gives you a smile. "Thanks again." He murmurs to you and you nod, trying not to let a grin spread on your face.

The silver-haired captain then turns to his team and beckons them to gather around, all of them obeying either with a confused or curious expression. "Boys, these are the members of the art club. They'll be helping us create recruitment posters, as well as fundraiser posters."

You bow to the rest of the team, Nana and Ryuji following your lead. "Good afternoon. I'm the vice president of the art club," you say, giving them your name, "these are my fellow members, Hibiki Ryuji and Murasaki Nana. Thank you for havin' us." You have Nana distribute the draft posters so everyone can have a look, while you and your friends set up the lights. You flit your eyes over each member, checking to see if everyone is accounted for. You asked Kita for a list of all his teammates and their positions yesterday when you were making the draft posters.

There’s Aran, Akagi, and Omimi; the three you know the most because you’ve seen them with Kita during school most of the time. There’s the first years as well, though, the only one you know by name is Riseki Heisuke (mostly because Nana has complained about him bumping into her one too many times).

… And there are three second years trying to avoid your gaze.

Ginjima looks like he wants to melt into the floor this time, Atsumu is too busy having a “friendly” glaring match with Nana, Osamu is trying to stifle his laughter. The only second years who are looking at you are Yuto, who’s glancing between you and the aforementioned three in confusion, and…

You narrow your eyes when you see Suna’s yellowish-gray gaze fixed on you. He doesn’t look angry or even annoyed, he’s just staring at you with blank eyes.

What’s his deal?

Blink, please?

“What are you glaring at, High and Mighty?” Suna suddenly says, surprising you and at the same time, managing to make you viscerally angry. High and what?

“Are ya talking ta me?” You speak in a threateningly calm voice, eyebrows raised as you level him with a cold look.

Suna doesn’t flinch and just regards you with a raised eyebrow. “I dunno, am I?”

He’s looking at you with a challenging and indignant glare again, just like he had yesterday. But this time, you don’t know; it’s like there’s something else. Something else he has under his sleeve. You’ve met too many people like him to not know when someone thinks they have a trump card. This look he’s giving you is not just challenging or indignant; it’s sly. And cunning.

Before you can think about it further, Ryuji calls you over for help with the lights. Pursing your lips, you glance back at Suna, rolling your eyes before turning around. “I know you’re well aware that I have a name.” You say. “You know it. Use it.”

Whatever information he thinks he has against you, it wouldn’t make you bat an eye.

“We’ll do a formal group shot first, two rows, shorter members on the front and taller members in the back.” Nana orders after everyone is finished looking at the draft posters, and you and Ryuji have the lights ready. “We don’t have all day! If ya lose yer dignity being singled out as the shortest teammate, I don’t care!”

"Should you be talking?!"

You watch with a sigh as Nana wrangles everybody to their proper positions. Ryuji is pale with how many tall athletes Nana is quickly making enemies of, and you can practically hear all the backup plans he's mentally forming if she ever manages to anger 3 or more of them. "I'm going to have an aneurysm."

"Don't have it here."

"I'm gonna have a medical emergency and yer tellin' me ta hold it in?"

When the players have lined up now, Nana looks at them with a scrutinizing gaze, hand on her chin as she looks at them one by one. "Senpai," she calls out to you, "do ya think their positions are alright?"

Blinking, you give them all a once over, pursing your lips. "I think it'd be better if the front row crouches or sits down, and the tallest members in the back row stand on each end…" As you ramble, you walk forward and begin rearranging all the volleyball club members in the back row, tallest ones on each end and their heights descending towards the middle.

Some of the first years blush when you nonchalantly grab their arms and wrists to pull them to a new spot. You don't give it much thought. You're too busy with what you're doing.

You were so busy that you didn't notice the foot jutting out in front of your path and you trip on it, eyes wide as you flail your arms in front of you to break your fall. The impact doesn't come, however; an arm swiftly wraps around your waist, stopping your fall.

The air is knocked out of your lungs for a moment before you quickly gather your bearings, twisting around to look at the culprit who tripped you and the savior who caught you.

They're one in the same.

Suna stares down at you with the same blank eyes, brown bangs cascading down his face. You're acutely aware of his arm still wrapped around your waist even as you manage to stand upright once again. Barely registering Kita's voice asking if you're alright, you watch as Suna glances at Kita and back at you with a scrutinizing gaze, almost as if… he's trying to decipher something.

Just…

Just what is this guy planning?!

Student ID: Joue Misao

Class 3-7, President of the Art Club

Age: 18

Birthday: April 1

Fun Fact: Once, he saved a first year's cat from a tree to show off, fell on his bum while climbing down, and found out it wasn't even the first year's cat.

Student ID: Hasegawa Daiki

Class 3-2

Age: 18

Birthday: September 5

Fun Fact: He once tried to date three girls at the same time but they all broke up with him on the same day without being aware of one another.

Student ID: Amiya Hotarou

Class 3-1

Age: 17

Birthday: February 29/March 1 (on non-leap years)

Fun Fact: He always gets confused when he doesn't see his birthday on the calendar when it's not a leap year.

[hilplusterrorss]

Howdy!! This is your dcmk santa, so sorry I had not messaged you sooner! As soon as I got my email, all of my focus just mostly went into working on sketches and ideas for the gift, hehe... But anyway, nice to meet ya!! All I wanted to know rn is, what's your most favorite character in DCMK? And also, if I decide to do anything with Sonoko, is there anything in particular that you'd prefer for her specifically? Thank you for your time and hope you have an great day!~

Hi there! No worries! It’s nice to meet you too, even if i can’t see you yet :)

I’m definitely new to dcmk, as I’ve only watched the first season, Kaitou Kid’s first couple of appearances, and Heiji’s introduction, but due to how much my roommate (who got me invested) has told me, I feel like I know the kids well <3 I think my top favorites are probably Kaito and Shinichi. Kaito is just such an interesting character with so much going on and also *points* that’s a baby <3 And Shinichi is like. A little shit, especially as Conan, but he’s very genuine and cares a lot about what he does and i may want to punt him but in a ‘that’s my little brother’ kinda way.

I do love Sonoko, too! She’s so much fun, even if sometimes her line of thought seems weird or frivolous to others, she knows what she wants but she isn’t dumb about pursuing it. I’m not sure exactly what kinds of situations I’d like to see her in, but I think it would be fun to see her just hanging out and having fun with people, maybe people she doesn’t get a lot of—or any—screen time with? Like I remember some art I saw the other day like ‘sonoko kaito and heiji should be besties i think’ and like so true! It seems like most content for her is either shippy or with Ran, so it might be fun to see her just hanging with other friends :)

Thanks for checking in! I hope you as well have a lovely day <3

[yutahoes]

Father’s Day

A simple and late Father’s Day AU for my most favorite Yuta of all. This picture just screams dad! Yuta. And this is written in a whim so please tell me if something is wrong with this. 

pairing : dad! Yuta Nakamoto x mom! Y/N, Shiho, Shinichi

genre : fluff, light smut (Sorry. 😥 but minors can read the first part, just don’t read after the mark)

word count : 1.4k words

warnings : slight boob play(?)

disclaimer : I don’t know anything about lactation or if this was possible but it’s for fiction purposes, so please let this little mistake slip. Again, minors can read the first part and stop on the mark.

Yuta stopped the ignition of the car then took out his keys before taking the duffel bag on the passenger seat and exiting his car while looking at their house. It’s quiet. Weird. Normally, he would hear Shiho’s squeal that her dad is home or his wife telling Shiho to open the door. Sometimes, Shin will add to the mix while crying. So this scenario, with all the lights from the inside closed is new. 

Did something happen? His eyes widened in surprise. Wait, nothing bad happened right? 

Quickly, with his heart beating wildly against his chest, he opened the door and heard a loud popping sound that made him plop to the ground. He could see the living room lights opened, Y/N near the lights while Shin was seated on his high chair, rubbing his eyes at the sudden light. Shiho was holding a small popper, staring at him. “What are you doing on the floor, daddy?” 

He glanced at his wife but she just stared at him in confusion. “You just surprised me. I thought…” He stopped then shook his head, eyeing the banner with Shiho’s handwriting saying ‘Happy Father’s Day’ in Japanese and the food on the small center table. “What’s this? “

Shiho cleared her throat before opening a piece of paper and reading the words written inside, “Chichinohi omedetou, daddy! (Happy Father’s Day, daddy!)” Yuta chuckled when she continued, “Kazukuno tameni itsumo ganbatte kurete arigatou. (Thank you for working so hard always for our family)” He smiled at her broken yet improving Japanese. The younger breathed hard before looking up from the paper then at the older girl, “Mommy, help. This is so long.” 

Yuta laughed as Y/N chuckled while walking to where Shiho is. “No worries.” He said while standing up, kissing the top of the younger’s head then his wife before carrying the mumbling Shin in his arms. “Did mommy teach you that, baby?” She nodded then sat beside her dad on the couch. Y/N disappeared to the kitchen while he read the contents of the paper Shiho was reading earlier. “You’re getting better at Japanese.”     

“Arigatou gozaimasu, otou-san. (Thank you, daddy.)” She reappeared with a large plate of fried rice, crab meat fried rice to be exact. “I helped mommy cook that.” She pointed at the food just as she placed takoyaki next to the rice. “And that too.” 

Yuta was astounded. This was all his favorite food. “Mommy can’t cook.” He teased and the older just grinned at him. 

“We called obaasan and she helped us. She even told me what to say.” Yuta smiled. Of course. Why isn’t he surprised? “Do you like our present daddy?” 

Shin kept on mumbling ‘papa’ while smiling at him, making Yuta nod. “This is the best Father’s Day ever.” Once again, he kissed Shiho’s head when she squealed in delight. “But you don’t have to do this, it’s lots of work. Every day for me is Father’s Day.” The younger girl looked at him in confusion. “I became a father because of you and Shin so seeing you everyday is already a present.” He crushed both kids in a hug that made the two children giggle.

Y/N stared at him in admiration and he winked when her eyes caught his. "Mommy, the cake." Shiho reminded that made her quickly sprang up from her seated position on the floor and disappeared to the kitchen again. 

"Mommy made the cake as well?" 

Shiho laughed. "We bought it in the store." 

The meal was so good and Yuta was happy that both Shiho and Shin liked the foods he also loved, especially the green tea cake. He volunteered in washing dishes while Y/N tuck the kids to sleep. Once done, he entered the room where Y/N is calming down the crying Shin. “Do you need help?” She shook her head, opening the top buttons of her blouse to give Shin his food. “I’ll get some shower first.” The girl nodded before focusing on the younger child in her arms. 

Once done, he saw her just placing Shin in the crib beside their bed. He was wiping his wet hair with a towel then sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her on his lap. “What?” She asked but Yuta just shook his head. Y/N stood up then sat back on his lap, her body facing his. She took the towel and started wiping his hair. “Busy?”

“Just some preparations.” He held her waist, watching as she focused on her task. “Thank you for the celebration.” She smiled. “The food was great. Better than last year’s.” 

She let go of the towel then held his shoulders. “That’s good. I have to be better since you’re the best dad ever.” He pulled her closer by the waist then gave her a kiss on the cheek. “What was it? Kazukuno…” He didn’t let her finish and just leaned in to kiss her. 

There’s something in him that stirs up when she speaks his native language. He remembered when he introduced her to his parents and she was struggling to speak Japanese but he knew back then that he wanted her to be the mother of his future children. “Thank you, Y/N.” She gave him a confused look. “I wouldn’t enjoy being a dad if it wasn’t for you. This day wouldn’t even mean so much to me without you. Thank you for giving me Shiho and Shin.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him that his head was nuzzled on her chest. “You are the best daddy ever, I hope you know that.” 

---------------- (minors can stop reading until here, I’m sorry)  ----------------

Yuta smirked when she let go of the hug. It’s funny that she’s calling him daddy once again. “Why is your blouse wet?” He asked in worry, noticing the wet spot on her chest. She explained that it was the milk and that she just needed to pump it so it won’t hurt. “Does it happen often? This is the first time I saw this.” 

“Shin must be full so he didn’t drink all the milk and just slept.” She shook her head. “I’ll just get the breast pump…” 

But he prevented her from standing up, “I hope Shin wouldn’t hate me if I share his food.” The look of confusion on her face was quickly replaced with surprise when he started unbuttoning her blouse. Yuta’s eyes were focused on her breasts that is wet with milk before kissing the side of her right breast. “I miss this.” 

A moan escaped her lips when his tongue darted out and swiped against her nipples. His mouth suckled on her breast, tongue licking the nipple. His hand trailed on her back, the other fondling her left breast. His tongue circled and lapped at her swollen nipple. She could even feel the milk flowing from the breast, to her nipple, to her husband’s mouth. Y/N’s fingers thread on Yuta’s hair, her other hand holding his shoulder as she gasps at the arousing sensation. 

Yuta smiled against her breast, feeling her body tense up at the pleasure. Why haven’t they done this before? She tastes so sweet and he’s suddenly jealous that his son is enjoying this sweetness from her everyday. He moved to the other breast, fondling the other he just dried up. Why are breasts so soft? It feels like they will melt in his hand. 

“Mommy!” Both of them froze when Shiho opened the door. “I can’t sleep.” She then stopped. “What are you doing?”

Y/N turned her head to the side to look at her, careful not to turn her body to face the door. “I’m just hugging daddy.” She tried to push Yuta but his mouth is still latched on her breast, eager to get all the milk from her left breast. “Daddy will be there to sing you to sleep.” 

She rubbed her eyes, muttering an okay before leaving the room and closing the door gently. A heavy breath escaped her lips followed by a squeal when Yuta lightly bit on the nipple. Y/N lightly slapped his shoulder when he let go of her breasts after kissing each of them. “I’ll throw your breast pump and hope that Shin can share some milk with me.” Again, a slap followed by a laughing fit. “I’ll tuck Shiho to sleep and continue this.” 

She glanced at her breasts, lightly squeezing them. “I think I’m all out of milk.” 

Yuta lightly carried her gently to bed, kissing her lips before standing up. “Milk isn’t the only thing I can suck from you.” She gasped in surprise as he chuckled, winking at her before opening the door to the room, “Wait for daddy, hmm?” 

------------------------------------------

Hi Yuta, if you’re reading this I’m ready to conceive your Shiho Nakamoto and celebrate with you next year. 🤣🤣

[deducingcircumference]

Fic: The Science of Deduction, the Art of Seduction Chapter 1

Rating: G (this chapter only)

Tags (for this chapter only): Canon-typical violence

Summary: At twenty-four, Mouri Ran is a journalist at a national newspaper. Kudo Shinichi is one of the best detectives in Japan. They have never met.

When they do, sparks fly — the kind that burn down a city and everything in it.

Author’s Notes I am hugely grateful to @mirrorfalls and @gisachi​ for initial brainstorming and cheerleading, as well commenting on intermediate drafts. Some of the phrasing is directly theirs. Thank you! This is for both of you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

RAN

“Toast for breakfast again?”

Ran fixes her father with a glare. “Who went to the racetrack yesterday, got drunk because he lost, and forgot to bring home the rice?”

“I thought we still had a little left!”

“I used it for today’s bentos,” Ran retorts.

“I didn’t realize we were that low,” he grumbles back. He dumps his natto onto a slice of toast and takes a big bite.

Ran sighs. “Don’t forget tonight, okay? And the vinegar.”

“Got it, got it. Leave it to me.”

Her father goes downstairs to the detective agency after breakfast while Ran washes up. Then she heads to work, two train transfers and a ten-minute walk. Her phone begins to buzz as the escalator disgorges her from the heated station and into the morning chill.

“Hello? Mom?”

“Good morning, Ran. About lunch tomorrow, I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule. I do know this is the fourth time—”

“Fifth.”

“Fifth. But there’s a client who absolutely needs that time slot. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Okay, okay,” Ran sighs. “I get it, Mom. We can have lunch the same time next week.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” Kisaki Eri hangs up.

The newsroom of the Asayomi Shimbun is housed on the fourteenth floor of a massive office building. Some of its thousand-some staff are already there, taking calls, typing up articles, or just flitting about when Ran enters.

“Great work on the Kirima-Kona engagement article, Mouri-kun,” says Ran’s managing editor, a thin, blonde woman named Santemillion, passing by as Ran’s hanging up her coat. “We highlighted it in this morning’s section,” she says.

“Thank you, it’s an honor! Um, did you think about the article I pitched?”

“Yes, it’s an interesting idea, but it doesn’t quite fit in Culture and Society. You should tell the Moroboshi-san about it, though,” she says, meaning the Crime editor, “I’m sure he can find someone to follow up on it. You should be focused on cracking the Matsubishi infidelity story, anyway. It seems like you’re getting close.”

Ran hitches her smile higher. Culture and Society is mostly celebrity gossip and breaking scandals, and it’s true that she’s good at weaseling information out of secretive celebrities and tight-lipped scions. But writing for Culture and Society notoriously leads to only more of the same, and she already feels like she’s been writing the same three articles since she started.

She scans a copy of the morning edition when she gets to her desk. The lifestyle sections are in the back, but she flips through the first few pages first. On page five there’s a photo of a grinning man under the headline, “Heisei Holmes Does It Again!”

The smile in the picture is the most cocksure she’s ever seen.

-

SHINICHI

The house is quiet when Shinichi wakes. It’s always quiet.

He brushes his teeth, notes that there are cobwebs in the corners of the bathroom. Which means there are cobwebs in the dining room, the living room, the parlor, his parents’ bedroom, the spare bedrooms, and probably his own, too. Everything but the library and the kitchen.

He scoops up the Asayomi from his doorstep on his way to his car, a sleek black hybrid. The agency is a short drive away, and he gets there the same time Hattori does. The latter jostles Shinichi with his elbow as Shinichi unlocks the door.

“You’re late, Kudo!”

“So are you,” Shinichi retorts.

Hattori moved from Osaka after losing a bet — although the man keeps insisting he let Shinichi win that deduction battle. To which Shinichi always responds that a pair detective agency in Osaka wouldn’t do half as well, anyway.

Their shared office is smaller and more cramped than befits two world-class private eyes. Most of the room is taken up by three squashy armchairs facing each other around a small coffee table, all a little too close for comfort, not that any guest has ever complained. Their two desks are squeezed next to the outer wall, which is mostly window, looking out onto the buildings across and the street below.

Shinichi pours himself a coffee from the sectioned-off kitchenette and sits down at his desk, opening the newspaper to find an article about himself, with quotes he’d given a few days ago. It’s rather flattering. They always are.

On a whim he flips to a random page in the back, one of the ones he rarely reads, the culture and entertainment and sports sections. His eye lands on the highlighted article in Culture and Society, about the engagement of a restauranteur and an actress.

Shinichi reads the whole thing, then pitches the entire newspaper away in disgust. It skids across his desk and cascades into the wastebasket.

“You fine there, Kudo?”

“Who writes this garbage? What a waste of paper! Anyway, you have a lead for that extortion case?”

-

Hattori’s lead is an auctioneer by trade. They trail the man to a grand hall and stand at the very back of a large audience in their tuxedos and cocktail dresses, as their target calls for bids on a calligraphy piece, a Ming Dynasty vase, and an impressively ugly abstract sculpture. Shinichi’s eyebrows raise as the price on the sculpture reaches thirty million yen.

“Thirty one million, do I hear— gkh!”

The auctioneer clutches at his chest. His eyes bulge. He slumps onto the podium.

Shinichi and Hattori leap onto the stage.

It’s a thrilling case, involving a gang of robbers, cyanide ice, extortion, and of course, string and duct tape. They solve it in record time. After the murderer’s confession, Megure pulls Shinichi out to the back lot for some more questions, and Shinichi is happy to provide.

As he’s about to head back in, hand on the doorknob, he stops. There are voices on the other side. One is Hattori’s.

The other says, “Wow, that’s incredible, Hattori-tantei! To think that duct tape can do that!”

The voice is a woman’s — sincere, eager, bright — and it jars every single one of Shinichi’s nerves.

On the other side of the door, Hattori demurs politely, but he sounds both smug and pleased. “Ain’t it, Miss?” Shinichi catches.

“Of course, would you mind going on record with this?”

A reporter. Shinichi swings the door open just as Hattori’s harrumphing, “Ah — sure, but Kudo’s the one you wanna talk to about this one—”

The woman on the other side is younger than he expects, brown hair bound up in a long ponytail, semi-professional attire of a blouse tucked into slacks. She’s holding a notepad and a pen, and currently has shining violet eyes turned toward Shinichi’s partner. Shinichi’s irritation spikes.

“Press isn’t allowed here, whoever you are. Besides,” he adds snidely, “he’s taken.”

“Here he is now!” Hattori says. “Be nice,” he says to Shinichi.

He doesn’t have to remind Shinichi of that. Shinichi can handle the press. Shinichi is amazing with the press. Shinichi can charm interviewers in his sleep. But this overeager, cloying reporter sets him on edge.

She swings around to face him fully, and he sees that she’s only his age — and that she’s absurdly, unacceptably beautiful.

As his mind almost blanks, she asks angrily, “Do you always assume the worst of people?”

He pulls himself together. “I don’t assume,” he says simply. “I know. For example,” he begins, taking in her neat but old clothing, her bare fingers, the faint scent of bleach in her clothes, “you live with your father, who is a habitual drunk, and do most of the housework.”

The act of deduction steadies him. Her eyes widen as he steps closer. The usual response. He puts his hands in his pockets, remembering the way her gaze skittered around the chalk outline of the corpse.

“You’re terrified of dead bodies, so either you’re not a crime reporter, or you’re new to the beat.” She’s wearing an expensive wristwatch, at odds with the rest of her person. “Your mother is the wealthy one, but she doesn’t have time for you, and blows you off with expensive presents.” Behind the reporter’s back, Hattori’s doing something strange, flapping his hands at Shinichi like a wounded duck, but Shinichi ignores him. “So,” he continues, musing, “she can’t care much about y—” and it’s then he realizes he’s missed something big.

Professional-level martial artist, his brain supplies, as the room sails past and agony bursts from somewhere around his solar plexus. He goes straight through the police tape, lands on his ass, and skids three more meters across the stage.

“Kudo!” Hattori shouts, running over as Shinichi doubles up on the floor, gasping like a fish. He hears stomping footsteps.

“H-hey, neechan,” Hattori’s voice says nervously from somewhere above him. Then Hattori gulps.

He looks up. The reporter looms over him, her expression ominous.

But suddenly her face softens and she’s eye level with him, crouched down. “Are you alright?” She sounds genuinely concerned.

What does she think? He’s on the floor clutching his ribcage, and she’s the one who hit him!

“Let me see,” she says, and hands push gently in the area of his wounded middle. While Shinichi clenches his teeth against each pat, she says, “I’m Mouri Ran. Reporter for Asayomi News. You’re Kudo Shinichi, aren’t you? I’ve seen your picture in the paper.”

Shinichi’s brain works. “Mouri… Ran?” He tries to remember where he knows that name from, but the pain is making it hard to think. Then he remembers. “Gossip. Pointless… drivel.”

When her hands withdraw and her brows lower thunderously, Shinichi realizes he’s made another mistake. He flinches, squeezing his eyes shut.

He waits ten seconds. Twenty.

Something pokes his cheek. “Hey, Kudo.”

Shinichi cracks open an eye. To Hattori’s mirthful mug; the man looks like he’s trying his best not to laugh. The violent reporter — Mouri Ran — is nowhere to be seen.

“Those were some… interestin’ word choices there,” Hattori says.

“She’s gone?” Shinichi mumbles.

“Stormed out,” Hattori says, offering a hand to help him to a sitting position.

Shinichi takes it. His middle hurts, a lot. “Good riddance,” he wheezes.

-

RAN

Kudo Shinichi. An arrogant, heartless, high-handed bastard.

She looks him up in the Asayomi archives as soon as she gets back. There are eight clippings, dating back twenty-four years to a birth announcement in Culture and Society. She reads all of them and learns that both his parents are minor celebrities, that he grew up jet-setting around the world, and that he’s made a name for himself as a private investigator after coming back to Japan.

“Ooh, handsome, isn’t he?” another Culture and Society reporter gushes, breezing in from nowhere to plop down at the table Ran’s spread the clippings out on. Suzuki Sonoko, one-time heiress to a mind-boggling corporate empire, now Ran’s fellow newswoman and best friend. (“I like gossip!” she’d said of her career choice, grinning.)

“If only he were anything besides handsome!” Ran returns. A thought occurs to her. “Have you met him?” Sometimes Sonoko knows the rich and famous, just by dint of being rich herself.

“No, but I saw him at a KID heist once! Are you doing a piece on him?”

“As if! Who’d want to report on this egomaniac?” Ran flips to another clipping that’s just half a page of Kudo Shinichi’s cocky grin.

“Hmm,” says Sonoko meaningfully. Then, “Well, he is good-looking.”

Ran looks up from her idle consideration of Kudo’s cheekbones. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, all kinds of celebrity connections come in handy in Culture and Society, right? Just, like, don’t get hurt.”

It takes a while for Sonoko’s meaning to percolate. When it does, Ran almost whites out from mortification. “He’s the smarmiest, least-deserving jerk I’ve ever met,” she says flatly. “I want nothing to do with him!”

“Sorry, sorry! Whatever you say!”

“Anyway,” Ran continues optimistically, “It’s not like I’ll ever see him again, right?”

Sonoko giggles. “Well, you never know!”

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

More author notes: That’s Chapter 1! I make no promises regarding an update schedule.

NSFW chapters will be posted solely to AO3, but all updates will be announced on Tumblr.

AO3 link is in the reblogs, to keep things SFW for ShinRan week.

Have a good day!

[momocicerone]

Christmas boyfriend

also on ffnet | ao3

Fandom: Detective Conan / Case Closed

Summary：And then it hits him that this is actually happening. It’s Christmas and they’ve come all the way to find each other on Fusae’s doorway. And she wants him to stay, and for once he doesn’t have a reason to hold himself back, for once he might actually have a chance.

Holy shit.

Pairing: Kudo Shinichi | Edogawa Conan & Miyano Shiho | Haibara Ai

Genre and Rating: Romance | T

Prompts: Jealousy, Company (?)

A/N: I got paired with my absolute fave CoAi artist, @n-emone​ , for this year’s Secret Santa Exchange! THE PRESSURE IS ON. The best thing about this? I saw the jealousy prompt and I was like YES, THIS IS RIGHT UP MY ALLEY! I hope you like this Nem!

.

---------------------------

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It's not that he's heartless (what the hell!) or that he doesn’t want to stay, but see, it’s Christmas, and he’s come all the way from Tokyo just to see her, and she’s here, yes, looking as beautiful as ever with her sun kissed skin and her strawberry blonde hair covered in falling snowflakes that he wishes he could brush off with the warmth of his fingers — but she’s here with him , and the mere idea of enduring a week under the same roof, watching them kiss under mistletoes and cuddling on the cozy lover’s couch in front of the only fireplace in the house, is frankly distressing enough to make him want to eat his own entire hat. 

Like he would literally rather choke on his shoe than be subjected to that, thank you very much. 

Then she frowns at him and gives him that look, that mix of hurt and total disappointment that feels way too familiar, and he knows right then and there that he’s utterly fucked . Because she, Shiho Miyano, with her icy-cold stares and snide remarks savage enough to bring heroes tumbling down to their knees, holds a piece of his heart so tightly in her hands that he can hear it crush into a million tiny pieces when she catches his sleeve.

“You just got here.” 

"I know.” He almost whispers, and suddenly the soft Christmas lights glowing happily on Fusae’s porch seem like the perfect thing to fixate his gaze upon.“I can’t stay, though. I’m sorry.”

“Is something the matter?” Intuitive as always, the scientist leans forward, trying to meet his eyes and making it just that much harder for him to focus on the festive decoration when her face is literally inches apart from his. Her fingers dig deeper into his down jacket, warmth spreading over him in ways that shouldn’t bother him like it does — but it does, God, it does. To him, she might as well be made of sun and starlight. 

“No.” He says hastily, snapping out of his reverie before she can see through him, and ventures a crooked smile that somehow feels disingenuous. “I have to go.”

“Don’t lie to me, Kudo.”

The accusation takes him by surprise, and his poor excuse of a smile immediately turns into a wince. 

“I’m not lying!” He insists, so frantic in his effort to sound convincing that he accidentally knocks his own beanie sideways. 

She tilts her head and looks at him, incredulous. Her deadpan glare manages to make him feel more like a kicked puppy than any ill-willed reproach he’s ever heard. Slowly, she lets go of his sleeve, and he hates how the warmth of her touch still lingers on his sleeve, making every cell of his body scream baby, come back .

“You should stay." Shiho presses, so matter-of-factly it comes out as almost demanding. “Come on, you just got off the plane. Aren’t you tired?”

Tired is an understatement: He’s drained, empty, positively done and out of fucks to give. 

Ah, but he can’t tell her that. He can’t tell her that he flew across to globe to expressly shove a Christmas present he haphazardly picked up from the airport into her hands, because he needed an excuse to see her and the golden box sitting in his drawer since July is a bit out of season and too much of a giveaway of just how freaking bad he’s got it for her. There’s a line, you see — an invisible wall that keeps him on his side of the scale, and he can’t cross it lest he’d ruin the balance of whatever is left of their friendship. Losing his pride, his heart, he can deal with. Losing her... not so much.

“I’m fine.” He tries to laugh it off, and his eyes seem fonder now he’s gathered the courage to actually look at her. “Tell Hakase I’m sorry I couldn’t wait for him to come back.”

Shiho wrinkles her nose disapprovingly, her lips jutting out in a pout. “Hey, you tell him that yourself! I’m not your errand girl anymore. ”

This time he actually does chuckle in good faith, fighting back the urge to either ruffle her hair or sweep the loose strands of strawberry blonde away from her face. He curls his fists into balls instead, burying them deep into his pockets. It’s not his place. Really.

“Come on, don’t be like that. Help me out.”

Just as she’s about to protest, the front door opens and the object of his affliction walks out with the most punchable smile he’s ever seen on anyone’s face.

“ Babe ,” Higo calls her softly, and Shinichi has to refrain himself from barfing right then and there. The soccer star nods politely at him, and the detective’s lips twist into a weird grimace as he jerks back his head in a pathetic attempt of a greeting. Her boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice or care, promptly switching her attention back to Shiho. “Can we talk for a second?”

He takes her hand and walks her under the silver maple tree, leaving Shinichi awkwardly standing on the porch like an absolute mofo. There’s just the barest amount of self control left in him that keeps him from scurrying away like a trash panda in the dead of the night, but the chilly night wind carries snippets of their conversation, and his interest piques when he catches hushed words that sound like promised and sorry spoken in a rush. The couple seem to argue for a bit longer, until Shiho finally throws her hands in the air and takes a step back. Higo tries to reach out to her, but she turns around and starts walking back to the house. He calls her name a few times to no avail, before shaking his head and heading in the opposite direction.

Shinichi’s heartbeat inexplicably starts picking up pace as he feels hopeful, and he kinda feels bad, but he kinda doesn’t.

(Is everything really fair in love and war?)

She makes her way back to him, a frown on her face and her arms tightly wrapped around her chest. A new flock of fresh snowflakes nest merrily between her reddish-brown curls, adamant not to fall even when she tries to brush them off under the warm-lit porch. Seeing her struggle, Shinichi helps.

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah. Anyway — ”

“No, hey — ” Shinichi’s hand, now tangled in her hair, moves to cup her cheek so she can face him. “Tell me what’s going on. Is he leaving?”

“Mhm… he, um — he has to be somewhere else.”

“Right before Christmas Eve?” 

Shiho throws him a pointed look that reads look who’s talking!

“Oi, that’s different!” Shinichi protests, feeling defensive and frankly a bit offended by her silent accusation. It’s not as if he ever had a choice, after all. She had been the one with that kind of privilege and she chose Higo instead, and he’s honestly still very much bitter about it, but whatever. “I’m not— he’s your boyfriend. He’s supposed to be here.”

Her face does a little grimace at his remark, looking somewhat apologetic. “Ah, about that…”

“What about it?”

“Eh, it’s nothing important.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Shiho.” He throws her words right back at her, and that effectively pisses her off in return.

“It’s none of your business!”

“Fine.” 

He turns around, and takes one step off the porch. 

“Hey!” She reaches out in haste, grasping his shoulder, his scarf, his arm. Her grip so tight it presses through the many layers of his winter coat and warms his entire being. “Don’t you be a jerk too!”

“Tell me what’s going on, then.” He demands while holding her indignant stare.

She huffs, but gives in. Her voice is barely a peep, but he swears he hears her say, “We’re not … together anymore.”.

Okay, maybe he’s just hallucinating or something.

“Pardon?”

“We broke up. Ryuu and I broke up. Are you happy now?”

Yes is the obvious answer but honestly there are more pressing matters he needs to address, for example asking, “S-Since when!?”

“Uh… a few weeks ago, actually.”

And then it hits him that this is actually happening. It’s Christmas and they’ve come all the way to find each other on Fusae’s doorway. And she wants him to stay, and for once he doesn’t have a reason to hold himself back, for once he might actually have a chance.

Holy shit.

“Wait, but why did you bring him along, then?”

Shiho lets out a soft groan as she looks absolutely mortified. “Hakase thinks we’re getting married.” She explains, “I think he’s at that age where he wants grandchildren. I just ... I don’t know how to break the news to him. Not on Christmas. I was hoping to tell him after New Year’s so he wouldn’t be mopping for the end of the year.”

“That sucks.” Shinichi says, his smile so bright he couldn’t look more insincere. 

“Don’t laugh! Seriously, you’re an idiot.”

“I’m not — I’m sorry. Heh .” Ah, but the truth is that he isn’t sorry. Not one bit. “He wasn’t good enough for you anyway.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smirk on her lips that tells him she’s in much better spirits than she was a few minutes ago. 

“Kudo, by your standards, nobody’s ever good enough.”

“That’s not true, there’s… people you just haven’t considered yet.”

And at this point he’s like dropping hints that he’s single, but whatever, the news is fantastic and his serotonin levels sky high.

She snorts a bit incredulously, “I’d like to see that list, If you have one.”

He pretends to check his pockets, and looks disappointed when they come out empty. “Sorry, I must have sent it to Santa by mistake.”

“Oh?” Shiho’s brow arch, “That should make quite an interesting gift this year, then.”

“Oh. Ah, well. Since Higo is gone now, do you — erm,” Shinichi bites on his lower lip, heat crawling up his cheeks as he’s feeling both incredibly stupid and positively hopeful. He starts over again, “Do you need a Christmas boyfriend?”

She blinks at him, then proceeds to curl her fist against her mouth, muffling a soft chuckle. “It depends, um,” Her eyes roll to the side, and he marvels when her cheeks turn the loveliest shade of pink,  “Does he come with an expiry date?”

Shinichi’s smile widens at her question. He’s overcome with a sense of joy he hasn’t felt in so long, it almost prompts him to laugh. He clears his throat instead.  “Not if you scratch the Christmas part.”

Shiho hums in acknowledgment, her lips curling into a cheeky smirk. She takes a step closer as she lets her fingers entangle in his blue checkered scarf. With her best impression of innocence and a doe-eyed gaze, she cues, “Return policies?”

Shinichi’s gloved hand closes around hers, gone any intention of ever letting go. He brings her fingers to brush against his lips.

“Life warranty. No returns.”

--

A/N: Holy S H I T  did i just bring them together in a fic WITHOUT a love confession, o H  MY   G O D  * wails and screams while leaping off several cliffs * i am as surprised as you are my dudes. Well, my beta didn't really like the original ending which was an open, inconclusive one so you can thank her for the extra cheese at the end \o/

Wishing everyone Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, please don't forget to support fellow CoAi creators by reviewing/commenting and reblogging our stuff!

[shelling4869ford]

Patchwork

Hello my dear @deducingcircumference  I was your @dcmksecretsanta​ this year! I decided to go for your idea about the Mori family, I really hope you’ll like it! I had fun writing it, even though it was a lot harder than I thought. I’m sorry that I wasn´t able give it to my beta before, I’ll repost it once it’s corrected. Still, I hope you’ll like it! Have am merry, healthy and nice Christmas and a happy new year!

~ Shelling

Patchwork

 He should have known better.

These past day’s the doorbell had only caused him trouble and pain.

Why had he even believed that it would be different this time?

Megure however, couldn’t care less for Kogoro’s grumpy face.  

“His parents are still dealing with the FBI and the Professor has his own little problem right now. He can´t stay in the police department any longer, it would only raise further suspicions.” Megure swallowed, that was something he really didn´t want to deal with, on top of everything right now. However, he wasn´t sure if this really had been the best idea.

His former college looked at him like he’d gone crazy.

“So, you dump him here of all places?” Mori growled, didn´t care about his tone, while he spoke with his former boss. Megure sighed, looking behind his shoulder where the “boy” had only filched beneath Kogoro’s  voice. The officer rolled his eyes, he’d been through this question before, even though it had been the asked in a much higher voice.

The officer took a deep breath and shook his head.

“He’s in no condition to help right now, and neither are you.”

“I have to go back to the hospital! I need to-“  

“You have to wait until visiting hours tomorrow.” Megure interrupted Kogoro’s argument.

He sighed, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I know you’re worried Mori-kun, but there’s nothing you can do for her right now, but you can take care of one another.” Megure swallowed, finally taking a step aside to reveal the grad schooler who’d been hiding behind his legs.

Kogoro took a sharp breath and despite his anger he could feel something inside him stirring at the sight of the “boy”.  However, the detective desperately tried to ignore it, it couldn´t be more than the rising bile in his throat, looking at the lying freeloader.

Conan- or rather Shinichi Kudo didn´t dare to look up. At least the kid seemed to have a little bit of a conscience left. Kogoro knew what happed and why, after his kids – kid- his lovely Ran had gone missing, the truth had slowly come to light. And now Co- Kudo was standing here, asking him to take him in for the night, while his little baby girl was still in the hospital. Alright, she wasn´t frighting for her life- at least not when he believed in the doctor’s words, but she still wasn´t waking up, since a heavy blow to the head, while  tried to help…him. 

The one who had lied to them for over a year, who used them and ignored her tears, being here and safe and fine, while she was still in medical care.

Well fine might have been a little exaggerate.

Actually, he looked more like death warmed over, after he destroyed a whole criminal organization. Even through the brat didn´t dare to look him in the eyes he could see that they where bloodshot, with dark circles beneath them, seeming even deeper due his pale complexion. His hand’s where bandaged, his glasses where broken and a little voice inside Kogoro wondered why no one had told him to put them down. Damn! Couldn´t they see that it was dangerous, the boy could easily lose an eye when the glass- ah but why should he care, he didn´t that’s for sure.

Mori bit his lips and shook his head while his gaze traveled down the boy’s legs, one being places in a walking cast to stabilize it, but even if he tried to hide it, Kogoro could still see that the kid was in pain, clearly favoring his left leg.

“Alright…” Megure’s tone ripped him from his analysis.

“I’ll leave the two of you alone now…” The officer tired to catch the boy’s eyes, but the shrunken detective who’d surprised them all didn´t dare to rise his galnce. So Megure briefly placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder. He was about to leave when he stopped close enough to Kogoro, to make one last request in a low voice.

“… and Mori-kun,… he’s already broken, so please try not to hurt him further.” Kogoro took a sharp breath, ready to protest when his eyes shifted back to the silent child in front of him.

‘Damn right he is.’ A voice inside him seemed to scream, while he watched Megure disappear at the end of the stairs. He couldn´t believe what the man was asking of him, after everything. He grumbled, but when his eyes reached the bruised body of the kid again, he couldn´t help but frown at the slight tremble in the little clenched fists.

Kogoro could feel the emotions inside him shift, putting pressure on his chest. He desperately wanted to believe that it was just anger he felt, but he knew that there was something else hiding in it’s mist. It couldn’t be guilt or worry- even through the boy had lived with them for so long, it wasn´t his job to protect him, he wasn´t his father aft all.

But yet-

“I’m sorry..” the soft voice froze him on the spot, but it where his next word’s or rather the name the boy used that finally brought him back to reality.

“I’m truly sorry Mori-san.”

Right.

Conan = Kudo

Not foster son, but little lying bastard.

He had to remember that.

The boy swallowed, finally finding the courage to look up, but Kogoro had already turned his back to him, climbing the stairs. Shinichi bit his lips, trying again, but Mori stopped him before he could finish his sentence.

“I-“

“Don´t, I don´t want to hear it.”

Mori hissed, taking the last steps to their- to his home and closed the door behind him.

XXX

The beer tasted foul.

It was his first that day- alright his third, but the first one since Megure had dumped the little freeloader at his doorstep. Being kicked out from the hospital, had left him with the urge to drink, to fill his mind with cotton so that the reality would drift far away. But he denied himself to be numbed by alcohol, he had to remain sharp if the hospital called, so he instead called his wife to update her. However, it seemed Eri had already known and of course this woman believed in the nurse words, that she would be alright, that there was no actual damage to her brain and that she simply was exhausted. Exhausted, his Ran, strong and brave, exhausted to the bone. He couldn't believe it, he wished he could, but the fear of losing her filled his mind with cruel pictures.

And it was all his fault.

"Damn brat..." he growled, taking another sip from his stale beer. Days ago he'd been worried when the boy had suddenly disappeared, he couldn't deny it... Since the not-child had been living with them for little over a year now. Of course, he wasn't found of him, he didn't care... why would he? Conan wasn't his son, nope, no way he dared to think of him as his own flesh and blood.

But he couldn´t help to admit that he’d been worried about the boy, before the constructure of lies slowly crumbled around him, he’d struggled to believe it in the beginning, the brat being that high school detective, hiding under their roof all those times.

“And I didn´t even notice, the great detective Mori… pff…”

Kogoro sighed, his eyes wandered from his beer to the clock, before they moved to the front door, which he might have left slightly ajar, by pure accident of course. It nearly been three hours since Megure had dropped Kudo here and he couldn´t help but wonder what the boy might be up to.  But why should he care anyway? It’s not like the great “Shinichi Kudo” wasn’t able to take care of himself, he could be lucky that he hadn´t thrown him out. However….

The sleeping detective chewed on his mustache, they way the kid had looked it would only be responsible to make sure he’s fine, besides so he could make sure that the boy wasn´t messing with his case files- Yes! That was it! He had to make sure that everything was still in place and the kid wasn´t messing up his work.  With that thought Kogoro nodded to himself, rising from his seat before he headed for the stairs.  

The office was dark, but the door was closed now and he was sure he left it open when he’d turned his back to Kudo. Could it be- that he’d left?

With a frown on his face the detective stepped into his agency, still no sigh of live, or of the boy, everything seemed to be like he left it. Kogoro was on his way to his desk, when he finally spotted the little boy on one of the two sofa’s he normally used to talk to his clients.

Conan – no Kudo was asleep, but it didn´t seemed to be a peaceful rest. Mori swallowed, he knew that sigh, the kid was having a nightmare. Not the first he was about to whiteness, but now that he knew that he wasn´t a mere child, shouting his, or most of the time Ran’s name at night he couldn´t help but wonder.

Kogoro barely knew Shinichi, especially since his separation with Eri they hadn´t met the Kudo’s quite so often, before they left Japan. What he knew was, that the boy had a bad influence on his daughter, not to mention that he’d hurt her, disappearing just like that, leaving her in the dark, lying to her while he was right beside her all this time. So maybe it was the kid’s own conscience hunting him at night. But the way the boy tossed and turned in his sleep told him that there was more to it.

The detective made a face when the child suddenly yelped in his sleep, twisting his bruised body around without much care. Kudo was facing him now, even though he was still asleep. Kogoro’s hand twitched, in the attempt to rip the broken glasses from his face, before it could hurt him any further.

With a sigh he took a step towards the boy, slowly shaking his shoulder, even if his voice wasn´t as soft as it normally was, when he tried to wake the brat from one of his nightmares.

“Oi! Co- Kudo-kun! Wake up!” But like so many times before the touch on his shoulder only seemed to stress the little one even more. Conan twisted and turned in his sleep, not caring for his obvious bruised body. Kogoro’s throat grew tight, it was hard not to pick the child up to carry him into his bed, while muttering some calming thoughts into his ears.

“It’s just a dream.” He told him instead, trying to reach for the boy again, but when Kogoro’s fingers touched him, the boy flinched away from his touch, jerking backwards so that his already bruised shoulder hit the back of the couch.  Mori gasped when new blood seemed to break through the bandages and his shirt, all caution forgotten he bent down to the kid, cradling his upper body in his arms, while Conan still struggled in his touch.

“Hey don´t, you’ll just hurt yourself further!” The detective hissed, before he pulled the boy closer to himself, brushing some grime from his forehead.

“It’s alright… easy, Conan-kun.” His voice was gentle now and finally his breath grew even and he stopped to struggled in his arms.

“Come on now, wake up, everything’s alright.”  Kogoro assured the child, who finally stirred one hand searching for the man’s sleeves. He blinked with eyes still heavy from sleep and the nightmare, before he murmured something that made Mori’s chest grew warm and tight at the same time. “O-Othosan…”

Kogoro took a sharp breath, it wasn´t the first time the brat called him that by accident, but while he usually tried to ignore his fluttering heart as well as the words, when he put the kid back to sleep he couldn´t help but feel like he’d been frozen to the spot, unsure what to do. The boy suddenly looked not only broken but also even more tiny and vulnerable in his hands. Luckily the shrunken detective came to his senses before Kogoro had to decide what to do.

Conan blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but hissed when he moved his shoulder. Kogroro could actually see how he finally caught up with the situation, struggling out of his arms, with the hint of a red on his cheeks.

“Ojisan… huh- ah um Mori-kun.”

There back to normal.

Kogoro took a breath in relive, before he eyed the boy, who still looked up at him. The detective rose and eyebrow, taking a step away from the child both of them ignoring what just happed. He cleared his throat, looking down at the brat.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”  He grumbled, but the boy blushed again, blinking in surprise before he seemed to search the answer on the floor.

“Uh- sleeping?” Mori raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Well boya, but not in my office.” Conan flinched, but Kogoro already took a step towards the door.

“Come on, get up.” The grad schooler obeyed, but Shinichi wasn´t sure if he was supposed to leave or just supposed to follow. But his doubt should soon be answered by Kogoro’s annoyed voice.

“What you’re waiting for?” The older detective asked, opening the door before he nodded upstairs.

“I-uhm, I’m coming.” 

Conan hurried up the stairs as best as he could and he could sense that it took Mori some strength not to hurry or maybe even carry him. But when he finally entered the place he’d called home for so long he took a deep breath, only now getting aware that he’d in fact missed it. But Kogoro cleared his throat pointing to their small dining table.

“Here sit down, I’ll see If I can prepare you something to eat.”  

“But you don`t have to!” Shinichi assured, while Mori just rolled his eyes, disappearing in the kitchen, almost shouting from the other room to answer the ridiculous request of the boy.

“Apparently I do since your folks still dealing with this secret organization and Megure decided to dump you here.” The grad schooler winced but the detective was too busy in the kitchen to notice.

“Besides, when was the last time you’ve eaten something?” Kogoro questioned, when he entered the living room again. He looked at the bruised boy, who looked more dead than alive on his feet.  

“I- uh-“ But the growl of his stomach answered for him.

Conan – Shinichi – the brat, jeez he still had trouble with that, just blushed when his stomach growled in protest of the lie that he was about to tell him.

“I see.”

Conan finally sat down at the table, staring holes into it, it just didn´t feel right, Mori should be fuming in anger at him, not trying to take care of him. However, the boy didn´t notice that Kogoro had moved behind him, before he took the broken glasses form his face. Honestly if he had to see the shade of glass nearly piercing the boy’s eyes any longer he would go crazy.  

“I’ll take these for a while- since you apparently don´t need them.” Mori told him, but when he finally looked down at the kid without the simplest of all disguises, he couldn´t help but wonder what a fool he’d been. How could he not have notice how much the brat looked like the annoying high school detective.

Kudo seemed to notice the eyes on the sleeping detective on his skin and took a shivering breath.  

“Oji- I mean Mori-kun, I’m-“ But Kogoro cut in between his sentence with a sigh and the shake of his head, before he could continue.

“I know… that’s not what you planned to happen.” The detective muttered, while he moved into the kitchen where a very familiar chirm told him, that the brat’s food was ready. He returned with the food and put it on the table with a little bit more force than necessary.  

“Yet I can´t believe that you thought that Ran, that we would be safe with you living under our very roof.” He growled, while Shinichi just seemed to be sinking deeper into his seat.

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing kid, I know why you did it and…” He remembered the nightmare, as well as the others before, Conan seemed to read his thoughts since he moved his gaze away from him.

“I know it might have not been easy at times, but I’m still angry at you, and my poor Ran-“

The name alone however, was enough to move Conan’s eyes back to the older detective.

“Any news? About Ran I mean.” The detective swallowed at the despair in the kid’s voice.

“She’ll been fine, she’s just exhausted and needs some rest.”

“What? R-Really?” Conan’s voice was high pitched, he looked at the detective in disbelieve.  Kogoro suppressed a chuckle, and the urge to ruffle the kid’s hair who suddenly looked like the child he was supposed to be, with big shining eyes.

“ Yeah and now don´t worry and eat.”

Conan took a breath in relive before he turned his attention to the “meal” Kogoro had prepared for him- or rather microwaved. A cup of ramen, something he hoped to be rice and he wasn´t sure if the last of the three dishes was a hot chocolate or some kind of sauce.

Apparently Kogoro noticed the kid’s stare, raising an eyebrow at the obvious hesitation.

“What?” Conan flinched, but after a short hesitation Shinichi decided to answer.

“Ah- nothing, nothing… I just- sometimes wonder how you and Kisaki-san survived before Ran took up to cooking.” Shinichi teases with the hint of a smirk on his face.

“Wh- you ungrateful little brat!” Kogoro grumbled.

“Besides, you can be thankful that it was me who put in the Microwave instead of Eri.” The detective added in a lecturing tone.  

“True, otherwise you’d serve me coal.” The older detective smirked, before he remembered that he was supposed to be angry with the brat, so he turned the kid’s head back to the food.

“Pff… now eat- we’re going to the hospital early tomorrow and I need to check that shoulder of yours.”

“It’s fine.” Conan muttered between a spoon full of ramen, but Mori just snorted.

“After everything that happened to you, I Wonder If you even understand the meaning of this word.”

“Oi!” But after a brief glare Shinichi did like he was told, while Kogoro searched his medical cabinet for some new bandages and pain medicine for the size of the boy.

 XXX

 Kogoro took a long shaky breath, he leaned against the cold metal back of the elevator, as he watched how the floor numbers slowly counted higher.  He’d already called early this morning, nothing new, Ran was still sleeping but they expected her to wake any moment now… was that what he was supposed to hear for the rest of his life? Mori felt panic rising in his throat, sure the Doctors told him that she would be find, but he couldn´t help but worry.

The detective bit his lips, his fingers were itching for a cigarette and one glance at the little boy (who still looked kind of creepy without the familiar glasses) told him that Co- Kudo was nervous as well. Even through, he tried to hide it, Kogoro could tell from the tension in his body and his stern gaze to the floor that the kid was freaking out inside. To be honest, even without the bangs beneath his eyes the boy looked pale since they arrived her, with his bandaged hands and the cast he looked more like he should have his own bed in this establishment. After he changed the bandages on his shoulder yesterday, Kogoro had felt sick to the bone when he saw how many scratches and bruises littered the child’s tiny frame.  

 The elevator chirmed suddenly, ripping Mori from his thoughts, when they finally reached the right floor. However, when the door finally opened the detective was met by a familiar face.

“Mori-kun!” A young nurse offered him a welcoming smile.

“Miruna-san, good morning.” Kogoro tried for a smile as well, even though it was a little embarrassed, after his behavior yesterday. But she seemed to ignore the fact that he’d cried, shouted and wept some more in her presence, while she’d reassured him over and over that his daughter was going to be fine. Instead, she focused her attention on the little boy beside him.

“Nice to meet you again! And this must be your son you’d been so worried about yesterday?” She leaned down to the child, offering her hand and a charming smile.

“You must be Conan-kun, right? You shoudln´t disappear like that, your dad was rather worried about you.”

“Uh- he was?”  He looked up to the old man, who deliberately turned his attention away from him, but the redness on his cheeks revealed her words to be true. Shinichi blinked in surprise, still staring up at Kogoro, who cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Well- we should go now.”

“Oh sure, sure! You must be worried about your Neechan, right?” She ruffled his hair and Mori could see how the boy fell back to his old act, smiling brightly at her while Kogoro wondered how the arrogant brat he’d known, had learned to endure such a treatment. But the young nurse didn´t notice the frown on the detective’s face, when she turned back to him.

“She should wake every minute now, her heartrate is higher now, maybe you’ll be able to wake her.” Kogoro nodded.

“Thank you.” She smiled and took their place in the elevator.

“yYu’ll see everything will be alright!”

Mori took a deep breath moving forward to find Ran’s room before Conan’s voice stopped his movements.

“So, you’ve been searching for me?” The boy’s face showed a grin, but his eyes revealed his doubt.

“Don´t get the wrong idea, brat.” Kogoro huffed, rolling his eyes before moving forward.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Shinichi followed Kogoro through the hospital hallways, struggling to keeping up with him, with his short legs and the damn cast.

When Kogoro finally entered his girl’s room he took a relieved breath to see that Ran was indeed fine, even though still asleep. He moved to stand beside her, taking her hand in his own feeling her warm skin beneath his. It took him a few minutes to notice that the boy seemed to be frozen in the doorway, staring at Ran’s sleeping face and the beeping heart monitor beside her.

The detective swallowed, horror was written in the boy’s face and he remembered his first visit to the hospital after he’d shot Eri. He took a deep breath, moving over to the boy, who only noticed him, when he put a hand on the slim shoulder.

“Oi, what’s wrong.”

“I- I-“ The boy stuttered, his body tense beneath his grip.

“Come…” Kogoro assured him, pushing him slowly into the room.

“It’s going to be fine.”

Conan followed him beside the bad, but still keeping his distance, while the worried father slowly brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.

“Ran…”

Both of their hearts skipped when they saw how Ran twitched beneath Kogoro’s fingers, before her eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Oh- Othosan?” Her voice was weak, as she slowly tried to push herself a little more upright in the bad.

“Ran! You’re awake!” Kogoro exclaimed, almost shouting, before he put his arms around his daughter, holding her close before he moved away from her again, to take a closer look at the high schooler.

“How do you feel? Is everything alright? Should I get you a glass of water- or a doctor or-“ Ran chuckled. “I’m fine Othosan!” But her gaze moved from her father to the little boy beside the bad, who didn´t dare to look up at her.

“Shinichi… Conan-kun.” A sad smile moved to her lips, while the boy’s voice was barely more than a whisper, when he finally found the courage to look up.

“Ran… I-“

But Kogoro was not having any of that right now.

“Oh enough of that!” He cut through the suddenly awkward tension.

“You two can talk later and if you want to rip his head of Ran, I’d advise you do it later, since it wouldn’t make much of a difference right now.” He’d advice, earning protest form the boy beside him. “Oi!”

But Kogoro simply ignored him, grabbing the kid from the floor to pull both of his children in a thigh hug. “For now I’m glad the two of you are alright!”

“Othosan!”

“Ojisan!”

But Mori just grinned and the two started to laugh as well, as broken as they all might be, patched up and together, they made a strange but good family.

[doctor-peggy]

Chapter 1 of Chasing Ghosts (Fanfiction)

A Kaito and Shinichi role-swap AU that I have also posted on Ao3.

I hope you enjoy it!

TW: Explicit character death (it is canonical and it is not depicted, but it's mentioned pretty clearly).

Something’s not right. The police are explaining to his mother that it was an accident, but Kaito thinks they’re wrong. Because it can’t be, Kaito knows his father’s show backwards and forwards, and this—this is not how it’s supposed to go. He’s seen his father get out of chains like that in less than three seconds. This time he had a whole thirty.

His stomach churns. His father is not—was not—that careless. There must be some mistake. His father can’t just be gone like this.

“I’m sorry Kaito,” his mother sobs quietly when he tells her this, and Kaito feels completely helpless. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why they’re all saying his father made a mistake. If he can just prove it…

Then what? Will that make his father come back?

For the first time in three hours, Kaito really and truly realizes what it means when they say Kuroba Toichi is dead.

He throws up on the tarmac, and then cries till his throat hurts.

Because this isn’t real. This isn’t real. Something is horribly wrong.

Before they go, the police give Kaito and his mother their condolences one last time, and Kaito is gripped with an overwhelming urge stop them. There is this feeling in his stomach, a feeling that maybe the police don’t quite understand what has happened.

A memory from two hours ago flashes across his mind.

“I saw a man in a black suit before the show!” Kaito yells after the officers as they start to leave. The police detectives only look at him sadly. They tell him, that just because there was someone is wearing black doesn’t mean they’re a bad person. They tell him accidents can happen to anyone. They tell him even his father could make mistakes.

“No!” Kaito insists, “he never makes mistakes like that, he—”

“I’m really sorry, Kaito-kun,” a kind-face police officer cuts in gently, “but your father is really gone. I know it’s really scary, but it’s going to be okay.”

“I know he’s gone!” Kaito tries desperately, for a moment too caught up in the feeling of wrongness to realize what he’s saying, “but it wasn’t an accident! You’re making a mistake! There was this man, and he looked really weird and scary, and like he wasn’t even here for the show and—”

He must have done something, he almost says, but that… that can’t be right either.  Because even at eight years old, Kaito knows that sounds too much like it’s murder. And murders don’t happen to people like Kaito’s father.

He sees some officers turn away, eyebrows creased, hands covering their mouths.

His mother picks him up.

“Let’s go home, Kaito,” she breathes into his ear as new tears start to fall from his eyes.

“It wasn’t an accident,” he mumbles into his mother’s shoulder. If she hears him, she does not say anything.

When he goes to bed that night, body tired from grief and eyes heavy from crying, the feeling in his stomach still isn’t gone. Someone had made a mistake this morning, and Kaito is sure it wasn’t his father. He tosses, kicking the wall even though his mother has told him many times that he’s not supposed to. He clutches his pillow to his face and screams.

There was no accident. Kaito just knows there couldn’t have been. He’s not sure what it means if someone made the accident happen, but finding out scares him less than the idea of letting it go. Because Kaito is right. Something had gone horribly wrong that day, and it had to do with that strange man in the black suit and the black hat.

And if the police detectives aren’t going to believe him, then Kaito will have to prove it himself.

He decides then that he’s going to become a detective. He’s going to become a detective, and solve the case of his father’s murder.

-x-

When he reads about Kuroba Toichi’s death in the newspaper, the strangest feeling crawls up Shinichi’s spine, like he’s met the man before. He turns to his father.

“He was a friend of mine,” his father answers, eyes unreadable, even before Shinichi can ask.

There’s something about his tone that seems… off.

“Tou-san, was it really an accident?” Shinichi hazards.

There is a pause.

“Don’t ask stupid questions Shinichi, of course it was.”

Shinichi frowns. He’s not a detective yet, but even he can tell that his father’s words and the expression on his face don’t match.

“I didn’t know you were friends with a magician,” he forges on, hoping for some clues. His father just smiles a little ruefully.

“We were more like friendly rivals, really”

“Rivals?”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyhow,” he sighs, before turning to Shinichi with a stern look, “now stop asking questions and eat your eggs.”

Shinichi opens his mouth to argue, but his father’s expression says Shinichi’s not going to get any more answers, so he stops himself.

Rivals, he thinks, rolling the word around on his tongue.

He goes his mother next.

“Kuroba Toichi?” she repeats when Shinichi asks her, sounding almost surprised.

Shinichi nods.

“Well, he was a magician, and a very good one at that. Some people said he was even better than the Kaitou KID.”

Shinichi latches onto the new piece of information.

“Who’s Kaitou KID?”

His mother’s lips twitch downwards slightly, like she’s realized something, but then she smiles and ruffles his hair.

She knows something Shinichi thinks, something she doesn’t want to tell me.

“Playing detective, are we?” she teases, hands moving down to pull his cheeks.

Shinichi knows this is a ploy to distract him to get him to stop asking questions, but he wriggles out of her grasp like she expects him to anyway, because he’s not a baby anymore, come on, Kaa-san, and runs to go find Professor Agasa, slamming the main door behind him.

The pieces finally start to come together when he asks the Professor about it.

“Kaitou KID, huh?” he says, rubbing his chin, “Well, he was a jewel thief. Some even said he was the best jewel thief to have ever existed.”

“Why is he called KID?”

“That’s because of your father, actually.”

His father? Why has Shinichi never heard of this before?

“Tou-san?”

“They were rivals, you know?”

Rivals. There it is again. But his father had said that about… Kuroba Toichi?

“How did my father name Kaitou KID?” Shinichi asks, and the Professor tells him the story, oblivious to the cogs turning in Shinichi’s mind.  

Shinichi comes back home in time for lunch, but his father isn’t there.

“He went out for a walk,” his mother supplies, and if she knows anything more than that, she doesn’t let on. Shinichi figures something is up, but lets it go. He’s got his own investigation now.

The next day, he goes to the library and reads everything he can get his hands on about Kuroba Toichi and Kaitou KID. He has two or three working theories, but he needs more information.

Ran, who has tagged along, asks him what he’s doing. He thinks for a second, before turning to her.

“I’m trying find a phantom thief,” he declares.

[gisachi]

OMG! No.19 with my Shinran babies please! Love you!

Thank you for this number, Anons! I have a particular idea stuck in my mind for this one when I first came across the prompts list. So I’m excited to finally write it down.😆 Hope you like it! Fluffy ShinRan ahead! 💞

19. One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss. (1,937 words)

.

.

.

Among the multitudes of traits Ran admires from Shinichi, it’s his confidence that always gets her.

Ran loves the way his lips tug to an accomplished smirk whenever he completes all puzzle pieces of a baffling mystery, or the way his bright eyes glint when he quotes his most favorite lines from Holmes’ cases. She loves how easily he captivates big crowds with his proud, gallant voice, streamlining facts that would put any expert to shame. She loves how he, despite his energy, turns cool and collected when facing a crisis, because as young as he is he knows how to make judgments better than any adult ever can.

She loves him like that. And she loves him even more when he’s like that, to her.

She remembers the first time he held her hand as his girlfriend during their walk home from school — he was all smiles and charm with no hint of reluctance in his eyes. The same way whenever he presses his forehead against hers to check her temperature, or when he tucks her loose locks behind her ear on her stead. He doesn’t hesitate stroking his fingers on the corner of her lips to remove grains of rice stuck on them whenever they dine out, only to eat them afterwards and laughing at how red she’ll be from that.

In those gestures, it’s like he’s teaching her how to be physically comfortable with him. Which she does learn so easily. She likes it. It makes her feel the legitimacy of their relationship. They’re not only best friends but two human beings who love each other and find comfort in each other’s physical closeness.

But as much as she feels his confidence translating through these gestures, there’s one thing he hasn’t done.

He has never kissed her.

This dawned on her when she notices how his face only goes as far as touching her nose when he presses their foreheads together, though her lips are out in the open. That, and when he drops her home after a date, he’ll get really close and it’s ridiculous how her eyes flutter in anticipation for a kiss but he won’t; instead he’ll just squeeze her hand and say his goodbye.

He’s never kissed her.

Not even an attempt.

She doesn’t know what to feel about it.

“Is there something wrong?”

Shinichi slumps beside her on the bed, body nestling comfortably albeit the worried expression he wears. She remembers they’re in her room doing homework, a routine they have after class, which they do alternately between his house and hers.

Earlier, she told Shinichi she’ll lie down for a moment, and judging by how he follows her five minutes after she said that, she figures her somber tone must’ve bugged him.

“Are you sick?”

Ran vigorously shakes her head, and it looks like she’s answering him but in truth she’s veering her brain away from her silly thoughts, embarrassed by where it has drifted to.

Notwithstanding that, he presses his forehead against hers like how he usually does. Even if he’s done this a thousand times, she still can’t help but blush.

“Weird. You aren’t.” Shinichi remarks, voice evident of concern.

“Like I said.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

He observes her for a little longer, caressing her cheek with slow strokes of his thumb, handsome blue eyes serious, unyielding.

This is embarrassing.

His face is only inches away and her breath hitches, unsure of where she must look but in the end settles for his eyes, which stare right at her like he’s seeing through her soul, reading her thoughts.

Then, Shinichi closes in and goes for it.

On the lips.

Ran releases a surprised ‘mpfh’ right when he presses on her, and her temperature begins to rise like she’s truly in a fever.

Even with the littlest movement of his mouth over hers, she feels like she’s going to pass out from the drastic temperature change in her body.

His lips are so red, so warm.

She can’t breathe. She can’t move. She can’t—!

He pulls back.

Ran dumbly looks at him, shaken by the entire feeling of them lying on her bed and him suddenly giving her a kiss. A kiss which, though abrupt, is enough to unleash all the butterflies trapped in her belly.

Shinichi just kissed her.

On her lips!

But...

“I-...” he withholds his words, eyes wide, as if startled by his own actions. The hand framing her cheek quivers.

Something isn’t right.

Something‘s bothering him.

Unsure of what she’s done wrong, she touches his cheek, only for him to flinch beneath her fingertips.

“Shinichi…?” Her voice quivers, too.

The look in his eyes before he captured her lips was so sure. Now, he gazes at her like he’s having second thoughts; eyes lidded with delicate love and affection but behind them lie badges of uncertainty.

She doesn’t like it.

All his life he’s been so confident of his choices, but why, now, does he seem to doubt giving what she secretly anticipates from him for the longest time?

“I uh… I’m sorry I-...I might’ve been rushing, I just...crap,” he hides his reddened cheeks with his back hand, averting his gaze away.

Wait.

No.

If she pays close attention to the stillness of the room, she can hear his erratic heartbeat thumping mercilessly against his ribcage.

If she observes his face carefully, she can count each drop of sweat dotting his forehead.

The more he speaks the more he jumbles up his consonants.

All of these he desperately tries to conceal with his hands but it isn’t working because they, too, shiver like it’s winter.

It’s not that he’s doubting.

He’s…

“Do you want to...do this?”

Ran blinks her doe-like eyes at his question, and in that instant he flits his nervous eyes back at her.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, voice muffled by his hand.

“I mean we can…not, like, if you’re not read-”

Silly boy.

Removing his hand from his face, she silences him with a press of her lips on his.

What do you mean I’m not ready?

Torrents of emotion brew inside her as she recreates his kiss from earlier, though instead of making it brief, she does it longer.

You’ve prepared me enough—it’s about time.

She doesn’t expect him to get flustered at this. After all, he’s Shinichi. But like all other guys whose knees get weak when they receive a heartfelt kiss from their love, his whole resolve collapses, dissolves through his fingertips, as though she’s absorbing all of that from him and he’s letting it.

Wow. The power her kiss has over him.

Nothing can get any better than this.

However.

It is one thing to kiss, but another to be good at it. Though she surges on him with so much passion, she finds herself...stuck.

Does she move? Where does she place her hands?

She plants awkward kisses along his mouth, and with every passing second the confidence she mustered begins to wane.

She’s horrible. Pathetic.

He must be hating this.

“Ran.”

Shinichi breaks away, stares at her for what seems like forever.

She waits for him to laugh, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he guides her hand to his nape, cradles her jaw and smiles, “May I?”, before pulling her to meet her mouth and kiss her again.

It might be his confidence regained or a natural talent, but the way he delivers is magical. Heavenly. “Like this,” his voice comes out breathy, as he leads her mouth to a specific motion over his. Oh god. She feels as though she ascends the skies, floats above the clouds, flies with the birds with every brush of lips. It doesn’t take long until their mouths dance in perfect rhythm, lips melding comfortably like melting iron.

This is...surreal.

The bed shifts and suddenly she’s facing the ceiling instead of sideways, his upper body hovering above her. His tentative kisses become more decisive, more characteristic of him, and they fill her body with outrageous warmth as he punctuates every kiss with a soft, wet sound, and she cannot filter her next actions so she hums in his mouth, silently.

His lips are like strong armors, clashing against hers so powerfully and she’s willing to lose. The way he grazes his tongue over her inner lip makes every fine hair on her skin tingle, and she sighs in bliss as he delicately tilts her head in an angle more comfortable to them and albeit faintly, he moans.

Everything around her disappears, it’s just him and her, being intimate like this. Being more intimate than ever.

A sudden bite on her lower lip however jolts her and she opens her dazed eyes to see him with his shut tight, brows creased in concentration, his full undivided attention to her, kissing her with an intensity greater than the heat of a thousand suns and it’s...ridiculous. Ridiculous how mad her heart beats at how frustratingly handsome he looks. How her ears flush and cheeks flare up at how foreign they sound. How her vision blurs and blurs until she can no longer keep her eyes open and just fall, deep into his embrace, into his lips, surrendering her will slowly, sweetly…

His mouth leaves her with a quiet pop, weight above her lessening a little.

She cannot open her eyes, but she finds herself lifting her head, wanting to feel his lips again. At this point, it’s already a crime to stop.

“Ran?” He sounds croaky, and she doesn’t realize how dry her throat has become until she replies with an equally hoarse ‘Hn?’

Why are you stopping? Don’t!

“...Your father might kill me if he sees us like this on your bed.”

Her eyes open, reality kicking in.

She’s not in the clouds. They’re still in her room.

“Ah... you-you’re right!”

Shock and embarrassment pass over her face, realizing how much her body reacted to him like it had never reacted to anything before. Her heart rate refuses to slow down.

Oh my god. We just...

He chuckles lightly, pulls her up until she’s sitting Japanese-style on her bed.

They share a minute-long silence, allowing themselves to absorb what just happened, before he starts.

“Hey, Ran.”

“Yes?!” she squeaks, a complete opposite from Shinichi’s tone. She wants to slap herself for sounding too hyper from still being so hung up on the intense kiss they just shared.

“We’ll um, take it slow, okay?”

He soothes her with a cold but steady hand, and she feels herself gradually calming down.

“We’ll take it slow if we’re going to do more of, um... that, from now on.” He mumbles the last part of the sentence, scratching his cheek shyly, averting his gaze again like a bashful boy that he apparently is.

Shinichi stuttering, blushing, being a shy mess.

A sight she doesn’t know she needs.

“...Yes,” her lips tilt with her head, “Yes, of course,” before they widen into an adorable beam. “Then, please take care of me, Shinichi!”

His face flushes once again, more crimson than he’s ever been.

Shinichi may not know it, but Ran will always admire Shinichi for his confidence.

But seeing him like this - being a vulnerable, nervous, mess of a man - is a different story, as she realizes how she wants to see more of this, too.

Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe the day after that.

Maybe, for the rest of their lives.

After a little moment of sharing shy giggles, he stands up, extending his hand to her. “Let’s finish homework?”

She nods, takes his hand. “Okay.”

.

.

.

[trouvelle]

Red-Hearted Tragedy

For @tanteigisachi, thank you for pulling me out of my hole and back out here <3 You’re the kindest! I hope you can visualize the chirping birds and colorful butterflies and glittering rainbow that I’m presenting you this with (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ*

Fandom: Detective Conan/DCMK Pairing: Shinichi/Ran, (side Heiji/Kazuha and Kaito/Aoko) Rating: G Genre/Tags: Fluff, Domestic Warning: None

•

Shinichi has a theory about parenthood.

He used to think it’s not possible that once one becomes a parent, one also stops being anything else. Like the status he has right now. He was always known as a Great Detective of the East, the badass son of the famous writer Kudo Yusaku and a soccer enthusiast. Now he's barely himself, the state of parenting having sucked his body dry of anything remotely cool he had going on. Shinichi wonders if Ran feels the same. When Conan first arrived, they were extremely thrilled about finally being a family and so for a long while, Conan was pretty much everything in their minds. Ran started refusing to go to work at Teitan and Shinichi missed more cases than he can account for—all in favor of watching their baby grow healthy and in a strong household.

They succeeded. Conan is now a kind, obedient, smart and very lovely four year old and there is still nothing more important than him in his parents’ lives.

However.

It will be Valentine's Day soon and Shinichi would love for this to be their first Valentine’s Day without Conan's presence jumping and screaming for them to watch Pororo instead of opening a bottle of wine. Don't get him wrong, he loves his son. He just misses being romantic with his wife. That’s just tragic.

That's why he calls Heiji.

"Forget it," the guy says. "Kazuha and I had a hard time booking a nanny for Valentine's. She's pretty expensive and the only one who hasn’t been threatened by the twins so far."

Shinichi traps the phone between his ear and his shoulder while typing the report to finish up his latest murder case. It's the second case he’d taken this week. He's tired and grumpy and wants to end his week early to spend the whole Valentine weekend, but people seem to be exploding with their grudges, stalking ex-girlfriends here and murdering ex-husbands there.

"You should get them checked," Shinichi jokes half-hardheartedly.

The other gasps. Shinichi can practically hear Heiji’s Giant Head of Doom growing in size. "Don't insult my beautiful children!"

"You could at least ask your nanny to look after Conan as well. He's quiet, and you know he won't make any mess."

"Get your own nanny." Heiji scoffs. "Where ya’ at?"

Shinichi exhales. "Working."

"How many cases ya’ got this week?"

"Three. People really need to chill. It’s the holiday of love, not hatred. ” Shinichi answers with such exasperation and Heiji laughs. “I take it you’re just as busy as I am?”

"Nah, I got a murder and a robbery earlier this week but now I’m chillin’ and ready for the weekend." Shinichi just knows that his best friend is grinning ear to ear at this moment.

And so he decides he's had enough of him. He hangs up with a scowl, but not before sending one last grumble in Heiji’s way.

•

Ran places a cup of coffee in front of Shinichi, Conan's orange juice in one hand and this morning’s newspaper under her arm.

"He won't do it," Shinichi says.

Ran squints, sitting across from him at the dining table. "Kazuha-chan told me they’ve gone through a lot of trouble to find a good babysitter. I think that means they do not want to babysit this weekend."

"Well they just found one and he says he won't share." Shinichi sips at his coffee.

Ran chuckles, standing up and calling for Conan, who walks out from his bedroom already perfectly dressed (hair a mess, though). The four year old tiptoes to reach his juice box, jumping on the couch once the box is secure between his hands. Shinichi gulps his coffee before walking toward Conan and sitting himself next to his son on the couch.

"Hey," he says.

Conan blinks dazedly, clearly bored out of his mind and undoubtedly thinking about the comfort of his bed. It's barely even eight and the kid is already tired.

"So... today is a special day," he continues. Conan stares at him. "A special day for... daddies and mommies."

"Valentine's Day?" Conan asks. Shinichi frowns.

"Yes, how do you know about Valentine's Day?"

"Everyone knows about Valentine's Day, Dad."

"But you're too young to..." he shakes his head. "Never mind. Are you ready for school?"

Conan stands up as if doing so is such a burden, and Shinichi thinks about talking to Ran about ways to make kindergarten seem more interesting for their toddler. 

•

There is no nanny available. All nannies were already booked by smarter couples that probably have been planning their Valentine's night for days. Shinichi and Ran are easily 'the rest'.

"Kuroba, please? Can you watch Conan just for one night?"

"It's Valentine's Day, Kudo."

"You told me that you don’t have any plans with Aoko anyway. You could use some company. Conan is nice company, he likes your magic tricks and he's an amazing listener. You can dump all your dissatisfaction with life and your father-in-law and the world on him, he won't even mind."

Kaito is beyond outraged. "First of all, I DO have plans with Aoko! It’s just that her father wants to have a Valentine's dinner with her that she can’t say no to.” Shinichi has to drag the phone away from his ear. “Second of all, ALL kids love my magic tricks and. And I am definitely NOT dissatisfied."

Shinichi wisely chooses not to point out the extreme dissatisfaction in the magician’s voice. "Please? Ran and I really need this moment. It's been ages since we went on a romantic dinner. We haven’t even had the chance to spend any alone time outside lately."

"And you blame that on your son." Kaito's tone is accusing and reprimanding.

"No. Yes, somehow, but, not in a bad way. It's just... Being a parent is hard. We focus all our time and energy on Conan and end up with nothing left for ourselves. I miss having a day for us, you know?"

There's silence. Shinichi hopes Kaito is trying to picture how hard it is to have a child and eventually consents, because he's Shinichi's last option. But to be honest, maybe it’s not the best idea to put in the magician’s head. He doesn’t want an angry Aoko coming for him.

"Ok, fine." Kaito answers and Shinichi punches the air in celebration. "Remember that you owe me another one and that I expect free food."

"You got it, Kuroba!"

•

If all kids are as calm as Conan, Kaito muses, then he can’t wait until Aoko and his bundle of joy arrives. He only prays that his child wouldn’t turn out to be as hyper as the Hattori twins. Conan doesn't seem affected by Kaito's presence, but then again, everything the kid needs is his pillow and a television. Preferably some cartoons.

•

Shinichi averts his gaze from the two just as his wife walks into the living room. Ran looks good. So good. And Shinichi's hands are sweating with anticipation. It's been so long since the last time they've gone out, just the two of them where clowns and kiddy toys aren't involved.

He approaches her, who is now leaning against the wall with arms folded on his chest and a fond expression on his face. She's watching Conan staring at the TV while clutching his pillow, the boy's eyes already drooping with drowsiness. Kaito sits next to him and occasionally attempts to chat, but Conan isn't exactly a conversationalist. He's one of the quiet ones. And definitely Shinichi’s son.

"He's so big," Ran mentions in that tone she only uses when talking about Conan. "Did four years really go by that fast?"

Shinichi sighs as Conan perches his head up to watch Kaito perform some tricks. "Why? Do you still think about him as a baby?"

"He's still a child. He still needs care." Ran bites her lips, worry washing over her features. "Maybe we should cancel Valentine's Dinner."

Before Shinichi can muster up an angry answer about several months without a couple's moment and the survival of their relationship while being parents, Kaito walks towards them.

"You guys should go or you'll miss the reservation," he says, that annoying complacent smile on.

"Do you have the list of things he's allowed to eat and do you have the list of numbers to call if something happens?" Ran fidgets with her fingers. Shinichi promptly holds her hands.

Kaito smiles. "Yep, I've got it covered, Ran-san. Just go and have a good time and come back early if you can."

They probably wouldn’t.

•

Shinichi also has a theory about having a good time on Valentine's Day.

For them, it's not possible anymore.

They make it to the reservation in peace and the lobster Ran ordered is on its way when Shinichi's phone rings. It's their home number, so it has to be Kaito. He takes a deep breath to mentally prepare himself for a disaster, but instead of destruction he gets his son's voice.

"Heiji jichan?" Conan says.

Shinichi pulls the phone away and glares at the screen. Why would his own son call Hattori, not him? Shinichi did set Hattori’s number on their speed dial after his and Ran’s, but nevertheless he is gravely disappointed.

"Conan?" he asks, Ran frowning.

"Oh Dad? Sorry, I want to call Heiji jichan. Goodb—”

Shinichi narrows his eyes and interrupts before his son can hang up. “Hey buddy, is everything ok?”

“Um, It's Kaito jichan, dad. He's dying."

Shinichi's brain processes the fact that his toddler is nowhere near harm, and he exhales very loudly in relief. And once he processes what his son actually said, he chokes on his own saliva. Ran leans towards him, eyebrows knitted together. 'What's wrong?' she mouths. Shinichi can't even bring himself to say it.

"What—” he coughs into the phone. "What do you mean, Conan? You didn't make someone stick a fork up the socket again, did you? Conan, I told you that is dangerous."

Ran gasps, horror freezing her face. Both her hands fly to her mouth as she stands up, dropping to the floor next to Shinichi's chair. He runs a hand through his hair and slowly shakes his head, reassuring her that their son is ok. Although there is someone dying and they should be on their way home already.

"He ate something from the fridge, Dad. Now he's moving funny and he sounds weird."

If he tunes everything out, he can indeed listen to faint noises in the background. That's probably Kaito having a hard time.

"What is it?" Ran asks, squeezing Shinichi's thigh.

"Kuroba ate something and is now dying."

"DYING?" She pulls herself up and paces around in panic. "He didn't eat the stew did he? Because Sonoko sent us that and she said it’s something called Bouillabaisse which is—”

“— fish... stew." Shinichi finishes lamely.

Which Kaito is tragically allergic to.

"We need to go," he jumps from his seat, drawing his wallet and throwing some money on the table. He wishes no one would steal it because they're in a hurry and he always sees people throwing money on tables at movies so he figures it works. Out of luck, the restaurant Shinichi picked is a few minute drive from their house. There's a nice chance they'll get to save Kaito.

•

Shinichi's theories have been proven correct:

1. He's no longer simply Kudo Shinichi, great Detective of the East and husband of Mouri Ran. He's now Kudo Shinichi, Conan's dad. 2. Therefore, it's tragically impossible to enjoy Valentine's Day with only the woman he loves.  3. His son is perfectly okay with conveniently inconveniencing his uncle Heiji at any given circumstance (in this case, he calls Heiji after Shinichi hangs up just to see which one of them would arrive to save Kaito the fastest). 4. Couldn't Kaito have picked another moment to try and die?

Shinichi's Valentine's Day is now being spent at the ER, with his four year old son fast asleep in his wife’s arms while said wife stares glassy-eyed at the television in the waiting room. It turns out that Conan was trying to call Heiji instead of him because he did not want to ruin the “special day for mommies and daddies” for his own mommy and daddy.

Well, it doesn’t really matter now. Everyone’s Valentine’s Day has been ruined beyond repair. It’s something they’d definitely look back and laugh about, but looking around the room, Shinichi’s certain that none of them has enough energy to muster a nice joke. 

Although, he actually chuckles when he hears Kazuha say, “I told you something was gonna happen tonight, Heiji. I told you so.”

There are bags under Ran's eyes and her hair is disheveled, the red sweater she'd carefully picked for their date now draped loosely around their son for his warmth. Shinichi snorts, feeling mocked. All he wanted was a romantic night with his wife. That's all.

He sticks his hand into his pocket, thumb flicking over the pendant of the necklace he was supposed to give to Ran as a surprise. It's a simple necklace. Not that he doesn't have the money—it's just that Ran doesn't care about expensive stuff. 

"Hey," A whisper pulls him from his reveries and Shinichi glances at his wife. Ran looks tired, but so damn beautiful. How could someone as gorgeous as her have ended up with a piece of geeky detective like him? "Don't beat yourself up."

He sighs, blinking as he drags the necklace out of his pocket. "We've changed, haven't we?" He brings his eyes up to Ran's.

“Of course we have. There are three of us now. It doesn't mean we can't have a good time. Look at Aoko-san and Kuroba-kun, I’d say they’re having it worse than us.” Ran smiles knowingly, hand caringly brushing over Conan's hair.  “Also, is that my present?”

Shinichi smiles back at her, lifting his hands. "It is... Yeah, it's supposed to be your present."

"I love it!" Ran laughs.

"I already know you do." Shinichi takes one last look at the necklace and decides that it will look better around Ran’s neck. He would gladly help Ran put the necklace on, but Conan is an effective clinger, both arms locked around his mom’s neck.

"Shinichi… thank you. I didn't have time to get you a present, sorry." She mumbles the last part of the sentence with guilt, eyes still locked with his. He can see the apologetic shine in her eyes, even though he doesn’t understand why she feels the need to apologize to him. He doesn’t want anything else from her. She’s already everything he can ever wish for.

"I don’t need anything else," he says, pushing the necklace into Ran's pocket before leaning over to peck at his wife’s lips.

—

Shinichi has another theory about this night.

It didn't turn out to be what he was expecting it to be: his friend almost accidentally killed himself; his four year old son almost witnessed someone die; his best friend is willing to drop anything just to attend to said son; they nearly ran over an old lady in their haste to go home to save Kaito's life (which was proven futile anyway, because Heiji miraculously appeared first to get them to the hospital) and all of them are now ending their very special night at the hospital as Kaito recovers from his near-death experience. 

It was a tragedy. Everything went wrong except for one thing. Shinichi and Ran went through it all together. 

[letitrainasunnyday]

What do you think about Ran's recent scene with Conan where she said "Conan, right?". I feel sad for her coz it seems like she's given up on finding the truth and just let herself be lied to. I feel like Shinichi repeated attempt at pulling the cover over her eyes makes her so jaded. Also big reason why I'm so frustrated with Shinichi (and kinda want him to suffer before Ran forgive him, or even doesn't forgive him at all). Sorry if you already answer this before.

This is a very complex question and I’m torn. So let me try and explain it as best as I can. 

As we say in Catalan, anem a pams (let’s break it down one thing at a time): 

I think, deep down --and I’m pretty sure this isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned this-- Ran knows the truth. From the first time she ever made the connection that Conan could be Shinichi, it’s an idea that’s stayed in her heart, and you know what they say about ideas. 

(That they’re hard to kill.) 

She even went as far as to theorize a pretty damn close interpretation of what may have happened to Shinichi that got him to shrink. So I think, deep, deep down, she knows the truth. But because the truth is very complicated, not to mention highly improbable and almost damn near impossible to believe, she tells herself that it’s not, in fact, the truth. 

Can anyone guess what Arc I’m about to come back to? 

If you guessed The Desperate Revival Arc, you are absolutely correct. (And maybe I’m a little annoying. Anyway.) 

The Desperate Revival Arc, again, is key here because by then, Ran’s known the truth for a while. And it’s a truth she’s gotten to on her own, and a truth that she’s clued Shinichi into --let’s not forget that scene during the Saizo Kano case where Ran asks Conan not to leave her alone-- but because Shinichi is often an idiot, he doesn’t really realize. Then she knows his blood type and saves him, and by then Shinichi is pretty sure that she knows the truth --because my kid is an idiot but he’s not an imbecile-- and the first question that pops into his head is, I’m willing to bet, the same question that popped into all of our heads. 

Why didn’t she say so before?

And CAN YOU BELIEVE the person who has to answer that question is none other than romantic dumbass Heiji Hattori? I still haven’t recovered from that but Hattori literally tells Shinichi the truth, which is that Ran’s waiting for him to tell her because 1) she wants him and needs him to and 2) she feels like it’s his duty and his place to do so. We all know how The Desperate Revival Arc ends, but even though Ran sees Conan and Shinichi at the same time, we know how clever she is. She knows how clever Shinichi is. Chapters later, when she’s suspicious of him again and she steals Conan’s phone and tries to unlock it, she gets to the conclusion herself that Shinichi could’ve tricked her even though he and Conan were at the same place at the same time. So the idea is there. No one is getting that idea out of her head. Deep down, Ran knows. 

But it’s one thing to know something, and a very different thing to want to know something. So if I was Ran right now, knowing that Shinichi and her are now officially dating, I know I simply could not afford to think that the same Shinichi who fills my heart is the Shinichi who is lying to me and living with me. I think that’s exactly what Ran’s going through. The suspicion is always there, she’s always going to think that Conan and Shinichi are suspiciously similar and she’s always going to think and know they’re the same person. But to know that the person who you are dating is also lying to you BIG TIME is too tough a truth to want to believe unless he tells you directly. 

So I don’t think she’s jaded. I think she’s terrified and scared of being disappointed and being betrayed and being lied to like that. Which, if you ask me, makes everything infinitely worse. I wish she was tired and jaded. Instead, she’s heartbroken. 

Please let Ran rest my baby does not deserve all the pain. 

So that scene --which, yeah, happened before Kyoto-- to me feels more like the truth that Ran knows presenting itself in front of her, in the form of Conan saying Shinichi’s words and big neon arrows pointing to Ran that they are one and the same, and her not wanting to believe it. But it’s also her facing Conan, giving him yet another chance to tell her the truth so that when he ultimately doesn’t, Ran can lie to herself and convince herself that if Shinichi really were Conan, he’d tell her, and so if he doesn’t, it means he isn’t and that she isn’t living with her lying boyfriend. 

Does this make any sense?

As for the second part of your ask where you expressed frustration about Shinichi’s lies: as much as I understand where that frustration comes from, it’s not one I can say I share. You can read more about what I think of Shinichi lying here. 

[letstrywritingmaybe]

I Wish I Cared Less

Chapter 11: Plus One*

A/N: I’ve finally finished this part of the series. Thanks to those who followed me on this journey, especially if you bared through my very unpopular ending in I Only Lie When I Love You (I still loved it so it doesn’t matter, but some of yall really hated it, yikes). Anyways, I do technically have one more part to add to this verse that I may or may not get to, but for those that ship strictly CoAi (low key me) you won’t need to worry about it. I have a kaishi canon divergence planned and it’s all bad for CoAi, it’s messy (think Devour but worse). Feel free to skip it if I ever get to add it to the series. Now onto the actual last chapter of this fic!

Attempt #11: Smile

Let’s backtrack a little, about a week ago she took a test. The results are positive. She takes two more to confirm, and each time it tells her the same thing. Well shit.

She can’t be too far along, when was the last time she had her period? She cannot recall. A month? Maybe two? It can’t be three… she’s not even showing yet.

Crap, she’s been drinking. Not a lot, only a few times during dinner and only two glasses at most… wait, hold on. She’s getting her priorities messed up, she needs to tell him. Right, she should, he deserves to know right?

In case it wasn’t obvious, she didn’t tell him. She doesn’t know how to. What is she supposed to do? Say hey Honey welcome home, oh, and by the way I’m pregnant? Yeah, no. She can’t even begin to imagine what he would say.

“You’re distracted today, do you want to stop?”

“No, sorry, there’s just a lot on my mind.”

“We don’t have to have sex, we can…”

“If we don’t do it now, who knows when we can again!”

“What? Since when have we had a problem wanting sex at the same time?”

“That’s not what I mean… do you not want to… I knew it! You must be sick of me!”

“Woah, hold on. You know that’s not true, I love you Shiho. There’s something bigger going on. What’s wrong, Baby?”

“Baby… you know… how did you… I don’t know what I’m doing, Shinichi. I’m going to be awful.”

She starts sobbing, completely killing the mood and effectively sending Shinichi into a panic. This isn’t like her, suddenly bursting into tears, unable to properly explain herself.

It doesn’t help that her boyfriend isn’t exactly the best at consoling a crying woman, especially when that woman is Shiho. He doesn’t have much experience dealing with her tears.

Hold on a second… did she just say…

“Shiho? Are you… are we… Are we having a baby?”

She responds with more tears, but manages to nod. His arms are around her in an instant, holding her close squeezing her tight. He cannot contain his excitement, there’s a gigantic smile on his face. Shiho stops crying, she wasn’t expecting this to be his response.

“Shinichi?”

“We’re having a baby! You’re going to be the mother of my child! I’m going to be a dad! Shiho, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He leaves kisses all over her face, even over her drying tears, his joy is infectious. She certainly never imagined he would be this happy.

“You’re not upset with me?”

“You just told me you’re pregnant with my child, why would I be upset?”

“I didn’t tell you right away… and I don’t know if I will be a good mom…”

He kisses the top of her head, hand moving over to rest on her still flat belly. It’s hard to believe there’s a little life living inside.

“I’m sure you were overwhelmed, I know now, that’s all that matters. And you’re going to be a terrific mom. You should worry more about me.”

“You’ll be a great father, Shinichi.”

“No, not that. You’re going to spend all your time and energy on our baby, I won’t get enough attention from you.”

“So you’re saying you’re not going to pay attention to our baby?”

“I can pay attention to both of you… there is just one in there right?”

“What, you don’t think one’s enough? You wanted twins?”

“Well, Mrs. Kudo, it’s not like you’ve told me anything…”

“Nice try, I’m still not marrying you. I thought you said you weren’t upset with me not telling you.”

“Tell me now, tell me all about our little one.”

——

Pregnancy life is stressful, but only because Shinichi is so excited. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s being too overbearing, but she can’t help snapping at him when she feels he’s fussing too much.

So far, they haven’t told anyone yet. She’s still in the early stages, not even two months in. She thought Shinichi would be dying to share the news, but he seems to enjoy that the two of them have this secret the rest of the world doesn’t know about yet.

“How is my beautiful girlfriend and baby girl doing today?”

“It’s way too early to tell if it’s a boy or a girl, how are you so sure?”

“I’m going off instincts. She’s going to be a Daddy’s girl. You haven’t had any issues since you let me know about our baby.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“It’s because she knows her dad is here and will take care of her and her mom, so she stopped being difficult.”

His head is pressed against her belly, speaking to their child. It must be something all parents do, she finds herself doing the same from time to time.

He raises his head up to smile at her, she gently cups his face bringing him face level. He understands her intentions, sharing a light kiss until it turns heated.

He pulls away before it gets out of hand, much to her displeasure. They haven’t had sex since he found out about the pregnancy, even though she made sure it was okay for them to do so.

She huffs out in annoyance, she gets why he’s hesitant but it’s making her very frustrated. Her libido hasn’t gone down in the slightest, though that may change as her belly gets bigger.

Shinichi wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head in a bid to offer comfort. It’s not the kind she wants, but she decides not to fight with him over this right now. She’s sure she can convince him later.

“So you want it to be a girl, will you be upset if we have a boy?”

“Not upset, I would love our child no matter what. I just always dreamed we would have a mini version of you running around.”

“… you dreamed of having a baby with me? Why…”

“I want it all with you, Shiho. To be married, have a child. I meant it when we laid it all out that night. I want us to be a real family, the mother of my child, my gorgeous wife.”

“I knew you only liked me for my looks… wait. A child? I’m surprised you only want one.”

“Well… I wouldn’t be upset if we had another… it’s just…”

“Just?”

“I’m not going to get all of your attention after this one is born, and I just don’t think I could compete with our baby. It took me so long to finally get you to admit you love me… Having to split it in half is already worrisome, but thirds? And I just know it’s not going to be equally divided. You’ll forget about me for our kids, like a good mother should.”

She’s taken aback by his logic, sure she knows that is what’s typically expected but… given the relationship of his parents, she would think he would be afraid of their child being neglected.

She leans in to kiss him on the cheek. He’s so close, she can’t resist stealing more kisses. Planting them all over his face, trailing down to his neck, though again he stops her before it becomes too much.

She sighs, she’s getting off track anyhow. She’s supposed to prove she won’t forget about him, not try to jump him. Though maybe if he would just let her have her way then he’ll realize she truly does love him.

“Shinichi, I love you, and yes I’m going to love our child. But, before I became a mother, I am your girlfriend and you’re my boyfriend. This baby wouldn’t be here in the first place if it wasn’t for you. I’m not going to forget to love you just because you’re the father of my child now. If anything I’m worried you’re only going to see me as a mother and never want to have sex with me again.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you, Shiho, I just…”

“I know. I get it. But it’s only going to get worse. If you won’t even touch me now, what’s going to happen when the baby’s here. I doubt I’ll want to have sex after giving birth right away. Are you going to make me wait a whole year before we have sex again?”

“I don’t think I could last a year. I can barely hold myself back now.”

“So don’t. I want you, Shinichi. So so much. I love you. I need you.”

!!!

How can he deny her when she proclaims her love for him like this? It’s such a turn on.

The fire he’s been trying to put out rises with the heat of her kisses, he takes control as he pushes her onto her back. She reaches for the buttons of his shirt, he does the same with the ones on her blouse.

Soon they’re both stripped naked, he can’t help eyeing her belly which doesn’t go unnoticed by Shiho. She lets out a frustrated sigh, thinking he’s going to stop again.

He lowers himself down to kiss her tummy, his voice is barely above a whisper as he tells their child not to panic, daddy’s not hurting mommy one bit.

He looks up to meet her widened eyes at his comment, she really shouldn’t be surprised by this. She just didn’t expect for this to turn her on more.

He lowers himself down, pushing her legs further apart to allow himself to rest comfortably between her thighs. There’s a smirk on his face as he looks up at her again.

“We should practice keeping quiet when the baby’s here. I wouldn’t want our little girl to hear how loud Mommy is when Daddy’s fucking her.”

She can feel herself growing wetter at the thought, what has this man done to her. He’s fitting right into the role and it’s driving her crazy. She can’t believe he’s making parenthood sound hot to her right now.

She’s unprepared when he sticks his tongue into her entrance, his nose bumping against her clit causing a hitch in her breath.

His fingers are gently rubbing the inside of her thighs as one travels over to find her clit, while his tongue continues to delve in deeper inside her wet cavern. She cannot contain her moan, when he swipes at her sensitive spot with his thumb then pinches it against his forefinger.

She whines when he pulls himself away, his lips are still wet with her drippings as he licks them. He reminds her to stay quiet, or else he won’t continue. She has no choice but to obey, lips pressed in a thin line, gripping onto the bed sheets as he goes back to eat her out.

Her breathing becomes labored as he builds her to the verge of orgasm, she has to bite down on her lips to keep from screaming out. A high pitched noise escapes her lips when he licks his tongue up her opening, she falls apart when she feels him suck at her swollen clit.

He’s rewarded with a rush of her juices covering his chin as well as the sheets underneath them. He wipes it off with his hand, then slowly kisses his way up her body.

Her legs wrap around his waist as his kisses reach the crook of his neck. He has to help keep her ass pressed down, reaching down to reposition their lower halves, lining himself up against her dripping core.

“Don't worry, Baby, Daddy’ll be gentle with Mommy.”

Slowly sliding himself inside her wet passage, he stops to check on her when he pushes all the way inside. Satisfied there’s no look of discomfort on her face, he starts to pull out as he sets up a steady rhythm. He opts for long shallow strokes, keeping his movements on pace instead of just hammering into her.

He’s still trying to stay mindful of the baby, but the longer he goes, the more erratic his thrusts are. Shiho’s muffled moans only encourage him to go faster, she knows he’s getting close.

He presses his face against her cheek, giving her the perfect opportunity to make him come when she whispers in his ear, “give it all to me, Daddy.”

He comes hard inside her, burying himself deep within her core. Her mischievous smile as he pulls out, is all the evidence he needs that she said that on purpose.

They’ll need to get cleaned up from the mess they made on the sheets, she seems to like the way his cum feels dripping out of her though he would rather keep it inside of her.

“So, Daddy? Someone has a pregnancy kink.”

“Took you long enough to notice, I’ve been trying to knock you up since we started dating.”

“You’re so full of it.”

“Actually, I think you’re the one full of me.”

“Kudo Shinichi, do you kiss your mother with that filthy mouth? I never knew you were such a dirty talker.”

“Daddy’s lips only belong to Mommy.”

He chuckles at her fake appalled expression, before leaning in to kiss her lips. They’re going to need to settle down or else they’ll start a round two. Not that he’s against it, now that he knows firsthand they can safely have sex while she’s pregnant.

There’s nothing holding them back now that they’ve gotten the first time out of the way. She’s just glad he won’t be weird about this anymore, there’s no way she could’ve gone without sex with him for a whole nine months.

——

“Kudo Shinichi, you are never touching me again!”

“You’re squeezing my hand a little too hard there…”

“Are you seriously! Fuck you! Oh my fucking! Fuck! This is all you’re fucking fault!”

Hours of obscenities and nearly breaking Shinichi’s hand later, their beautiful baby girl is born into this world. She’s in perfect health and already she’s the pride and joy of her parents. Even if she made her mother suffer through the worst pain of her life.

Staring at the tiny human they helped create, Shiho’s at a loss for words. She turns to look at Shinichi with tears pricking his eyes.

“What will we name her?”

“How about Ai?”

“Kudo Ai does have a nice ring to it.”

“You’re letting her have my name?”

“She’s going to be a Daddy’s girl, she’ll be upset if I didn’t give her your name.”

“You know it could be your name too.”

“Still not happening. If you’re worried I’ll be outnumbered, don’t. Our next one is going to be a Miyano.”

“I thought you forbid me from touching you.”

“You are for now… but looking at her and how perfect she is… I wouldn’t mind having another one with you.”

“I love you, Shiho.”

“I love you too, Shinichi.”

It doesn’t take that much longer for Shiho to get pregnant again. Almost two years later they’ll back to her swearing at him to never touch her again. Luckily Ai doesn’t hear her mother’s curses, her grandparents had the foresight to wait with her at home.

Soon she’ll be able to meet her baby brother, and they can be one big happy family. Even if they’re an unconventional one, since her parents aren’t married.

It doesn’t make them any less real.

Also available on ao3 <3

[jaroslavlewis]

Random DCMK Things: DCMK Couples Doing the "Boyfriend Buys and Does My MakeUp Challenge"

SHINRAN

Shinichi is familiar with the products and how they are used because he sees his mom use them all the time. Being the keen observer that he is, he has a fair advantage in the challenge.

There will be some teasing. Like "Awww. Your mom really is your first love. Nothing says love like watching a woman glam herself up."

To which Shinichi will deny, despite how true it is and despite the fact that he used to be mesmerized by his mom as a child and now he loves watching Ran glam herself up when they're gonna have dinner in a fancy place. 😂

Shinichi will most-likely stay in the safe zone and go for the natural, no-makeup makeup look. Also because, "Ran's already perfect. I don't want to mess her face up. "

Shinichi will pick a combination of drugstore and highend, but mostly highend make up. Using his memory of his mom's collection as reference. He'll most likely be able to remember the products that Ran uses as well.

He will also be shyly approaching a saleslady for help. "Err. I'm looking for something for my girlfriend... "

Will also be like, "Is this safe? Coz I'm putting it on her precious face. "

Will most-likely buy a couple of backups things, just in case. "I'll buy another shade of this blush and this lipstick for options... "

He will also be overwhelmed by the variety of products to choose from especially for foundation.

Will also be like, "I don't know which foundation shade will match her. Just give me one of each shade."

And the saleslady be like O.O

Casually whips out the golden credit card at the cash out.

And when Ran sees the receipt, she'll be like.... "That's so expensive you didn't need to buy all of that!!!"

When putting makeup on Ran, Shinichi will most-likely be cautious and gentle. Like, "Am I beating your face too hard with thw sponge? Is this brush too scratchy? Are you sure I'm not hurting you? "

Ran almost finds it annoying that he has to ask her like every minute. 😂😂😂

"So, I have to use a brush to put the blush right? But which one there are just so many of these... How do you keep track? "

*picks out the fluffiest, softest brushes always*

Shinichi's least favorite step would be eyeliner and mascara/lashes because, "I don't want to poke Ran in the eye with that thing! "

And his reaction to a lash curler will be like, "THAT THING LOOKS LIKE A MEDIEVAL TORTURING DEVICE PLEASE PUT THAT AWAY!"

Ran be like, "Shinichi, it's just a lash curler..."

But Shinichi will be like, "I don't care. It looks like a murder weapon. Put it away before it kills anyone! "

His favorite product on the other hand will be lipstick. Because it's a staple, it's the easiest and since he pays attention to Ran's lips so much.

He'll also be like... "I know you love this lipstick so much and I love this shade on you so this is the one I bought.

Finished output will be like a 7 or 8/10. With a good overall base, but the eyemake up needs a little more improvement.

KAZUHEI

Heiji will have the least advantage, mainly because he is always out with his dad than his mom. Always observing Heizo dping police work. LOL.

His initial reaction to the challenge will be "Hell nawwwwwww. I'm up for any competition but that!"

Has no particular look in mind. (good luck Kazuha.)

But "Oooohhhh green eyeshadow! "

And "Heyyyy Kazuha you like orange... "

And "This thing says foundation, so I'll just get this one."

Picks out one foundation without looking at the shade.

Definitely picks the wrong shade.

At the check out he'll be so shookt to find out how much everything costs.

Most-likely to draw on box-eyebrows on Kazuha. (Now they have the same-ish brows. Lol)

Powders fluffing everywhere when he puts makeup on Kazuha.

Kazuha be sitting there coughing. Poor girl.

Reaction to a beauty blender, "What is this egg? "

Heiji be like, "Hold still, ahou!" *violently beats Kazuha's face with a beauty blender.

Kazuha be like "Ouch!Stop being so rough!" (insert "That's what she said." meme)

Heiji be like, "But I thought you like it rough? "😏

Also *accidentally pokes Kazuha in the eye with an eyeliner*

"I told you to hold still!" "I am still you're just a dumbass!

Shinichi intervening: "Let me just take this medieval torturing device (lash curler) away before you hurt Toyama-san with it. "

Kazuha found dead after the challenge. "They say no pain, no gain. But all I gained from this challenge was pain."

Heiji at the end of the challenge: "I'm sorry I complain a lot that you take so much time to get ready. Now I know how difficult it is..."

Also, for everyone else's benefit, Heiji's score will not be disclosed.

KAIAO

Kaito has the most advantage, like duh.

Go Glam or Go home.

Highend makeup DA HOUSE!

"I don't even need to go to Sephora. I have everything in my secret KaitoKid lair but okay..."

Aoko be like "Why does my boyfriend have better makeup than me?"

The most-chill, quickest shopping around the store. Doesn't even need to ask saleslady for help coz he knows what he needs. He knows what he is doing.

"Get those fishtail/mermaid tail brushes away from me or I'm out of here! "

"This Shu Uemura lash curler works the greatest." (Shinichi in the corner screaming: "EXPENSIVE MEDIEVAL TORTURING DEVICE!")

Favorite step is contouring. 😄

Glittery metallic shadows! Because he's so extra.

"Look at that highlight. You look like something I'd steal."

More glitter. "Imma make you shine brighter than the pandora gem, baby. " 💎

Obviously gets a 100! Immediatley takes Aoko out for a date after the challenge.

[tact-and-impulse]

At Arm’s Length Chapter 14

*dojo door slams open* Dad’s home.

Thank you for your patience! Now that this is the last installment correlating to the Kyoto arc, the next chapter will be an interlude before we hop onto the angst train. I know it took a long time for this update, and this past year has been a struggle, given I had to prepare for a major exam (which I passed, so that’s something!) and the current state of the world. The events of this chapter cover Kaoru’s childhood to the Seinan war, including several traumatic events. Content warnings for death of a parent, depictions of war, PTSD, death of a spouse, and depictions of hospitalization. Let me know what you think, and please take care of yourselves.

Chapter 14: Becoming a Father

When he emerged from Commissioner Kawaji’s office, Koshijiro let exhaustion take over. He had stayed awake two hours past midnight to finalize his evacuation plan, and the entire morning had already flown by due to the commissioner grilling him on the details. He had fended off the questions with varying degrees of success, until he was dismissed with a scowl.

He returned to his desk, settled in his chair, and closed his eyes. Just for a minute…

“Officer Kamiya, we received a message requesting backup.” Shinichi nervously interrupted his rest.

He shook off the lethargy, to see the rookie. Occasionally, the young officers were called on for assistance, and Koshijiro had to accompany them as their direct superior. “Please tell me the details on the way there. Let’s head over.”

There was a clash at the fish market, reportedly between two rival gangs. The details of the feud were unknown, but both sides were agitated and aggressive. Shouts and crashes could be heard from a block away. As Koshijiro and the others approached, the noise intensified. The scene was chaotic. Men were exchanging blows and throwing various items at each other. Bloodied faces drifted in and out among the mob, along with the uniforms of officers. The rookies immediately launched themselves into the fray, disappearing in a matter of moments.

A flash of red barreled towards Koshijiro’s right, and he instinctively caught…an octopus. His arm held the creature to his chest, and its tentacles curled around his sleeve and towards his neck. Gingerly, he set it in a nearby bucket of water, and it wriggled in relief. Now that he looked closer, some of the thrown items were raw seafood.

But not all.

A sword swung towards Koshijiro, the rusty edge aiming for his temple, and he ducked. His right hand fell to his bokken, as he analyzed his opponent. A shorter, stockier man with a gap-toothed grin and a death wish, apparently. Koshijiro drew his bokken, moving into a defensive position.

It wasn’t difficult to read his movements, and when the man attempted an overhead swing, Koshijro blocked. The force was intense, and he had to widen his stance. However, that set him up perfectly for the next move. With an inhale, he pushed back, lifting his back foot off the ground to hook around the man’s knee. The man gave a startled exclamation as his feet turned inward, and Koshijiro disengaged. His opponent threatened to fall forward and that left him open for a strike at the sensitive point behind the elbow. The man’s grip spasmed, but even if he could somehow shake off the numbness, Koshijiro was already following through with another blow to the back of the head. Koshijiro watched him go down, and the immediate handcuffing by Officer Abe, who was on standby.

“Whoa, Kamiya-san, that was awesome!”

“Well, I’m glad it worked. I’ve been thinking over this maneuver for some time.” He was rather proud of his success, and confidently, he moved on.

In total, fifty people were arrested, jailed, and scheduled for questioning. He had volunteered for the last shift of interrogation and didn’t return home until past midnight. Koshijiro prepared for bed, and every movement was abnormally loud. Once he had closed his eyes, his ears rang from the eerie silence.

How long had it been since they were gone? June was already coming to a close. Kaoru’s birthday was at the end of the week and he was in Satsuma for her last one. Their usual celebration was a nice dinner, but he felt like this one should be grander, to make amends. He would have to think of something soon…as a testament to how tired he was, he fell asleep mid-thought.

When he woke, he scrambled for the time and realized he was running late. The train would arrive soon, and he had promised to be at the station. He skipped breakfast and broke into a sprint as he drew closer, but he made it to his destination. Tokio rose from a bench, lifting her little son.

“Kamiya-san, thank you for being here. Are you alright?”

He took a moment to catch his breath. “Yes, I’m fine. I see the train’s here?” The locomotive seemed to be giving a long exhale, the turning of the wheels slowing with each cycle.

“Yes, but they must be checking the passengers before they let them out.” She adjusted her hold on Tsutomu, his sleeping face squished against her collar.

They watched the disembarking people and scanned the faces for a boy of the right description. Finally, he stepped out. He was about ten or eleven, and his hair was mussed from sleeping at an odd angle. Noticing their gazes, he cautiously approached, looking up at Tokio.

“Are you Fujita-san?”

“I am and this is my son, Tsutomu. Kamiya-san is my husband’s colleague.”

Koshijiro nodded in greeting. “It’s good to meet you. How was your journey?”

“Long. It wasn’t too bad until the train.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wanted to go on foot like Kenshin did, the train is too noisy.”

“You met Himura-san?”

“Yeah. He really helped me out in my village.” He became quiet, obviously remembering. “He did say, ‘Kamiya-dono will be in Tokyo, so there is no need to worry.’”

Koshijiro coughed to conceal his embarrassment. “I see. Well, I heard he made it to his destination, so there’s no need to worry about him either.”

Tokio knelt to meet Eiji at eye level. “My husband informed me that you lost your parents and brother. I’m so sorry.”

“Kenshin helped me.” Eiji stared at his feet. “He said the dead only want the living to be happy.”

“He wasn’t wrong.” Koshijiro quietly said. “Your family would want that for you.”

They walked out, and Tokio intended to treat Eiji to a well-deserved meal. She extended the invitation to Koshijiro but he had to decline. “Some other time. I’ll stop by now and then, to check in. If there’s anything you need, you can always visit the Kamiya dojo.”

On his way back, he passed a flower seller, hawking baskets teeming with small pink and white deutzia. They greatly resembled cherry blossoms and he remembered they were gone by August. He turned around and paid for one bouquet, mentally mapping out the detour to the cemetery.

Kyoko will surely love these flowers.

***

Everything about Kaoru was utterly charming. Her little yawns, the way she stretched her whole body when she woke, the downy hair capping her head, her plush grip gently enclosing his thumb. She was an energetic baby, working her fingers and flailing her limbs as if testing them out. She was more than Koshijiro and Kyoko could have asked for.

She grew quickly, and Koshijiro was loath to miss a moment. He couldn’t help but feel a little envious of Kyoko and Osue-san, who visited thrice a week to help out. The majority of his day was spent working, so when he returned home at Kaoru’s early bedtime, Kyoko encouraged him to rock their daughter to sleep. She reassured otherwise but he had felt awkward in the early days, too large and clumsy for his tiny girl. As he strolled through the house, Kaoru’s round eyes intently focused on his face before she slowly nodded off.

When she was a few months old, Koshijiro noticed a bright blue ribbon tied around her head. “Hm? What’s this?’ He asked Kyoko.

“I noticed she has a bald spot, so I thought to cover it with the ribbon.” Meanwhile, Kaoru didn’t seem to mind, happily rolling onto her belly and offering Koshijiro a smile.

He sat beside her and one pudgy hand touched his knee before she tried to lift her upper body. Her feet pushed against the tatami but she didn’t budge. As she struggled to move to his lap, her barely visible eyebrows drew together and she made a loud noise of frustration. Amused, he picked her up by the armpits and remarked. “It’s a little early for you to crawl, Kaoru, but it’s good that you’re eager.”

“She’ll be crawling soon.” Kyoko joined them, adjusting the blue ribbon so it was more secure. “And then, she’ll walk and run.”

“Not too fast for us, I hope.”

But for now, Kaoru was still small enough to hold. While their little home was cozy and quiet, it was not as peaceful outside. The disasters of the Ansei era had accumulated in the past two years: cholera raging through Edo, an earthquake in Hida, an assassination near the Sakurada gate. A treaty with the Americans had been signed, resulting in widespread discontent. With the ports open to trade, the markets and routes changed. Inflation drove costs up, as foreigners bought gold. The shogunate was proving to be increasingly unequipped to handle current issues.

Meanwhile, Koshijiro continued to teach kenjutsu. His students were eager to use real blades and threatened to leave if they couldn’t. He did his best to ensure everyone was safe, but he only had one pair of eyes. There were several close calls. After a particularly nasty duel between two students, he sent a doctor for their injuries and ended class early. When everyone had left, he sat on the freshly cleaned dojo floor, rubbing his forehead. The students were eager to fight and yes, they needed to know how to protect themselves, but was he enabling them? What would his predecessors think of him?

“Sorry to interrupt.”

He turned to see Kyoko, holding their baby daughter and beaming at him. “It’s Otou-san, Kaoru. Otou-san.”

Kaoru gave a delighted cry, waving her fist. How could he possibly be despondent?

Kyoko handed her off, and the baby’s soft cheek grazed his. She nuzzled, turning her face against his shoulder, and he held her tighter. Meeting his wife’s tender gaze, he smiled. “Thank you.”

Once Kaoru could toddle about, there was no stopping her, and she took obvious joy in being followed. Her wide smile over her shoulder was a precious thing to behold. When she’d fall, her tears weren’t out of pain but desire for comfort, for she quickly stopped once she was held. Soon enough, even those subsided, and she’d resume walking as if nothing happened.

After one such occurrence, Kyoko began to laugh. “Her face looks just like yours! So determined!”

“If that’s so, then she certainly takes after you too.” But he laughed as well.

It was during those blissful days that his father returned. He had sent a letter in advance, explaining he no longer had work in Kunitake’s area and would be transferring back home. Koshijiro personally suspected they had a falling-out but kept his reply succinct and inviting. Otou-san arrived with the summer heat, and Koshijiro stepped away from the dojo to greet him with a bow.

“Welcome back.”

“Koshijiro, it’s good to be home.” His father smiled. He was noticeably thinner, the lines on his face deeper. “Oh? Is that Kaoru-chan?”

He glanced towards the porch, to see his daughter staring at them, before she unsteadily ran into the house. “Oka! Oka!”

“Calling for her mother?” Otou-san’s tone was both amused and wistful.

“Her first word as well. Please, come in.” As he offered, he took his father’s satchel. It was surprisingly light. Had Otou-san sold his belongings…or was he kicked out?

Kyoko appeared, Kaoru clinging to her leg. “Welcome! Are you hungry at all? We can have lunch early.”

They settled him in, and the tension seemed to leave his frame. He was in his early sixties, Koshijiro thought, but his age had never shown until now. He moved slower, he slept heavier and longer, and he was not as boisterous as before. Worried, Koshijiro sent for one of Kyoko’s doctors. For the most part, Otou-san’s health was fair, but his heart was weak and they would have to keep an eye on him. Plenty of rest and a daily routine would help, and they did their best to make him comfortable. Otou-san dove into his art with full force, and more often than not, he could be found painting in the yard. He happily gave Kaoru any paper and ink she wanted to draw with, and allowed her to drum her fists against his back in a makeshift massage. He also got along well with Kyoko, who effortlessly charmed everyone in her orbit anyway. Most of his father’s paintings were sold, but if Kyoko expressed a liking for one, he would set it aside for safekeeping.

“Aha! I see the pattern now.” Otou-san clapped his hands together, after a brief survey of Kyoko’s choices. “You have a keen eye for the seasons. Spring, summer, autumn, winter.”

“Of course, and you depict them so well, Otou-sama. But do you have any preferences on what you paint?”

“Not particularly, though it’s better if everything I see remains still while I’m working.” He joked. “But that’s hardly ever the case. Such is life.” And to prove his point, Kaoru hurtled past him, running at full speed to escape a harried Osue, who was attempting to wash her face.

A few months later, they celebrated Kaoru turning three. The zori only lasted a few steps before she kicked them off with obvious relief and to Osue-san’s chagrin. Her pudgy hands held a long stick of chitose ame, which she eagerly crammed into her mouth.

“Yes, live a long, happy life, Kaoru.” Kyoko murmured. Her fatigue had been worse as of late, and she rested against Koshijiro’s shoulder.

When Kaoru dozed off too, worn out by the day’s activities, Koshijiro held her in his lap. Glancing about to make sure no one else was looking, he pressed a kiss on both of their cheeks, his wife’s cool one and his daughter’s slightly sticky one.

Now that she was old enough, Koshijiro had crafted a bokken to match Kaoru’s size, and she would follow along with morning stretches. Anything more would be too advanced, and she usually fussed when Kyoko had to pull her away. Eventually, Koshijiro noticed perforations in the rice paper, at about the eye level of a little girl. It then became a matter of catching her in the act. He listened carefully for a tiny pop, and after a moment, opened the door to find her staring up at him.

“Kaoru, did you do this?”

“No!” But she sucked in a breath and turned to run away. Koshijiro easily stepped around her.

“I’m going to ask again. Did you poke holes in the doors?”

She squirmed, her mouth petulantly twisting. “…it’s fun.”

“But it isn’t very nice. It worries me and your mother when we have to fix them. And we don’t like being mad at you. Can you be good and promise you’ll stop?” He extended his pinky finger towards her.

“Hmph.” She pouted but she linked her tiny finger with his and they shook on it.

“That’s a promise.”

Her voice was small and uncertain when she asked. “Do you hate me?”

“No, of course not. I never could, and Okaa-san feels the same way.” As the words left him, he suddenly remembered his own childhood voice, declaring that he would never be anything like his father. Gods, he must have caused Otou-san a great deal of pain and he’d never realized until now.

When he spoke with Kyoko, she insisted that they have a conversation. “You need to talk with him alone. There’s still time to make things right between you. As long as you’re alive, you can have another chance.”

He decided to do so, one morning. Otou-san was in his usual spot in the yard, trying to capture the autumn scenery with his paints. He shuffled towards the porch, spared a glance at Kyoko. She narrowed her eyes at his stalling, and urged him to keep moving with quick waves of her hand. Suppressing a sigh, he moved to stand by his father.

“That looks lovely.” He lamely nodded at the painting. What was he doing?

His father laughed. “Thank you. I know you’re not as passionate as I am about this, but I appreciate it. Is something on your mind?”

“I spoke to Kaoru about the holes in the door, and she reminded me of the past.” He slowly said. “I remember some of the unkind words I dealt to you when I was a child, and I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. As you said, you were a child and our situation was…unexpectedly complicated. But I never blamed you or your mother.” He set his brush down, resting it on a small ceramic dish with murky water. “I think if Miyo had been with us, like when you were younger, it might be easier to talk with each other. Maybe, she’d still be with us.”

The wind swept through, and a lull fell over them. Koshijiro cleared his throat, swallowing the sudden lump there. “Kyoko says people live on in the stories we tell.”

“She’s right.” He paused. “I never told you how I met your mother.”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Well, it wasn’t romantic. I fell asleep by the river, while sketching. I only meant to have a nap, but when I woke up, it was morning and Miyo was standing over me. Then, I kept seeing her all the time, while I was in town. Our paths crossed frequently after that. I was happy whenever I saw her, and disappointed when I didn’t. When I found that she was looking for work, I hired her. And after that, I only fell deeper. I was sure…that we could live happily together. But Otsuna and Kunitake were jealous. I knew they were, but I raised them like my own after my cousin and wife died. I did my best, trying not to choose. Miyo never told me she was pregnant with you, and when I met you, you were almost a year old. But I couldn’t let you either of you go again. You probably don’t remember much, but despite the circumstances at the time, the famine and uncertainty, those were some of the happiest days of my life.”

Something gave in his chest at his father’s words and sober expression. Otou-san was not perfect by any means, far from it, and yet…he was only human in the end. “That time is vague in my memories but I was happy too.”

“I am sorry though. I never meant for you to be hurt by your siblings, and I did speak to them multiple times. Their harassment is a failure on my part. I don’t know where I went wrong, but please believe that I never encouraged their behavior.”

“I believe you and that it’s not entirely your fault.” He assured. “There comes a point when immaturity is no longer an excuse and I doubt they ever found it. Years ago, I would have thought it difficult to uproot the resentment I have. But I can now. I do forgive you and I think I understand you a little better now. Even more so because I have Kyoko and Kaoru.”

Otou-san looked as if he was about to cry, and he was at a loss for what to do. Almost as if on cue, the door opened to signal someone was on the porch. Kaoru darted towards them, with a wide smile. “Jii-jii!” She twirled in place, her little ponytail flying. “This new ribbon is pretty, right?”

His father nodded, voice light. “Of course! It’s the same color as a rose. And you’re pretty from head to toe. And what does your Otou-san think?”

They both turned to him, and Koshijiro cleared his throat. “Yes, Kaoru, it’s very nice. Did Okaa-san buy it for you?”

“Uh-huh. We match now! Tou-san, come see.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards the house amidst his father’s laughter. Kyoko had tied her own rose-colored ribbon in her bun, and she lifted her head from her sewing with a smile when they rejoined her at the table.

“Thank you.” He murmured.

“You’re welcome. How do you feel?”

“Better.”

“Then, that’s good.” Their private conversation was interrupted by Kaoru, wondering where one of her books was.

In the evenings, Kyoko read aloud to Kaoru, who had claimed a spot to nestle between them in their futon. Koshijiro was embarrassed whenever he fell asleep to his wife’s voice, but those were rare, since Kaoru would poke his side and ask if he wanted to read next. She would try to turn the pages for him, intent on helping move their nightly story forward. She already knew a few kanji, including her name, and Koshijiro was very proud.

There was one issue that arose. One of the new books Kaoru liked was about a family, which had multiple children. The youngest was a newborn girl, and Kaoru seemed fascinated, her fingers lingering on the baby’s descriptions. Once Kyoko ended the tale, the inevitable question came.

“Kaa-san?”

“Yes?”

“Where do babies come from?”

“Hmm.” Kyoko pretended to ponder over the matter. “Well, they appear when an Okaa-san and an Otou-san wish very hard.”

“Oh. So I will wish.”

“Wish for what, Kaoru?”

“A little sister!”

“That’s such a nice wish.” Kyoko mildly replied. “Now, let’s go to sleep.”

Koshijiro fervently hoped that would be the end, but as the seasons changed, Kaoru was still loudly expressing her desire for a younger sister. It became a daily inquiry, and at last, Koshijiro decided to gently break the news to her, before going to bed.

“Perhaps, you should think of a new wish. A little sister probably isn’t on its way.”

“Why not?” She demanded.

“W-well…” He stammered, thrown off guard. “It takes two people to make that kind of a request?” Kyoko immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes shut and shoulders trembling with concealed laughter. “Two adults, like me and your mother.”

“Tou-san, then wish with Kaa-san.”

What had he done to deserve this conversation? “But when a baby comes, you can’t exchange it, even if it’s a boy.”

“A little brother would be okay too, like Hitomi-chan’s.” Kaoru conceded, referring to one of her older playmates.

Thankfully, Kyoko took over, still smiling from the aftershocks. “Kaoru, we waited a very long time for you. We wished and prayed and nearly gave up. I don’t know if we can be that lucky a second time. But if you’re feeling lonely, let’s invite Hitomi-chan and your other friends over more often. And there are other children who live nearby too. Maybe, there will be someone who would like a big sister. What do you think?”

“…alright.” Over her head, Kyoko and Koshijiro exchanged relieved glances.

***

Emperor Meiji ascended to the throne, and a power struggle with the shogunate seemed imminent. Nothing in the news was particularly uplifting, a prelude to the certain turmoil.

One wintry morning, he passed by Otou-san’s room and stopped. The door was wide open, though without signs of a struggle. In the front, his father’s shoes were missing, and a quick scan confirmed that the yard was empty. A sense of foreboding overcame him. He walked past the gate, looking down the road to find a set of shallow footprints. They led to a large tree, shielding any snow from covering Otou-san’s sitting form. As he approached, the foreboding grew stronger, and it was only confirmed when he gently placed his palm upon his father’s shoulder. There was no heat at all. Otou-san’s face was perfectly tranquil, his final moments of acceptance, and Koshijiro bowed his head.

“Thank you, and goodbye. I’ll take you to Okaa-san now.”

The funeral was surprisingly crowded, with many people offering to pay their respects. It was clear that Otou-san had been respected and loved, by not only his colleagues but also the neighborhood and his fellow artists. Noticeably, there were two figures who never showed, but Koshijiro did not mind. It was best that his wife and daughter wouldn’t meet his siblings. Preferably never at all. Otou-san’s ashes were laid to rest beside the simple grave of the woman he loved, and Koshijiro blinked back sudden tears at the sight of his parents, reunited in death.

Kyoko’s familiar hand slipped into his. “It’s alright. You can cry, if you need to.” She gently said.

“Forgive me, Kyoko. I don’t know why-” He broke off, his voice shaky. He didn’t know why his composure was crumbling at this moment, when he had handled the funeral arrangements so steadily.

“Shh. I’m here, and so is Kaoru. We’re here.” Her gaze shone with her own tears, and Kaoru clung to Koshijiro’s other side, brows drawn together. They remained in a close huddle, all the way home. The house was quieter, and sometimes, there’d be an extra bowl set out by accident, but like years ago, the grief was easier to bear with time.

That spring, he was on midnight patrol, lantern in hand. A distant clamor rerouted him, and he kept one hand on the hilt of his katana as he hurried towards the shouts. A couple of shadows were already fleeing, leaving four bodies. One emitted a weak rattling cough. He drew closer and the lantern’s glow illuminated the man’s bloody face. “Hayashi?!” He checked for a pulse on his friend’s slick neck. Rapid, but present. He stabilized Hayashi, just as his colleagues rushed over.

The story was that it had been a group of ruffians, looking for anyone to rob in this economic crisis. Hayashi did survive, though at the cost of a maimed right leg. He was despondent; such an injury meant an end to kenjutsu and his service to his lord. “I’ll be thrown away, who wants a cripple for protection?”

“Don’t say that,” Koshijiro tried to persuade him. “Focus on getting better first, before returning to work.”

“As if. Just leave me to die and go back to your own dojo.” Hayashi snarled. That only served to steel Koshijiro. He wrote to Maekawa and Kikuhara, requesting their assistance, and continued to visit with food and water.

Maekawa was there within the week, and spoke nothing of kenjutsu, just boisterously singing as he cleaned Hayashi’s row house. Kikuhara was unable to do anything in person, but he sent packages of books, paintings, and other things to pass the time with. At first, Hayashi shouted at them, to the point where he wore himself out. They took meals at his bedside if he wouldn’t move and changed his dressings, and although Maekawa was skeptical that they were helping at all, Koshijiro insisted they were. Hayashi’s strength was slow to build, given his initial resistance, but he left his bed in order for them to stop nagging, as he put it, and scowled as he ate. He no longer raised his voice or spoke of dying. Despite his perpetual bitter mood, it was progress.

Koshijiro believed they were going to finally get him out of the house, only to find that the door chained in place. Hayashi had left a folded note in one of the edges. Thank you for staying with me, but I need to find my own way in life again.

A search resulted in nothing. Maekawa expressed his characteristic confidence that Hayashi would be fine, wherever he ended up, and Koshijiro reluctantly accepted that he had to trust his friend would continue to live on.

His dojo was faring well; there were many who were eager to learn how to fight or have their sons learn. At seven, Kaoru relished helping out, and he tended to ask for her to demonstrate, especially for the newcomers. She was as old as he was, when he first started learning, and with her head start, she was very good at kenjutsu and knew it. She loved being in the dojo, and although Koshijiro was proud of her enthusiasm, she did fight with some of the boys who were prejudiced towards a female classmate and mistakenly believed she was weaker. More than once, he had to break up a tussle. Punishment was dealt equally too, he didn’t want to favor his daughter and he could handle her grumpiness afterward. If she wanted to spar those boys in a designated match, however, he never objected.

Kyoko was much more apprehensive. “I’m not saying she can’t be in the dojo. I don’t want to confine her; I want her to enjoy life.” She was very firm about that sentiment, given her upbringing. “But I’m worried she’ll be hurt. It’s different for women. Men are allowed to bear scars with pride, whereas we’re expected to hide them.”

“I understand, but she’s growing up and she knows how to pick herself up when she falls. Kaoru’s resilient, like you.”

“That’s kind of you to say, dear.” It was an evasive reply. She still wasn’t mollified and fretted over Kaoru’s bruises and scrapes. Kaoru complained about the thick ointments, that most of her injuries were accidents and in the increasingly rarer fights, the dumb boys kind of deserved it. Koshijiro silently agreed with the latter point, as he bandaged his daughter up.

The majority of his students were now outside the samurai class, and somehow, word must have spread because he had a spectator who lingered after one class.

“Are you interested in joining?” Koshijiro inquired.

“It would be an honor but no. I am here as a representative of Omura.” The man smiled. “Have you heard of him?”

“Omura Masujiro? The Choshu strategist?”

“Yes, I’m glad you recognized him. But are you are aware of the cause he fights for?”

“It seems you’ll tell me regardless.”

There was the usual talk about sonno joi, or the expulsion of foreigners. But one thing caught Koshijiro’s attention. “The samurai class has abused their power and wealth for far too long. What we want is to remind them that at their core, they are no better than anyone else. To level the field, so to speak, and put an end to the four class system. Think about it, and we’ll be in town.” He provided the name of an inn they frequented and departed.

The conversation kept surfacing in Koshijiro’s thoughts. He did not believe that foreign influence was totally beneficial. The consequences of famine, economic turmoil, and disease were too severe to be ignored. Hayashi was one of many who had suffered from the growing unrest among the people. But it was too late to close the borders again. The military was already incorporating Western technology, and Choshu was offering military training to commoners. Omura’s follower spoke of humbling the samurai. Abolishing the class structure…he could accept that idea. Takaoka was supporting Satsuma and Choshu, the leaders of the rebellion. They were gathering anyone who was willing to go to Kyoto and assist in the fight to end the shogunate. A number of samurai from Oyumi were going, including Koshijiro’s direct superior, but before he could leave, he had to speak to Kyoko and Kaoru.

Kyoko responded first. “Of course, I want you to stay and be safe. If you leave, you might never return. But…” She stared at her own hands, wrapped around her teacup. A few wisps of hair escaped from behind her ear, and he reached over to tuck them back. “You feel very strongly about this.” With an inhale, she firmly straightened and met his gaze. “Promise us you’ll survive.”

“I promise. Will you and Kaoru be alright?”

Their daughter hadn’t said anything yet, her eyes wide as she looked at them. Kyoko reached for her hands, drawing her closer.

“Kaoru and I will be fine. I’m certain we won’t be the only women left behind either. We’ll manage and welcome you home when you return.”

“We’ll be here, Otou-san, don’t worry about us.” Kaoru’s voice was subdued, but she attempted a smile.

“Thank you. I’ll be home again before you know.”

He had been very naïve.

***

His first experience with war could never be forgotten. From the march on foot to the first battle cry in earshot, it all stayed with him. Most of the early days blurred together, leaving the impression of sore feet and shoulders. But when they reached Kyoto, the adrenaline surged within him and his fingers shook as he loaded his gun.

One moment, it was quiet. The next, commands were shouted down the line, and then, there was cracking gunfire and smoke. The soldier next to him was struck by a bullet. The man in front was cut down, blood seeping through his uniform. Behind him, an enemy cannonball landed on people he couldn’t name but their screams of agony echoed forever.

It was madness. Every day was a fresh ordeal.

The first time he killed a man, it was with his sword. It had been a long day, and his opponent was too slow for one moment. That was all it took, Koshijiro’s blade sinking deeper than either of them expected. The man’s features slackened, and Koshijiro knew he was already gone. The body twitched several times, before finally falling as the sword was removed. Koshijiro’s feet were planted to the ground, which was gradually darkening in color.

I’m sorry.

The words died on his tongue, as a bullet flew past, the sound deafening and reminding him that to stay still in battle meant death. He couldn’t linger, he had to keep moving. He had promised Kyoko and Kaoru he would come home to them, and that became his anchor on the battlefield. Even if doing so meant that he had to feel hollow for all of the rest.

***

“Otou-san? Otou-san?”

Koshijiro jolted. Kaoru was standing before him. When had she approached? He hadn’t noticed.

She beamed at him. “We’re having lunch now.” The sunlit yard stretched behind her, and he gripped the edges of the porch.

He had been home for a week, yet nothing felt real. He should be happy, he was alive and not in bad shape. Many men had not returned at all. But he felt like part of him had been left behind on the battlefield, drifting aimlessly and pulling the rest of him with it until a loud noise startled him and then he was on edge. It wore him out; he was constantly tired, despite waking well after sunrise. And there were the nightmares. He didn’t feel right.

Things had changed in Chiba too. Osue had succumbed to pneumonia in his absence, and he had already paid numb respects to the faithful old woman. Kyoko was understandably melancholy, not helped at all by how her illness had taken a turn. She was on bedrest, and her medicines had increased in quantity. Neither of them were sure how well they were working.

“We met a woman who teaches kenjutsu.”

“You did?”

“Her name is Chiba-san, as in the Chiba clan. Kaoru and I were buying groceries, and she was in her uniform. She was kind enough to invite us to her afternoon lesson. Kaoru really enjoyed it, so I feel more at ease.”

“Then, you can attend her lessons more often. It would be good for Kaoru.” He hadn’t been teaching, he wasn’t ready. Kyoko understood, but Kaoru clearly missed it. Even though she liked Chiba-san’s lessons, he overheard the two of them talking, while they thought he was having a nap.

“Is Otou-san going to be okay?”

“I don’t know yet, Kaoru.”

“He doesn’t talk about the war. It must have been scary.”

“It would be better not to ask. There are some things your father can’t share with us, that he wants to shield us from.” Kyoko evenly said. “When it’s time, he’ll share.”

“And what if he never does?”

“Then, that’s alright. We’ll be here to support him, just like always. He’s still your Otou-san, no matter what.”

“Oh. I get it now.”

His sight flooded and he doubled over. Kyoko and her infinite patience! And his innocent daughter, whose feelings were hurt. Here he was, being pathetic. He didn’t step out to acknowledge them, but he resolved in his heart that he would try to return to normal.

He wrote a routine for himself, including meditation and what to think of to pull himself back to reality. He was out of bed before his wife and daughter, to clean the dojo and equipment, before reintroducing kenjutsu back into his life. But he couldn’t use a real blade anymore. Never again, not even to keep students. He couldn’t let go of the sword, but he could forge a new relationship with it, to protect who was important to him. He began drafting new kata, on defending and disarming. The work anchored him even further, kept him from falling too deeply into listlessness.

Kyoko and Kaoru were encouraging, every step of the way. His wife woke him from the worst nightmares, and she intuitively knew when to give him space and when to be near. She always made her presence known, never startling him. When he returned to work, his satchel hid little notes in her handwriting, heartfelt reminders that pushed back against his dark thoughts. Kaoru was determined to make him smile once a day. Her good cheer was infectious, as she took over in leading their daily stretches. Upon finding her mother’s notes, she added her own, complete with the signature she was practicing. One of her first sewing projects was a handkerchief for him, a fine dark green with three leaves, and she presented it with such pride, his weariness lifted.

It wasn’t always easy. Some days, he faltered, folded in on himself. It wasn’t until months later that he could think back and realize how low he had been. He wasn’t certain if he’d ever feel like that again, but he learned to recognize the triggers and cope.

Now that the Emperor had moved to the freshly renamed Tokyo and there was peace at last, properties were up for grabs. The more Koshijiro heard, the more he leaned into the possibility. There was excellent medical care in the capital, and plenty of work to be had. The influx of people also meant more potential students. It was a time for change, and when would another opportunity like this occur again?

The paperwork was quickly finalized and they packed their belongings. By year’s end, they were settled into their new home in Tokyo. Koshijiro had commissioned renovations and additions, and though the house was larger than needed for a family of three, he and Kyoko discussed accepting boarders to pay off the debt. But the bathhouse was worth it, to the delight of Kyoko and Kaoru, and he liked his dojo very much. The wood smelled fresh and fragrant, and he pivoted in the open space. The light poured in, washing over his face. This was his school, the one he had yearned for all these years. A school of swordsmanship that would use the blade to protect, never to kill. A school that would represent a vow for the present and a wish for the future.

Kamiya Kasshin. The living heart.

***

At first, he thought the Kamiya plot had moved, because there were only supposed to be three graves, for his parents and Kyoko. So the fourth had puzzled him for a moment, before he realized whose it was. Oh. Well, this was very strange, to see his own grave.

“Kenkaku Koshimichi Koki…?” He muttered. The Buddhist name he had been granted for the afterlife felt like it belonged to a different person entirely.

Fortunately, there weren’t many weeds. The ones that were present gave his right shoulder enough work. As he was finishing up, a kind couple offered to scrub down the headstones and light the incense. They made small talk, that they were newlyweds and he had married into her family. They refused any monetary payment, and with clasped hands, they were soon on their way. Alone, Koshijiro knelt.

“I’m a little early, but I thought these flowers would be nice. And sorry, that Kaoru isn’t here with me.” It would be nearly eighteen years ago, that she was born. “I’d rather celebrate her birthday when she’s home. We’ve missed out on that, the past two times.”

The wind ruffled his hair. It was getting longer, he needed a trim.

“I’ve been working on adjusting Kamiya Kasshin, for a one-handed variant. Not just for me, but for Yutaro and those in similar situations. It would also be good for anyone who’s been injured.” For that matter, injured people weren’t far from his mind. “Even though I’d like to be there, fighting with them.” He stood, brushed off his sore knees, and gave a last smile. “I’ll be back for Obon, with Kaoru and everyone else.”

***

After multiple appointments, Kyoko finally spoke the truth aloud. “I’m not going to live much longer, am I?”

Dr. Gensai slowly nodded. “Yes. I wish I could do something, anything.”

“You’ve done so much already, ever since we moved here last year.”

Kaoru worked her way under Kyoko’s arm, half-crawling into her lap. “Okaa-san.”

Koshijiro was barely listening, the world closing upon the clinic’s room. Nothing seemed real at that moment.

As the days passed, the neighborhood pitched in. His police colleagues covered extra shifts in his place, and their wives kept Kyoko company while he was working. He received plenty of groceries with a hand wave in regards to payment, which he never got used to. There was always something on the table for dinner. An acquaintance by some degrees, the apprentice of an artisan who had admired the work of Kamiya Keiichiro, offered to paint Kyoko’s picture, free of charge. The ink portrait was very somber, unlike his wife, but Kyoko appreciated the gesture. To Dr. Gensai and the rest of their visitors, she seemed accepting and strong.

However, when it was just the two of them, she was afraid of dying.

“I don’t want to go. I need to live, just a while longer, until Kaoru is a little older.” She sobbed, and it took all of Koshijiro’s willpower not to break down. He held her and didn’t speak, his throat burning.

Kaoru was on her best behavior, ensuring her mother was warm and had food. She braided both of their hair at night and chose Kyoko’s clothes in the morning. She read aloud, stumbling on a few unfamiliar words and making up for the little mistakes with her own interest in the novels.

Sometimes, his wife was too fatigued by the pain in her abdomen. Her hand shook when she drew her fingers through Kaoru’s ponytail. It was too easy for her to be out of breath. But she was focused on one task in particular, and he found her carefully writing when she was able.

“It’s our family book.” She showed him the familiar cover of the volume that told the stories of their pasts. She had been updating it over the years. “The next few pages are for Kaoru, for when she’s a young woman. I’ve already written your pages, for when you feel troubled.”

“Kyoko…”

“I only want you to be well. And I’m sorry.” She pressed the heel of her palm to her eyes and gave a short laugh. “Oh no, not again.”

“No, Kyoko, don’t apologize.” He drew her trembling form into his arms and breathed in the scent of her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve fought a harder battle than many ever will, and even now, you handle it with grace in front of Kaoru.”

“I don’t want her to worry about me, but I think she knows anyway. She’s a good girl, our daughter. She’ll be a lovely young lady someday.” Her tone was bittersweet with longing. “My kimonos have been set aside for her?”

“Yes, for when the time is right.”

“Mm. Hopefully, they won’t be too out of fashion.”

“They’ll suit Kaoru well. I saw the blue one with the cranes, the one you wore when we met.”

“That was almost twenty years ago, right? I still remember that day, I knew you were kind and honorable. I think I loved you from the moment I told you my name. I never expected to have this, any of this. But I’ve seen the cherry blossoms each year with you, my husband who I’m very proud of. Every day with you has been wonderful.”

“I haven’t been at my best every day. Most days, perhaps even half.”

She shook her head, mouth curving upwards. “No, really. Every day.” She brought her hand to the side of his face, and he leaned in to kiss her.

By autumn, she was in the hospital again. She was deteriorating fast, yet she held onto Koshijiro’s hand as the doctors came in and out. She was too weak to leave her bed, and he held back her hair when her nausea was too powerful to keep at bay. The worst was when she didn’t seem to recognize him or Kaoru, rapidly blinking at them when they greeted her. Her confusion was frightening, and he always ushered Kaoru out, saying that Okaa-san needed her rest. But she was sharp enough to notice.

“It’s so hard to see her like this. I wish I could do something!” She exclaimed, kicking a stray pebble in the road.

“I feel the same. I’d rather it be me in her place.”

“Otou-san, you shouldn’t be in the hospital either.” Kaoru corrected, slumping. “All of us should be home.”

He couldn’t argue, and he took her hand as they departed.

The weather chilled, the leaves bright with color. Flowers were in rare abundance, but they managed to procure an armful of pink dianthus. Kaoru strode into the hospital room, petals falling in her wake.

“Okaa-san, we’re here to visit!”

“Hello.” Her voice was barely audible but her expression was warm.

Koshijiro was relieved she was lucid. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“No, I just woke up. What time is it?”

He told her, as Kaoru arranged the bouquet by the window.

“Oh, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” Tears welled up in her gaze. “You have such a good heart, Kaoru.” She swallowed hard, intent on making her words count. “You’ve been so helpful, so sweet and strong. I’ve told you as much as I can, but if it isn’t enough, know that you’re never alone. Listen to Otou-san, and remember that he wants what’s best for you. There’s always the book, if you need it.”

“I know where the book is. I just want you.” Kaoru quietly replied.

Kyoko was too overcome to speak, cupping Kaoru’s face. Koshijiro sat at her other side, wrapping his arm around her. They huddled close, their conversation meandering; what mattered most was that they were in the present together, for as long as it could last. Eventually, Kyoko’s breathing deepened and her eyes struggled to stay open.

“We’ll be back later.” Koshijiro promised, hesitantly extricating himself.

“See you soon, Okaa-san. Love you.” Kaoru kissed her cheek, and Kyoko gave a fragile smile.

“I love you too. I love you both so much.” Those were her last words, before she fell asleep.

By the following evening, she still hadn’t woken. A number of white-clad hospital staff filled her room, exchanging words that swept over his understanding until someone explained. Kyoko was comatose. He was going to send Kaoru home, but she stamped her foot and insisted on staying. One of the doctors offered a spare office for her to sleep in, while Koshijiro remained by Kyoko’s side. It would not be long before the end, he was warned but he would not budge. He wouldn’t let her go while she was alone.

Her weak pulse fluttered under his thumb, stopping for long seconds before picking up again. His dear, persistent Kyoko. He cupped her cheek and bent his head close, uncertain if she could hear him, but he whispered into her ear. “It’s alright, Kyoko. We don’t want you to be in pain. It’s alright.”

It was ultimately a blessing that Kyoko did not linger. Before midnight, she slipped away. Koshijiro pressed his lips to hers, in one last kiss. Then, he went to Kaoru.

She stirred awake when he touched her shoulder. “Otou-san?” Her eyes were wide with apprehension.

“She’s gone.”

“Can I see her?”

He could only nod, and he led her into the room. Kaoru climbed onto the hospital bed, and stifled her sobs into Kyoko’s neck. He held her cold hand, engraving the memory of her skin into his mind. They remained there until the very last minute.

***

The funeral was accompanied by a light rain. His arms were burdened with the container of Kyoko’s ashes, and his shoulders hunched unconsciously to protect what was left of his wife from the weather. Kaoru walked beside him, quiet and matching one of his paces with two of her own. The stoic procession marched to the cemetery, and Kyoko was buried in heavy silence.

Time passed by sluggishly. The house was too quiet, and he resorted to kenjutsu, to an escape. If he kept his body occupied and moving, he would not have to think about how empty he felt.

“Otou-san?”

The timid question stopped him mid-step, and he turned to see his daughter standing in the doorway.

“Um. I tried to make lunch. Do you want to eat yet? Because you didn’t have breakfast…”

His gut reaction was to decline, he had probably lost his appetite forever. But he stared at his daughter’s round eyes, the quiver in her chin as she waited for his answer.

No. I can’t give up, I’m all Kaoru has now, and so, I must keep up my strength.

“Alright. Let’s have lunch.”

The onigiri were misshapen, lopsided triangles. There was probably a little too much salt, but to his fatigued body, the flavor wasn’t bad. The rice was definitely undercooked though, and the only sound in the room was the crunch of grains between teeth.

Then, there was a sniffle. Koshijiro lifted his head, to see Kaoru frowning and wiping away tears, even as she chewed. “Sorry.” She warbled. “It doesn’t taste good.”

“Kaoru…” He reached over the table, to awkwardly pat her head. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I’m your father, it’s my duty to provide for you. But I’ve been neglecting you. I’m so sorry.”

“Mm.” She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her sleeve across her face.

“Don’t worry about cooking anymore. I’ll hire a new housekeeper to take care of that. I’ll also open the rooms to boarders so we can pay off the rest of the debt. Soon, I’ll continue teaching.”

“Can I be a student again?”

“Yes. The position of head student will always be yours, until you can teach with me.”

“And then?”

“And then, you’ll be assistant instructor. After that, head instructor. The dojo will be yours, and I’ll write it down so no one can take that away from you.”

Kaoru nodded. “Otou-san?”

“Hm?”

“Can I talk about Okaa-san?”

“Your mother loved stories. I think she’d like nothing more than for you to tell stories about her.”

She slowly nodded. “Will you?”

“Perhaps not right away. But even if I don’t speak, she’s always here.” He placed his hand over his heart. “And here.” He pointed to the same spot on his daughter, and she laid her fingers upon it in understanding.

“Okay. I can talk about her for both of us.”

He didn’t respond, but he patted her head again and they continued on.

It was not easy, raising a daughter alone. As much as Kaoru looked like his dear wife, she had inherited her temper from him. They did argue, over trivial matters in hindsight, but such discussions usually ended in Kaoru slamming the door to her room and for him to thumb through his designated pages in Kyoko’s book, rereading her overarching message of love and patience. He would not repeat the mistakes of his youth, and he would knock on her door, requesting that they talk. Thankfully, her anger usually blew over quickly and he made it a point to apologize to each other.

Kamiya Kasshin was ultimately a family project. Kaoru was the first student to try the new techniques, and from observing her as well, Koshijiro made necessary changes and adjustments. His daughter was a natural at kenjutsu, and she freely challenged him.

“Wouldn’t another step work for this kata? I feel like I need to get my balance back from the last turn.”

“That’s fine, but you might run into trouble if you’re in a tight space.”

“Well, that just means it’s more important to rebalance.”

“It seems the turn’s causing the issue. What if we move it up, earlier in the sequence?”

“Yeah, that could work too!”

He did hire a housekeeper, but the middle-aged woman was far stricter than her initial interview conveyed. She heavily disapproved of Kaoru’s love for swordsmanship, insisting that she rise before dawn and sleep late, to complete extra household tasks. But Kaoru was unhappier every day, and it came to a head when the housekeeper mentioned the dreaded word of “marriage”. Kaoru was late for practice and he was searching for her, overhearing the raised voices in the kitchen.

“Why would I care about some husband I haven’t even met yet?” Kaoru exploded. “I’m me and I should be loved for who I am, not because I’m ladylike enough!”

“Your education should have started when you were much younger. Now, I fear it’s too late to salvage.” She glanced over at Koshijiro, striding towards them. “Ah, here’s your father.” If she was expecting him to defend her viewpoint, he was glad to disappoint her.

“I need her in the dojo. Don’t delay her and for that matter, we will not speak of marrying her off. Kaoru is only ten.” He firmly stated. “End of discussion.”

“You spoil her far too much. If she were my daughter, she’d be a proper girl and run the house on her own. I’m not sure what your wife did-”

“And that is where you stop, because she’s not your child, she’s mine.” He coldly dismissed her. “Pack your things and I’ll give you your pay for the week. We have no more need of your services.”

She huffed and gave them nasty looks but didn’t say another word. Before noon, the gate soundly shut behind her.

“Well…that probably went as well as it could.” He said at last.

Kaoru laughed. “I thought it was great. Thank you, Otou-san.” She hugged him and he patted her head. Then, she pouted. “Does this mean we need to find someone new?”

“We can wait a while.” Soon after, they met Sekihara Tae, whose friendship was much appreciated.

When Kaoru was twelve, they had the pleasant surprise of a visitor. Kikuhara was traveling through, and he was interested in the school Koshijiro had described in a New Year’s card. He joined the class as an observer, then to help with basic forms. He began to follow along with the students, and he caught on quickly. After a month, he held his own in sparring against Koshijiro. Kaoru called the close match in Koshijiro’s favor, but they were happy with the outcome.

Kikuhara’s objective seemed to be complete too. He opened a pocket watch and examined the inside. “It’s time for me to go. I have someone to return to now.” With a smile, he turned the watch around to show Koshijiro a photograph of a young girl, no older than five. “My daughter, Midori.”

“A daughter? You…married?”

“No.” Kikuhara paused. “I haven’t told anyone else this, but she’s the illegitimate child of my lord. I was tasked to care for her, but the moment she was placed in my arms, I knew she was as good as my own. She’s very frail though, and she isn’t interested in kenjutsu, unlike your Kaoru. But she’s kindhearted, like her real father.”

“With no offense to your lord, you are her father now and I’m sure she misses you.” Koshijiro pointed out without malice. “If you need any advice on raising her, please let me know.”

“I’ll remember, senpai.” He joked. “I will be sure to bother you about teaching as well. I like some of the kata from Kamiya Kasshin, and its message is honorable. I’m interested in sharing it in Echigo, alongside my own family’s tradition. Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

“And I’ll call it…Kasshin Shintoryu Kikuhara?”

“Please don’t, you can just keep your family’s name for the school.” He was embarrassed.

“No, it’s a good name, and I’ll be happy to teach under its sign.” At the end of his stay, they saw him off with waves and promises of a future reunion, when Midori was older.

Years passed. He filled a book with the knowledge of Kamiya Kasshin, leaving it in the altar alongside Kyoko’s volume. Kaoru was promoted to assistant instructor after demonstrating mastery in the last kata, and she taught the youngest students while he focused on the older ones. They made a good team. The dojo was raucous with clashing bokken and conversation, and for some time, life was uneventful.

***

That changed when Kumamoto Castle was taken by the Satsuma army. Before the week’s end, the draft letter arrived, summoning Koshijiro to the warfront once more. He was standing frozen in the front yard and numbly rereading the notice, thinking of how he could hide it before he had a proper chance to speak to Kaoru, when she called out.

“Otou-san, what’s taking you so long?” Too late, her gaze landed on the official stamp on the envelope, and she immediately blanched. “Otou-san?”

“I’m sorry, Kaoru.”

“Why are you apologizing?!” She gave a nervous laugh. “It’s not like you chose to go.”

“In a way, I did when I joined the police.”

“Otou-san, don’t say that. I know you don’t really think so.” She touched his shoulder. “Are you going to be alright?”

“I’m more worried about you. You’ll be alone.”

“No, I won’t. I have the students, and Tae’s in town. And I can always bring on more boarders.” At his distasteful expression, she scowled. “Don’t say anything about protecting me, because I can defend myself. You know I can!”

“I’m only telling you to be cautious.”

“I am.” She grumbled.

He excused himself, to find two items. One was his tanto, and the other was his father’s. He handed the sheathed blades to her. “Keep one under your pillow, and the other in the secret compartment in the bathhouse.”

“Otou-san.”

“Remember to lock your room every night.”

“Otou-san, I’ll remember. But how are you coping? You’re being called back to war, you’ll have to…” Kill people again. The unspoken words hung in the air.

“I don’t look forward to it, but I will do my best to avoid a worst case scenario. With Kamiya Kasshin, I can disarm as many as I can.”

At that, she lit up. “So, we should train as much as possible. And I want to master the succession techniques before you go!”

That was a good idea. After lessons, they practice sparred, and Koshijiro pinpointed where she needed to improve. Not that there was much, but he wanted to teach her everything he could before leaving. The last afternoon eventually came; Kaoru focused solely on Hadome and Hawatari. She was on the verge of breaking through, and she recognized as much.

“I almost had it! And I knew where I went wrong too! One more time, Otou-san?”

“No, you’re tired. It’s already been over two hours, and I can tell you’re too exhausted to proceed any further today. We should stop here.”

She groaned, slumping. “But I wanted to master them before you left, so you can see.”

“Mastering these techniques shouldn’t be rushed, especially for my sake. You are close. So, not yet, but you’re getting better every time.” He wouldn’t be here to watch her progress though, after this day.

She must have thought so too, for she set her bokken aside and fiercely hugged him. He squeezed her back, hoping it could convey all of what he couldn’t say aloud.

The morning of departure was somber. Kaoru made breakfast, which he ate without complaint. He donned his uniform and hated that his daughter looked so sad when she saw him. However, she didn’t mention it, only asking if he had everything he needed. She trailed him past the front door, the frosted grass crackling under their footsteps.

“I’ll see you soon, Otou-san.” She said, decidedly using the temporary farewell.

“Yes. Protect the school while I’m gone, and go back inside, before you catch a cold. I’ll see you soon, Kaoru.” He clasped her shoulder, hoping to give some strength to her. Then, with great reluctance, he let go and walked alone. He closed the gate behind him, waited until Kaoru locked it again, and headed into town to join his regiment.

The journey to Satsuma was taxing, as they sailed towards Kyushu. He wasn’t as young as many of the other men, and when they camped on the southern island, he fell asleep once his head touched his pillow. The nightmares trickled back, becoming more convoluted every night. The return to the battlefield was dreaded by the other policemen, especially since they were only given wooden batons and swords. He couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved by the lack of a gun. He struck at shoulders, feet, anywhere that wasn’t lethal.

Months passed, as Saigo Takamori’s defeat forced him to flee and the Imperial army followed suit. The minor skirmishes with Saigo’s men culminated into a pincer attack on the Satsuma rebels. Koshijiro gritted his teeth and continued with striking through. To move forward, so this could be over as soon as possible. Suddenly, the line fell back, and he was perplexed for a moment, before the surrounding shouts alerted that there would be shelling. The order was to retreat, to gain as much distance for the explosions that would soon rock the battleground. Koshijiro didn’t even have to time to sheath his sword, the adrenaline humming under his skin, demanding to run as fast and far as he could. The men were tripping over each other and cursing, the fear and apprehension whittling their tempers.

A distant boom, then faint screams. Two steps later, it repeated, only closer. How much time did he have left? Koshijiro’s heart pounded out the tense seconds. A young soldier, barely older than Kaoru, stumbled to his right. Koshijiro switched his katana to his left hand and grabbed the boy’s collar. Using the momentum of his own body, he thrust the boy in front. “Take cover!” He bellowed.

Sound. It deafened him.

Force. His left arm, still outstretched behind him, twisted.

Heat. It seemed to split his skin open.

Pain. And that was enough for his eyes to roll back.

Forgive me, Kaoru-

***

He woke up, and he could hardly draw breath. He blinked. He had his sight. He was on his back, staring up at a white ceiling. The clamor of groaning men filled his ears. The smells of urine and blood were strong, and he didn’t dare open his dry mouth. He was in a hospital, a crowded one at that. For how long, he didn’t know.

I’m Kamiya Koshijiro, forty-five years old. I have a daughter, Kaoru, who is seventeen. We live in Tokyo. I work with the Tokyo Metropolitan police. I teach Kamiya Kasshin, the sword that protects.

There, his memory was intact. Although when he tried to remember what happened after the explosion, he couldn’t recall anything after the storm of sensation. He must have fainted. He twitched his fingers, his toes. No pain. He turned his head right. Well, his neck wasn’t broken, just stiff. Against his pillow, there was soft friction; the back of his head was bandaged. His right forearm bore the healing crust of a scrape, and he deduced he must have fallen on that side. But he could move his wrist and elbow joints, so there were no fractures. He checked the left-

Immediately, he jerked his head away. Shock kicked in. He didn’t have an arm. His left arm was gone. There was just wrapped white cloth, encasing the end of his shoulder. Then, why could he still feel it, down to the fingertips? He looked again, to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

He stared and stared and stared. He didn’t have an arm.

Distantly, he heard a nurse call out that he was awake, and footsteps approached. A doctor introduced himself before asking identifying questions. Koshijiro’s voice was raspy from disuse but he demonstrated he knew who he was. The doctor provided new details.

Koshijiro was in a hospital close to one of the harbors in Satsuma. A week had passed. The Imperial army was fighting on, with the last of the rebel forces weakened. Most of the province was back in the Emperor’s control and it would be a matter of weeks before Saigo surrendered. Reportedly, Koshijiro was found on the battlefield, alone and unconscious. When he was moved here, he had convulsed to reality and blood loss brought him under again.

Overall, he was in rough shape. The explosion had singed some of his hair off, and his skull had to be partially shaved. He had superficial burns on his back, that worsened on his left side. His right knee was swollen and abraded, and part of his big toenail was torn. His body bore minor cuts and bruises from landing. And he no longer had a left arm. The doctor actually had to remove more bone and tissue because what remained after the blast was not clean. But it was free from shrapnel and they could only do their best to prevent gangrene.

He was warned that there would be pain, that his body would not properly recognize that his left arm was gone. Multiple medicines were given to him, and his mouth gained a perpetual bitter taste. He slept in fits throughout his stay. All around him, other men were dying. He always noticed when another body was carried out.

A week passed, but he wasn’t quite healing. He forced himself to look at the dressings as they were changed, and they didn’t seem promising. He bitterly thought he couldn’t recover as well as he could in this place, but he had no say here. And then, one morning, he felt lethargic and his stomach sank in realization. A small part of him clung to hope that it would pass soon, but he forgot it as he became more and more delirious.

The hospital staff was saying he was feverish, and he groggily understood it was bad, because he felt so cold. Sleep was tempting. There was more medicine, more people hovering over him. He felt numb, it would be very easy to sleep forever. Too weak to struggle, his eyes closed.

He did not expect to dream.

He was sitting on the porch, the moon abnormally large and bright above. A quiet warm summer’s night. And he couldn’t see her, but he could feel Kyoko’s presence, as if she was standing behind him.

You’re so close.

I know. But not yet, Kyoko. I made a promise to you, didn’t I?

It was as if she was laughing, her breath warm against his neck. Then, please go home.

Yes. He couldn’t possibly disobey and he was swallowed once more by the void.

When he woke, his fever had broken. To the doctors’ surprise and awe, he had overcome the infection. He didn’t feel like it was miraculous at all; he had made promises and he intended to keep them. Once he heard his wounds were healed, he declared. “I’m leaving.” The response was dismissive, until he tried to leave his bed. He’d had enough of being in the hospital, he argued, and he’d heal more if he wasn’t restrained. That only sent him to another facility, with others in slightly better condition. From so much time on bedrest, he was frustratingly weak, and his legs shook underneath him when he attempted to walk around. But he pushed on, easily recalling a blue-clad figure with braids in her family’s yard, and conjuring a younger one, years later, who must be teaching in the dojo. Even if he no longer had one arm, he still had the other, his legs, and his head. That was good enough to get by. By the time he was discharged, the war had ended with Saigo’s suicide. His return home was overdue but winter’s approach undercut his pace. He was trying desperately not to get sick again.

The initial leg was frustratingly slow. He had no money, and any innkeeper dismissed his offer of labor. One benefit about his amputation was that it was noticeable, and kind strangers would grant him a night or two in a stable or on a fishing boat. But most people tended to avoid his gaze, so he did his best to keep moving. The new phantom pains were excruciating, his ghostly arm wrenching as it had in its final moments. Those incapacitating occasions, as well as his poor physical shape, forced him to rest often, to his chagrin.

He took one such break, on the wayside of a market street. He had managed to buy passage back to Honshu, though it meant he had to agree to a slight detour, since the port was not close to the main roads he recognized. This town was bustling with naval activity, thanks to the iron ships anchored in the dark water. The marine air was soothing, and the latest episode of pain ebbed with each deep breath.

“Ojii-san, where did your arm go?”

He startled, and in his periphery, a little boy stared at him with round eyes. There was a flood of emotion, but his most prominent thought was: I can’t tell this child it was blown off! “Well…” He searched for an appropriate thing to say. “I traded it.”

“For what?”

“So I could go home.”

A woman in her early thirties approached, holding the hand of a slightly older boy. “Sadatake! Oh, I’m so sorry.” The mother was so mortified, bowing her head multiple times. Her obi rested low, under the modest curve of her belly. “Sadatake, apologize to this uncle.”

“Sorry.”

“Please, don’t concern yourselves over it.”

She searched his face for a moment. “You look like you could use some rest and good food. Why don’t you come to our place? My husband wouldn’t mind at all.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“No, I insist.” She pressed her palm on her rounded abdomen and smiled beatifically. The underlying message was not to upset her. “And my husband’s heading this way right now.” She directed her gaze over his shoulder, and he pivoted.

What he saw stunned him.

The man had plenty of silver in his hair, and his right leg dragged with each step, though the sleeping toddler draped over his shoulder didn’t help. Those fox eyes had regained their spark and framed by creases, they widened in recognition. “Kamiya? Kamiya Koshijiro?”

“Hayashi.” He shook his head at the incredulity of the moment, and he gestured to the site of his recent loss. “After all this time, I would certainly like to talk to you.”

The family led the way to a modest house, near Hayashi’s workplace at a naval office. The boys were young, having turned three, five, and seven, and they had just finished celebrating the milestone thrice over. Hayashi was a long way off from his former devastated self. Koshijiro felt a mixture of relief and sympathy as he watched his friend mind the little ones’ table manners at dinner.

“Sadakazu, here, move your cup away so you won’t spill it. Sadanori, wipe your mouth.” Even as he was speaking, he was already carrying out the actions, inspecting his youngest’s face one last time to ensure it was thoroughly clean. Hayashi’s wife fondly watched the spectacle, as Sadatake ate beside her.

The comfort of having a meal at a full table was a balm to Koshijiro’s weary spirit. After the dishes were cleared and the boys were sent to bed, despite their loud protests, Hayashi poured out two cups of warm sake. Koshijiro inhaled the fragrance, appreciating the liquor.

“Been saving up this bottle for a while, and I’m glad I did. I haven’t had the chance to drink in a while either.”

He took a sip. Just hot enough and very good indeed. “I didn’t know you’d become a family man.”

“I didn’t really expect to be one.” Hayashi admitted. “During the Bakumatsu, I was here, watching the troops travel past and trying not to feel useless. But Akie’s family clan sided with the Satcho alliance, and that’s how we met. There wasn’t much of a ceremony, because we married against her family’s wishes. I don’t blame them; I can still hardly believe she’d pick me. But before I could scare her off, the boys came along. Now it’s twins, so I hope at least one of them can convince the rest to be calm and kind to their old father.”

Koshijiro laughed. It was the first time in months, he realized, that he had. “You’ll miss some of it when they’re this young.”

“You have a family, don’t you? A daughter?”

“Yes, Kaoru is in Tokyo. Kyoko passed away, seven years ago.”

Hayashi’s jaw clenched. “I’m sorry. But you made her happy, anyone could see that. ”

Koshijiro chose not to reply, instead drinking from his cup.

“How old is your daughter now?”

“She’s seventeen.” He had missed her birthday. Discomfort spread through him.

“Damn, you’ll probably be marrying her off before the twins arrive.”

“Kaoru’s still young.”

“I was married to my first wife when I was younger than that.” Hayashi countered. “And it’s been months since you’ve been gone.”

Koshijiro frowned. “I need to return.”

“Ah, you haven’t changed much at all.” His friend grinned. “Maekawa’s in Tokyo too, right? Well, don’t tell him or anyone else yet that I’m here. I will, when I’m ready. Probably after Akie delivers.”

“I think they’d be glad to know you’re living well, but I understand.” The last of the alcohol was drained, and Hayashi thumped his back before urging him to retire. That night, he slept comfortably.

Before dawn broke, he intended to leave quietly, not to bother them anymore and to get a head start on his day. But he wasn’t as quiet as he hoped, for rustling noises carried over into the hallway. He tried to quicken his pace, but a door slid open.

“Gotcha.”

His sighed. “Good morning, Hayashi. And Akie-san.” The couple walked towards him with intent, Hayashi’s hand in his robe.

His friend clicked his tongue. “Good morning indeed. Were you trying to sneak away? How foolish, Kamiya. My wife’s hearing is not to be underestimated. Especially since we want to give you this.” He pushed a cloth bag into Koshijiro’s hand, the hefty weight studded with the metal ridges of the coins within.

“I can’t possibly accept. Please, keep this for your children.”

“They have plenty already. You, on the other hand, don’t have a naval secretary father, so take it.”

Akie added. “It’s a long road to Tokyo, especially when traveling alone. If you can find safety on a boat, a train, or even a cart, we’d be at ease knowing you have the means.” She then kept her voice low. “And I wanted to personally thank you. I know what you and your friends did for my husband, all those years ago, and it’s because of you that I have him. That I have my children and this life. I hope this is a fraction of what I owe you.”

His resistance crumbled. “…I promise not to squander it. In return, I hope you have a safe delivery.” He stepped out, to slip on his shoes.

Hayashi held his wife by the waist, to shield her from the morning chill, and raised his hand in farewell. “If you ever need anything else, let me know.”

“I will, and thank you. It was good to see you.” They bowed to one another, and he did not look back. His path was clear.

The days unfolded, one after another. At last, the surroundings became familiar, and every step took him towards the dojo, his school, and Kaoru.

***

In the first week of July, the Kyoto police informed them that Shishio and his followers had revealed themselves. Koshijiro was loath to miss an incoming message, and he remained at the station with the night shift, catching himself from nodding off until his sore neck forced him to trudge back to the empty house. The contingency plan was never far from his mind, even manifesting in his dreams. He was awake for good when the news came that Shishio’s ship was burning and falling to pieces off the shoreline. And then, there was another telegram within the hour.

“This one was specifically meant for you, Officer Kamiya.” The chief wryly said. “From your daughter.”

It was short but conveyed so much. WE WON. ALL SAFE.

If he was the type to dance, he could have danced all the way home. But he wasn’t, and ultimately, that meant he noticed that the lights were still on in Dr. Gensai’s clinic. When he knocked, Takani opened up, her eyes tired but offering a little smile when she recognized him. “Kamiya-san?”

“Yes, I have good news. The battle was won in Kyoto.” He showed her the telegram with pride.

“Really?” She exhaled in relief. “I’m so thankful. But it must have been difficult. I would like to see if they need care…”

“Then, let’s go. We’ll leave with the first train in the morning.”

“Just like that?” Takani laughed. “Well, I won’t argue. I’ll tell Dr. Gensai and get my supplies. See you in a few hours.”

He could hardly wait.

[yutahoes]

Questions

pairing : dad! Yuta Nakamoto x mom! reader, Shiho, Shinichi

word count : 2.5k words

genre : fluff, a little dramatic, slightly suggestive

summary : Being a mom is hard. Being a mom on a period is harder. 

a/n : I suck at summaries. 🤦‍♀️ This is originally titled Emotions in my WIP but decided a last minute switch. Posting this as apology for not being active in Tumblr. A lot of things had to be done. Please enjoy this small domestic scenario. 

It was that time of the month again. Blood. Cramps. Annoying hormones. You thought having kids would lessen the painful menstrual cramps but if possible, it just worsens it. 

Additional to the pain is the fact that you have to cook dinner for your two kids and your husband who was going home after a long day of work. A loud cry can be heard from the living room that made you sigh. Shin. "Noona, can you make Shinichi stop crying?" You asked from the kitchen, putting the curry mix in the pot. But the cries got louder and you can hear your daughter grunting.

"This is mine. This is my rabbit." Shiho shouted, taking away the pink rabbit doll from her brother's grasp. Shin kept on crying, tightly holding on. 

You sighed. "Noona, can you just let Shin borrow your doll?" You asked, trying your best to be calm. "You have lots of toys already." You gestured at the lego blocks and tea sets scattered on the floor of your living room. 

"But this is mine!" She shouted. 

"I know, just let Shin borrow it for…" A loud rip can be heard, the doll's rabbit ear was on Shiho's hand as she fell on the carpeted floor. The rest of the body in your son's arms as he stopped crying to look at his sister crying on the floor. "Shiho please, stop crying. We'll get your rabbit…" 

She hastily wiped her tears, standing up and throwing the ripped rabbit ear on the floor. "I hate you and Shin!" The statement took you in surprise. You've never seen her like this before. "I wish Shin wasn't born! I love daddy more than you. I hate you!" 

"Shiho Nakamoto!" You said in a rather loud voice. She looked startled that you regretted calling her in that tone. You just wanted to cry at the moment and the pain in your abdomen isn't even helping at all. A loud sizzle can be heard from the kitchen as a smell of burning food filled the house. Shit! The food. "I'll be right back, stay where you are." 

You turned around from her and hurriedly went to the kitchen to turn off the stove. You even burned yourself and even bumped on the counter because of panic when you heard a loud slam of the door followed by muffled cries. You had to groan as you put the pot under the running water. 

You're not feeling well. You ruined dinner. You ruined Shiho's favorite toy. And your daughter hates you and her brother now. Great, Y/N, just great!

You heard the door open, followed by your husband saying the words, 'I'm home.' You were just leaning by the kitchen sink, taking it all in. Calm down, Y/N. You're just sensitive because of your period. "What happened?" Yuta asked as he picked up the toys scattered on the floor. He was carrying Shin in his arms, lightly rocking him. 

"Can you please calm Shiho down first?" He lightly glanced at the closed door of your daughter's room, asking you what happened. You didn't answer him, instead took Shin in your arms then gestured to the door. 

A sigh escaped your lips as Yuta disappeared inside the room. He's the only one who can calm her down anyways. 

-----

The moment Yuta entered Shiho's room, he saw how her body was heaving up and down from her bed. She was crying, something did happen. "Shiho." He called softly, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Baby, what's wrong?" 

She immediately hugged him, crying on his shoulders. Although Shiho is already seven, he can still see the little girl in her when she cries in his arms. And he wished she could still be his little girl even if years passed. "Daddy, I'm scared." She does look scared. Yuta asked why and the answer surprised him, "I hurt mommy. I said mean words to her and when she turned around, her skirt was bleeding." 

Oh, Yuta thought, it's that time of the month again. "You said mean words to mommy?" 

Shiho sat on his lap, nodding while wiping her tears. "I told her I hate her and Shin." 

"Do you hate mommy and Shin?" Shiho shook her head. "Then why did you say those things?" 

"I'm angry." She said with a pout and Yuta listened attentively to her. "Mommy told me to share my rabbit with Shin but I don't want to. I always share everything with him, my toys, my food, Cinderella, you, and mommy. Pinky is the only one I have left." Yuta smiled, why is she so cute ranting like this? "Now, Pinky is broken and I just got angry." 

The older sighed. "We'll get Pinky fixed, hmm?" Shiho nodded. "About you sharing everything with Shin, I'll apologize on behalf of mommy, daddy, and Shin. We thought it was alright, you are the older sister." Yuta explained as she stared at him. "We thought since Shin is still a baby, you can share your toys with him. When he grows up, we can teach him how to share his stuff with you." 

"For now, we just want you to take care of Shin since he's still a baby. But you know, honey, when you both grow up Shin will be the one taking care of you." The girl just stared at him, still pouting and as if thinking deeply. Yuta smiled, she really does resemble you. “Mommy and I both love you equally, Shin just needed some more attention from mommy right now and I hope you understand that.”

“But daddy, I still hurt mommy.” She whined. “My teacher said that if you say something mean you’ll hurt the person inside. Maybe mommy is bleeding because of what I said. Do you think she’s hurt? Should we bring her to the doctors?” 

Yuta chuckled at that. He didn’t know that he’ll have this conversation when she’s just seven years old. More importantly, he always envisioned this as you explain these things to your daughter, not him. “Well, mommy gets sick once a month. Blood comes out of her and she’s a little sensitive. It’s a normal thing for girls.”

“What happens when they don’t bleed every month?” 

He hummed, thinking for a while. Is he right in explaining this? “They must be pregnant.” 

A gasp escaped Shiho’s lips. “Daddy…” she called worriedly. “I’m pregnant.” 

Yuta laughed at that. She’s so cute. “No, honey, it happens when you’re older. Right now, you don’t have it yet.” He explained while giggling. “When the time comes, mommy is going to help you and I’m going to lock you in our tower.” 

“Why?”

“So you’ll have to bleed every month.” Yuta grinned as if proud of what he said but Shiho just stared at him curiously. The older kissed the top of the younger’s head. “Should we check if mommy is alright?”   

The young girl shook her head. “I’m still scared. What if she’s still mad?” 

Yuta smiled. “I’ll talk to mommy first. Can you help me clean up your toys outside?” The younger nodded. “Thank you, baby.” Her eyes glistened at that making him smile wider. 

-----

You were stitching the ear of Shiho’s doll when Yuta came into your shared bedroom. He’s still in his work clothes and you feel bad that he had to deal with this drama the moment he came inside the house. “How are you feeling?” he asked so you stared at him curiously. “Your menstruation came early today.” He whispered while placing a kiss on the side of your head. He wrapped his arms around you, leaning his head on your shoulder as he back hugged you. “Shiho was so scared that you’re bleeding because of her.” 

Wait, you thought, Shiho saw? “How is she?” 

“She’s really your daughter, no doubt.” You had to glare at Yuta because of that but he chuckled. “Don’t worry, she already calmed down.” You nodded. No one can calm down Shiho but Yuta so you’re thankful that he came home at the right moment. 

“I’m sorry about dinner. Can we just order some food?” 

He smiled, nodding, as he hugged you tight. “I’m sorry.” What for? “This must be stressing you out. I’ll try to take more days off to help around the house.” He knew he doesn’t need to do that but you’re thankful. He nuzzled his head on your neck, making you smile. Yuta being this clingy is something that isn’t new to you. He was like this when he asked you to marry him and when he asked permission to have a child with him. “I love you. You are the best thing that happened to my life, Y/N. I can’t imagine having a life without you.”

“Do you need something?” 

Yuta giggled. “First, you’re on your period. Second, having two kids is tiring already. So no, love, I just want to cuddle my wife and tell her how much I love her.” You smiled. You do love it when Yuta is being like this. But all things must come to an end and that is when Shin cried. “I’ll take care of Shin.” He said then kissed your cheek, “Should I prepare a warm bath for you?” 

You shook your head, saying that you’ll take care of it. “I’ll order food and clean outside. Take some rest.” 

“Thank you, Yuta.”

He shook his head, smiling at you. “Thank you, Y/N.” 

-----

You had your bath, cleaned yourself up, and even prepared for bed. A knock on the door can be heard followed by your husband’s voice asking if he can enter and you nodded. He opened the door, your youngest child in his arms while the oldest shyly entered the room while holding a food tray. You helped her with the heavy object and she thanked you quietly. 

Yuta sat on the other edge of the bed, rocking Shin who was nibbling a breadstick. He gave Shiho a look before the younger girl spoke up, “I’m sorry for shouting at you mommy. I’m just angry. I’m sorry.” Tears were welling up in her eyes and it broke your heart seeing that. “I still love you and Shin very much.” 

“Come here.” You opened your arms as she went up to the bed and hugged you. “I’m sorry for shouting as well.” This is also your fault. She’s still young, not fully understanding things, yet you as an adult had to overreact. You should have explained everything to her calmly, not join her in her tantrums. Your daughter deserved better than you getting mad at the small things. “I’m sorry you had to cry.” 

“I won’t do it again, I promise.” She said in a soft voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You kissed the top of her head, holding her in your arms and caressing her hair. “I don’t want you hurt as well so if mommy or daddy did something wrong or upset you, you can be mad at us. You can shout, you can cry, you can be scared. It’s normal, baby.” 

“I missed you calling me baby.” She snuggled on your chest that startled you. Yuta laughed, watching the two of you. “You always call me noona. I thought you don’t love me anymore.” 

It's now your turn to laugh at that. "I want Shin to hear the word noona so he can call you that easily." You explained as she exclaimed in awe, even Yuta looked surprised at what you said. "How can I not love you when you're my favorite girl in the world?" She giggled when you peppered her cheeks with kisses. 

"Then who is your favorite boy in the world?" She asked innocently and you answered Mark's name in a teasing tone. "Mark samchon is also my favorite." 

"Come on Shin, we're not needed here," Yuta claimed which made you laugh. Shin had to cry, struggling to get out of his arms. "Even Shin doesn't want me." He pouted and it was Shiho who laughed, giving her dad a breadstick. 

"Nana." The three of you stopped then looked at the source of the sound. Shin repeated the word 'nana' while tapping Shiho's leg, asking for breadsticks. Yuta was quick on his feet, getting the polaroid camera. 

"Did you hear that, mommy? Shin called me noona." You had to giggle at her excitement. That was the same feeling you had when they first said the word 'mama'. You heard the shutter of the camera, followed by a whirring of the photo paper. "I'll share my toys with you from now on, Shin." She whispered. 

Speaking of toys, you stood up from the bed to get the pink rabbit from the drawer. You already sewed the ears of her plushie but the two were just looking at you in worry. "Mommy, does it still hurt?" She asked as you lightly glanced at your husband who mouthed ‘blood’ at you. 

What? You already cleaned up. Why is your period like this? “Maybe you should get pregnant,” Shiho suggested that made you wide-eyed. Pregnant? Yuta shrugged, lying on the bed. “Daddy said it can stop you from bleeding.” Your husband laughed at that. 

“Honey, being pregnant means having a baby in mommy’s tummy. Shin is still young, we can’t have another baby yet.” Yuta repeated the word yet that made you glare at him. “I’m fine, baby, don’t worry about me.” 

Shiho nodded, smiling at the two of you then at Shin. She handed him a breadstick and he giggled, repeating the words ‘nana’ that made you smile. Yuta pulled you in his lap but you revolted. You’re bleeding. You might stain his jeans. “It’s just blood, no worries.” He whispered. “You were bleeding more when I took your virginity.” You had to lightly elbow his stomach. 

Shiho was busy giving Shin some breadsticks as the younger babbled incoherent words. Yuta was feeding you and your daughter with sushi alternately when you heard her asked all of a sudden, “Then mommy, how can babies get inside mommies’ tummies?” 

You had to glance at Yuta who laughed at the innocent question. God, she’s really growing up.