#but once he senses you hovering around shinichi

[fordoggo]

"Kudo is stupid. That idiot's quick to tell ya about the whole wiki and he can't even tell if his own girlfriend is into him." He talked animatedly, giving a labored sigh.

Kazuha hummed before grabbing a napkin from her side this time and wiping the edges of Heiji's lips, removing the remains of food before placing it to the side. It was an unconscious behavior.

Heiji leaned but he was too preoccupied with ranting.

"Ran-chan too. She's too sweet but sometimes I wish she would smack her boyfriend in the face! That ought to teach him a lesson, not to lie to her again!" Kazuha made a motion of punching.

Heiji chuckled along.

"I would pay to see that."

Since they were finished eating, they had stood up and before the girl could fetch out her wallet. Heiji was already in front of her and paying. It made her flush and her heart was beating much faster.

He then looked over his shoulder.

"Let's go, they're probably in a mess right now huh?"

Out of instinct, he grabbed hold of her hand and dragged her outside. In any other day, Kazuha wouldn't find it odd but she was starting to realize something.

When has....Heiji done this?

She'd remember him doing this on a few occasions but nowadays, it felt normal. He was holding her hand as if it was no big deal. He was holding her hand as if it was normal. He was holding her hand as if they had done this before- which they had but this time, it felt different. He was intertwining their fingers even when there was no danger.

He was holding her hand out of his own will.

Kazuha caught heat on her face and her words seemed to clog on her throat. Her stomach was emitting butterflies and she couldn't stop a smile from forming.

Then she felt a sounding vibration from her purse, she frowned, letting go of their hands so she could answer her cellphone.

"It's Ran-chan" She announces.

Heiji went to her side, leaning his chin to her shoulder. Hovering but not touching and nervousness settled in her.

"Why don't ya answer it?" His voice brought her back to her senses.

"Maido? Ran-chan?" Kazuha pressed the speaker button then.

"Ah Kazuha-chan! Gomen, I called but a murder has happened outside the Agency" Ran stated and there was shuffling from her background.

"Oi Ran-"

"And I don't think Shinichi can solve it. Can you call your boyfriend?" Ran seemed to be busy and from the sounds being made on the other line. She seemed to be keeping the phone away from someone. Mostly likely from Shinichi.

Kazuha however, brightened. She looked over to her left, hoping that Heiji wouldn't catch on.

He didn't. Instead, he had a confused face before he suddenly looked ticked off.

"I can solve-"

Shinichi's voice was getting louder and they heard a door bang. Ran then spoke, ever-so-sweet.

"You'll be here in a few minutes? Great! See you then. Thank you Kazuha-chan!" Ran ended the call and beeping emitted from Osakan's gadget.

Kazuha chuckled nervously.

"I guess we should...get going?"

She sounded meek and nervous. The blush on her face wouldn't stop and she grimaced when she saw how her best friend's face looked a bit mad.

Ran-chan called Heiji my boyfriend.....!

She was about to turn around, his motorcycle was just behind and a few more steps was all it took.

He grabbed her arm though and she had to doubletake the glare that he sent her. His eyebrow was twitching in annoyance and his mouth was in straight line. His dark blue eyes seemed to be lost in thought and it was a mix between confusion and agitation.

"Kazuha" He said slowly. "When did you get a boyfriend?"

What?

She stared at him for a second. His words not registering and then she blinked. Her still-flush face now morphing into realization.

He's a real damn ahou

"A-ahou! I don't have a boyfriend"

He rose one eyebrow, still holding her arm.

"Nee-chan said to bring your damn boyfriend, didn't she? She ought to be lyin' then?"

His tone went dangerously low and Kazuha flushed once again in scarlet.

And when he was starting to doubt Ran's words. She shook her head, she couldn't let him be angry at her friend.

"Ahou! She meant you!"

"H-ha?"

If she wasn't blushing as red as a tomato, she would have laughed at his baffled expression. From his surprise, he let her go.

He was still dumbfounded. Kazuha was about to say something that would hopefully make this conversation less awkward but he was opening his mouth.

"Boyfriend?" He muttered. "But I haven't confessed to ya yet!"

Heiji tilted his head in pure confusion, not looking at her, but at the ground with his hand grabbing his chin.

Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open.

A second later, he seemed to realize what he has said and he froze. He paled, visibly. He grimaced and then looked up to meet her reaction.

She still looked shocked. He felt horrified and he just stopped breathing. A few seconds passed by and the tension was thick and the silence was loud. Seeing that she was not going to respond or rather- she could not respond at all.

He gulped.

Then he flushed.

Grinning sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck, looking at her shyly.

"I like ya Kazuha...?"

"Oh my god. Tell me that didn't happen!" The young lad looked ready to pass out from his fits of laughter. He slapped a hand to the table.

The Osakan detective wouldn't meet his gaze. The great red covering his face and he hid his expression with both of his hands.

"It did happen!" Shinichi seemed like he wouldn't stop laughing anytime soon.

"Ya ya! Laugh it out, would ya?"

Heiji sunk in embarassment in his seat.

"Hattori. That was the literally worst place to confess!" Shinichi once again reminded what the latter had already replayed for the last few hours.

"I mean- outside? Near the trash? In the parking lot?" He exclaimed, trying not to combust with laughter.

"I know Kudo! I know!" Heiji scowled but his face was getting redder by every second.

The people in the restaurant glanced at them in concern. A few waiters had dropped by, asking if the Osakan boy was okay, seeing as he was redder than anything that they had seen before. After that even more embarassing ecounter to which Kudo could not stop grinning.

"And I solved the case which Ran said I could not-" Kudo said pointedly. "You gotta thank me for solving the murder otherwise your confession would have been filled with even more horrible-ness. Which should be a word, a perfect word to describe your whole fiasco...!"

Heiji's eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

"Atleast I didn't get ignored unlike you and Nee-chan eh? And unlike ya, I got my answer right away!" Heiji retorted.

It was damn satisfying watching Kudo spit out his drink.

Heiji smirked when the other glared at him, his cheeks flushing in embarassment and frustration.

"Don't get me started on her silent treatment" Shinichi coughed out. "She nearly made me announce my feelings to the whole nation!"

Heiji laughed evilly. Oh it was good. They both had their fair share of love troubles.

"Shinichi...." A warning tone came from behind.

The said boy froze, turning around, he met his girlfriend's awaiting stare. He squeaked.

Heiji watched the two but he felt a presence beside him. The culprit wrapped herself around him, clinging unto his arm and her chin resting comfortably on his shoulder.

She sighed in content.

Heiji felt a full blown flush now. Whatever redness he had experienced ago, had come back and it was vibrant than ever.

Kazuha smiled up at him.

"Now this is my boyfriend" 

For more dcmk oneshots

[gisachi]

hmmm i'd like to see how desperate they can be. Kiss prompts #14 for shinran, maybee? thankyou 🤟

Thank you for the request! Wanted to do a trope and this is how it turned out. Hope this is an enjoyable read. 💖

14. A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished. (2,374 words)

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In her seventeen years of existence, Mouri Ran has never met a person as infuriating as Kudou Shinichi.

She isn’t a particularly spiteful person. In fact, she’s always so welcoming and positive. Her well-earned reputation in school as the top of her class and her father and mother being one of the best detectives and lawyers in town do not in any way inflate her ego and turn her into an arrogant prick. If any, others spite her, never the other way around. (Though no one - ever - has brought it upon themselves to hate on the ray of sunshine that is Mouri Ran.)

As nice as she may be however, Kudou Shinichi always seems to get on her nerves.

Perhaps the only thing he inherited from the world-famous but humble Kudou Yuusaku and Fujimine Yukiko are their physical attributes. Sharp jawline, charming eyes, straight nose, pearly teeth, prominent Adam’s apple, broad shoulders, lean body…in short, fine. Good-looking. Hot maybe, yes. But she cannot let just that overshadow his absolute cockiness.

For instance, Ran is grateful for people who correct her mistakes, however seldom they may happen, but everytime Shinichi does it - in front of the class, brandishing a proud smirk at the end of it all - she feels the veins on her temple pop. She never cared at first, but when done habitually (and consciously?) by the same person, an underlying urge to punch him straight on the face arises. She knows she is nice but her patience isn’t eternal.

The rational half of her tells her to ignore him, but the petty half of her screams at her to give him a taste of his own medicine. So she revels inwardly at the hooded stare he gives her back whenever she contradicts a portion of his answer in Japanese History class, and restrains her satisfied grin when she corrects his negative integers into positives on the board during Math.

The class takes the toll in this twisted brain battle, because one-on-one debates between the top two students lead to extended fourth period and lesser lunch time. On the bright side, the lazy and unprepared don’t get to recite, so they let the two be.

Their academic tension spills even to athletics. Admittedly, he’s great at soccer, no surprise for an Ace. Her attempts at scoring a goal every time he gate keeps always end in failures, but what irks her more are the deafening screams of his fangirls behind the rails and his annoying wave like he’s some celebrity, beaming proudly like she hasn’t given him a hard time. (She hasn’t.)

But if he has soccer then she has karate. His powerful leg muscles are no match for her deadly roundhouse kicks. Shinichi has begged for his life once - when she has him pinned down between her legs on the floor in front of their classmates for a test of strength. Then he hasn’t brought that up ever again. That’s her win, not that she’s counting. (But really, that’s her win.)

He breathes, she’s annoyed.

When their gaze meets in the hallway, she is tempted to hold it and see if he’ll turn away first.

When he utters her name (“Mouri-san”, husky and sonorous), she wants to utter his back with twice the spite and snark. One that can bite. Tingle. Keep him up at night.

“Sometimes I wonder if you want to kill each other or kiss each other,” her best friend Sonoko brings up during lunch, and that’s just about enough to turn Ran’s mood into sour.

“I do not want to kiss him!” she reacts in a guilty way, and coincidentally they hear a resounding “I do not want to kiss her, barou!” along the corridor, only for Makoto and a grimacing Shinichi to appear on the door frame the next second, and their eyes meet, only to look away immediately.

“Maybe it’s you and Kyougoku-san who want to kiss each other,” Ran says bitterly, attempting to get back at her friend upon seeing her and Makoto exchange knowing glances.

“Mm, yeah maybe we do.” Sonoko grabs a bite of tamago sushi from her bento. Ran rolls her eyes.

“What? At least I’m being honest,” she chides, but Ran is already too engrossed glaring (rather salaciously, in Sonoko’s opinion) back at Shinichi to hear her or even notice her being an audience to their subtle eye makeout.

What do the other girls see in him? He’s a conceited, competitive brat who likes to pit with her for the fun of it. Sonoko says he’s not as annoying as she makes him out to be, which is about the only time she doubts herself because Sonoko does get annoyed easily. But Ran sees Shinichi in the hallway and she recalls the shameless bites and banters and sparring bruises and classroom debates and yep, her blood boils for this lad.

On Valentine’s Day, Ran makes chocolate.

More like, she helps her mother make one for her dad. For everyone’s sake and their stove’s. Since there are excess ingredients, why not? She doesn’t know for whom and why though, she just makes it.

(“Oh, you have a boy in mind?” “None, kaa-san.” “Let me guess, Yukiko-san’s son?” “NO!”)

She’s greeted by girls pooling outside the classroom. Sneaking a peek at the tag of a daintily wrapped box one of the underclassmen holds, she isn’t surprised to read Kudou Shinichi’s name on it. The subject appears behind her, and the girls line up and squeal in glee, and he greets them all while she huffs, not sparing a second look at the commotion as she makes a beeline for her seat.

She doesn’t understand why he always ends up alone with her after class when they both know that’s not the best idea. Their homeroom teacher just cannot read the atmosphere, because this is the third time he’s designated the two as class reps for student affairs work. This time, it’s a campus tour for visiting students. She hates it because she and Shinichi can never agree on anything.

“I’ll sketch the route, you do the tour,” she says.

“No, you do the hosting, I do the planning,” he counters.

“Aren’t you better at talking?” Ran sneers, remembering the chaos of fangirls and all annoying flowery words he’s probably said back. “Or don’t tell me it’s just the confidence and charm overcompensating for the lack of substance?”

“I can plan and I can host well, but I do the planning now ‘cause I did the talking in our presentation last time while you rested at the back and let me do the bulk of the task but thanks,” he rises from his seat and leans his body on the desk next to her, “for thinking that I’m charming.”

“I didn’t— I wasn’t—!” Ran’s cheeks heat up in fury or embarrassment or both. “I’m just saying this task is the best time to utilize your charisma!”

“But aren’t you charismatic yourself, Mouri-san? As expected from the daughter of a lawyer mother and a detective father?”

“No- I mean, yes, whatever, but we need charm and-”

“And I have it? What do I say? Is this your roundabout way of making me admit that you’re charming too?”

“I wouldn’t do anything like that, baka!”

He holds her challenging gaze, long and hard.

“In any case, I refuse. I plan the routes.”

“No, I plan the routes, you do the talk. No ifs. No buts.”

“This is just a simple assignment, Mouri-san! Why can’t we agree for once?” he snaps, stepping forward.

“Exactly! This is just a simple task, Kudou-kun! Why do you have to be so overbearing?” She steps forward.

“I am not overbearing. You are!”

“No, you are! You’re the hardest to deal with! I can’t even stand being near you! You’re the absolute worst! You’re—”

And then he’s hovering over her, sealing her lips shut with his own.

It happens lightning fast. He's in a respectful distance one second and then he’s hogged all her space and claimed her lips the next. Her heart rate has already gone up at the start of the bicker but now it’s literally flown off the charts.

“Kudou-kun—!” Ran gasps when her back hits the wall of the classroom, disconnecting their lips for a second. “I’m... not done...speaking—”

“And we’re not done kissing,” Shinichi angles his head for another searing kiss and that is enough to turn Ran into a puddle of melted flesh in his arms. Doomed they will be if students outside the window look up their floor and catch her back pressed suspiciously against the glass with his body the only thing keeping her upright. She can only pray they won’t. Because she doesn’t push him away.

Maybe she doesn’t care so much about being seen? Or maybe she doesn’t have the mind to think of anything else when his scent and his taste and his touch take over her senses and it still isn’t enough. This she realizes as her hands cup his warm cheeks to deepen the pressure of their connected lips, both red and swollen from the fiery mutual exchange. She kisses him with no intention of stopping. She kisses him like she’s making up for the moments her subconscious wanted to but didn’t. The tightening arms around her waist and desperate push of tongue in her are all she needs to understand that Shinichi must be thinking the same thing.

(“Mouri-san,” he sighs in her mouth. “Mm, Kudou-kun,” comes her lush reply.)

Only when she feels herself blacking out from lack of oxygen - or the fact that she feels hands untucking the hem of her school uniform from her skirt - does she unconsciously push his chest away, giving them an inch of space.

Stunned and breathless, they separate with the thought that what they share may have been too much for a first kiss. Achievers always aim for too much; anything less and they die. Too much is always too good.

For a first kiss, theirs is pretty characteristic.

“Huh.” She utters low. Any sound will do to kill the awkward silence that has stretched on for too long.

“Well.” He speaks, a little strained, but coughs his throat clear and gets himself together. “If you may...continue with what you’re saying, Mouri-san.”

For someone who’d just kissed her heatedly in an empty classroom in the middle of an argument and was so close to successfully getting his hands under her shirt, Ran is pretty impressed at how he manages to remain courteous in addressing her.

“Y-You’re the absolute worst,” arms still wrapped around his neck, she begins, but doesn’t remember what she’s supposed to say next. All coherent thought has flown out the window when his lips meet hers five minutes ago. She has no choice but to rely on the power of impromptu speech. Like Shinichi said, she’s good at that, kind of. He can probably hear her pulse palpitating on her wrist as she speaks.

“You’re...You’re such an airhead and you think so highly of yourself just because you have so many fangirls. Kuroba-kun or Hattori-kun from the other class are better and much more handsome than you, would you believe? You’re not the only charming guy in this school, Kudou-kun! And you don’t have to correct my flimsy academic mistakes in front of the class for a moment of schadenfreude, damn it! You annoy me to no end! I was this close to giving you my chocolate but good thing I didn’t because you know what? You’re annoying. Truly. You’re so full of yourself and I don’t like you for that and, y-you’re annoying and...and gods I hate you so much I’ll kiss you to death—”

She’s ready to tiptoe but his hands on her waist hold her still.

“What?!” she snaps, not sure where she’s more pissed at, the guy she’s about to kiss or the guy she’s about to kiss stopping her from kissing him again.

(A third option is herself but she’s already established her seething self-loathe when she chose to kiss him back.)

“I-I should be asking that, Mouri-san, what?” he stammers over her lips. “I... Give me your chocolate.”

Ran blinks, partly confused, partly surprised. She tries to comprehend how that is a proper response to whatever she just said (which by now, she’s already forgotten - or at least, in the process of forgetting).

“Give me your chocolate and I’ll eat it even though the chocolates I make with mom surely taste better but I’ll take what you made for me anyway. Don’t even get me started about how much I think it’s funny that you’re thinking about me as you make your chocolate, I mean, wow, there’s always that possibility, but still, wow. I-” he catches his breath, continues, “I’ll give you a better one on White Day. So please give me your chocolate.”

She doesn’t know what to make of the string of words that spew right out his mouth, but she can feel her face tightening to a grimace. Surely now, she knows she’s better at impromptu speech than him.

“You really expect me to give you my chocolate after you insult me? Wow, you really are an ass!” she shouts, as if she hasn’t mocked him the same.

“An ass who’s rejected every single chocolate given him except for one,” he says. His gaze locks her eyes, then her lips, then her eyes again. “And he’s even begging for that one chocolate, how ridiculous is that.”

Ran holds her breath, feels her face burn from his blazing irises.

“You don’t say-”

“I do say.”

His lips twist mischievously, too handsome for her heart to take.

“And you did say something else a while ago. Something equally interesting.” He cranes his head lower. “You said you hate me to death?”

Ran feels her toes tipping to balance.

“...Yes,” she lets go of his nape, hands sliding down to the plane of his chest and crumpling his shirt in her fists. “I hate you so, so much.”

“Oh by all means,” he leans in to swoop her lower lip gently between his teeth, smirks as he pulls it for a soft tug, “hate me all you want.”

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[therainroguefanfiction]

❉ 139 Dreams (Shinichi Okazaki) Off Guard

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Romance ☁

Word Count: 2,000 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Shinichi ☁

World: NANA ☁

��� ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You frowned at the beer in your hand, hanging your head. You didn’t understand what was wrong with you lately. When you were writing your first book, the words flowed like water from a faucet, and ideas had been popping into your head left and right. You finished writing that book within only four months and, six months after that, the book was published with a well-known company.

When you had gotten the news that your book was on the best-sellers list, you felt absolutely ecstatic. Calls started pouring in, congratulating you on your debut success and your publisher began to push you for book number two, despite the fact that you had no plans of turning it into a series.

At the time, you felt energized and excited, immediately agreeing to the demand, but when you finally got around to sitting down to start writing said book, your mind went as blank as the page. How many times had you set the pen to the paper only to lift it back up again before a single line was written? What happened to that overflow of ideas you once had? Did they just disappear into smoke?

‘Am I just going to be a one-hit-wonder? Is this really where my dream ends?’ You found yourself wondering as your hand clenched the bottle tighter.

Your two close friends had long since stopped chatting, exchanging worried looks as they watched you. Koko reached out, setting her hand atop your own, which snapped you from your thoughts. You sent her a confused look. Was she trying to confess or something?

“Are you okay?” she inquired softly.

You forced a bright smile, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, I’m fine!”

“You were zoning out again,” Lee commended, resting his chin in his hand.

“Was I?” You sheepishly rubbed the back of your head. “Sorry, it’s been a long day. Writer’s stuff, you know.”

Koko hummed, reaching into her purse for a pen. She scribbled a number onto the napkin under her glass before sliding it over to you. You looked at it curiously, raising a brow – it wasn’t a number you recognized.

She giggled, her cheeks turning pink. “Call him. He has a way of knowing just what a person needs! Trust me, Y/N, Shinichi will blow your mind.”

You frowned down at the napkin, running your thumb over the dried ink. ‘Maybe I do need to get laid to clear my mind… Maybe if the experience is as good as she claims, it’ll even inspire something within me for the next book,’

After spending thirty more minutes together, the three of you exited the bar and went your separate ways. As you walked down the street, folding and unfolding the napkin, you decided to just bite the bullet. What did you have to lose? You pulled out your phone and dialed the number, heart racing as it started to ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi!” You answered a bit awkwardly. “Is this Shinichi?”

“This is him,”

“My friend gave me your number,” you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to think of the right words.

He chuckled and you faintly heard the flick of a lighter. “Would you like to make an appointment? I’m free tonight and will meet you wherever is convenient.”

“Oh, um, yeah! That’ll work. There’s a motel on Honjo street… do you know it?”

“Yeah, I’m not far from there. I’ll meet you there in twenty.”

“Sure,” The phone went dead and you ended the call, turning around to head in the direction of the motel. Night had long since fallen and the parking lot was nearly empty as you approached the glass door of the office where you found a middle-aged woman sitting behind the desk, drinking from something within a brown paper bag before coughing violently as the liquid went down the wrong pipe.

You forced a smile, pretending like you hadn’t seen the scene. “I’d like a room for two days, please.”

She hiccuped, turning toward the computer – an ancient fossil of a thing that you were surprised even worked. You had to repeat your information several times before she finally got it entered correctly. After confirming the payment, she handed you the key for room 204 and you stepped out into the chilly night. Movement from the left made you glance over, seeing a male stepping out of a taxi. He was thin with spiky, powder blue hair. Multiple piercings glinted under the light of the streetlamp, covering his ears and even one connected to his lip.

The man turned around after paying his fare and smiled, approaching you without hesitation. He was definitely cute but… something about him felt off and you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Hi,” you said softly, playing with the key in your hand to calm your nerves. “Shinichi, right? I got us a room.”

He smirked, “You work fast~” And then his hand slid into your own, his fingers calloused and rough. “Lead the way,”

With a nod, you started toward the row of rooms, glancing at him every few seconds. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but I’m not sure how this works.” You slid the key into the lock and entered the room, letting the door shut behind the two of you. “I’ve never done this before…”

Shinichi smiled gently as he sat on the side of the bed, hands behind him to support his weight. “Don’t worry, we can take it as slow as you need. First, tell me your name.”

You took a seat across from him on the other bed. “My name is Y/N,”

“Y/N,” he tested the way your name tasted on his tongue. “A gorgeous name for a gorgeous person.”

You giggled. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you.”

“It’s my job to be. Now, what is it you’re looking for, Y/N?”

Your lips parted to answer, but nothing escaped and your shoulders slumped as you frowned. ‘What do I want?’

Sensing your hesitation, Shinichi stood up and gently pushed you back onto the bed, his body hovering over your own as his knee settled between your legs and his lips pressed into the skin beneath your ear. His voice was husky as he spoke, warm breath tickling your skin. “Don’t overthink it. Tell me what’s bothering you, what made you give me a call.”

Your hands gripped at his slim waist, fingers sliding through the loops on his jeans. You’re not sure exactly what came over you, but you didn’t hesitate to spill your guts to this man, telling him every little detail from the moment you started writing to the current pressures from your publisher. Sometime during the story, he had shifted so he straddled your waist, looking down at you with wonder shining in his blue eyes.

“You’re really a best-selling author?” He grinned. “That’s so cool,”

“Yeah… cool.” You smiled back, but it was forced. “It’s looking like it’s just gonna be the one, though.”

“Hmm, I’ve always heard that it’s easiest to write about what you know or what you’ve personally experienced.”

“I’ve heard that before,” you admitted. “But my life hasn’t exactly been exciting or interesting.”

“Even so, you just got to start writing.” Shinichi stood up, pulling you with him before searching the small table between the two beds. He found a small pad of paper and a ballpoint pen and handed them over to you. “Don’t overthink it, just write whatever comes to mind.” He gave you an encouraging smile, tugging you toward the table.

You had very little hope that it would work, but his expression was just so damn cute you couldn’t deny him. Taking a deep breath to clear your mind, you sat down across from him and set the pen to the page.

And you started to write.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You burst through your apartment door, startling Shinichi who was sat on the floor with his guitar in his lap. “Shin! Guess what!”

He hummed, setting the guitar on the floor beside him as he crossed his legs. “Did you finally get a promotion at work?”

“Even better!” You cried, throwing yourself to the ground across from him. The excitement was so high that you couldn’t even sit still.

Shinichi frowned, leaning back against the couch. “Did you get a boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes, smacking his knee. “No, you dork. My publisher approved the new book!”

“That’s great!” He smiled brightly, launching himself at you. You squeaked in surprise as the force sent you tumbling backward, his arms tight around your waist as he snuggled his face against your chest. “I knew you could do it, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”

You brought your hand up, fingers lacing through his hair, slightly stiff from the amount of gel he used to make it so spikey. “It’s all because of you, Shin.”

And it was. Since that first fateful meeting two years ago, you had met with him twice a week, soon going to three times a week before finally asking him over to your apartment where he spent several nights at a time. Each meeting, he would encourage you to write whatever came to your mind while he sat and observed you. You grew close to him pretty quickly and, soon, you completed the first draft for your next book.

Together, the two of you read through the draft, making corrections or changes as you saw fit. This book was just as much his as it was yours, and you made sure to tell him so.

“I helped with the ideas, sure, but you’re the one that put in the real work.” He responded, a smile lighting up his face.

“Move in with me,” you told him suddenly, feeling your heart quicken as you realized what you just said. ‘Shit, I said the first thing that popped into my head!’ You knew Shinichi was a prostitute and that he hadn’t stopped seeing his other clients since meeting you. You never figured he would, to be honest, but… you had let yourself get too attached to him and now it hurt knowing he went to see other people, sleeping with them and spending time with them.

He was a young, attractive man, so naturally he would rather be with the clients that actually slept with him rather than picking his brain for ideas for a book. The farthest you had gone with him was a kiss on the cheek.

Silence fell over the apartment and you closed your eyes, wishing you could just disappear. ‘Y/N, you idiot. God, why did I say that?’

Shinichi pushed himself away from you after the words had left your lips. The minutes ticked by in absolute silence, seeming to stretch on forever as you prayed that the ground would just swallow you up whole.

He took an intake of breath, slowly releasing it. “Okay,”

Now that caught you off guard. Your eyes snapped open, locking with his own. Had you misheard him?

With a soft smile, he leaned forward until his forehead was resting against yours. “I would love to live with you, Y/N.” And then his lips found yours and you knew he had developed feelings for you, too.

You nipped at his lip before flipping him over so that you were hovering above him. “You joked about me finding a boyfriend. How could I when you’re the only one I want, Shinichi?” You hoped your feelings could reach him, eyes shining with love. “You don’t have to sell yourself anymore! You can have my money, live in my apartment, eat my food. You never have to worry about making money anym -”

He cut off your words when he grabbed the back of your neck, slamming his lips against yours to silence you. It was obvious he didn’t know how to convey his feelings through words like you could, so he used his body to do the talking for him. And to you, his desires were clear as day.

‘I’m yours now,’

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

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[darkspace7]

What Lay Within

"Ten years have passed since Shinichi's first encounter with the Black Organization and since then life has moved on. Despite this fact it seems that the man still hasn't gotten any better at taking care of himself properly. Its a good thing that his apprentice is rather apt at playing the role of a mother hen then isn't it?" [Part 1 of the "Elpis" series]

Words: 4,400+

Rating: T

A/N: A story in which Shinichi really needs to stop being an idiot and take better care of himself, Mitsuhiko is a worried mother hen and quite possibly as stubborn as Shinichi, and where the curiosity of teenage detectives is quite the damnable little thing.

Disclaimer: This writing piece is a work of fanfiction and thus not intended for profit in any sense of the word. It is merely a fan creation meaning I do not own Detective Conan or its characters and as such all rights are reserved by Gosho Aoyama and the appropriate such parties.

“And what lay within the container were all the ills of the world which, upon being opened, surged forth to wreak havoc upon humanity. All of them save for one. A minuscule speck of light left behind in the dark depths of the box. And what did they call this little light shining like a beacon in the darkness? Hope.”

“Um...Sensei?”

Bzzzt

“Kudo-sensei?”

Bzzzzzzzt

“Hello? Sensei? It's me do you think you could open the gate?...Please?”

He sighed, letting his finger fall from the buzzer. The lack of response was not unexpected but still disheartening all the same. 'Maybe he really isn't here...Still, I should probably check. Just to make sure.'

Hands slid the nameplate to the side to reveal the keypad underneath. A set of numbers was tapped in with practised ease, and the loud clank of a mechanism provided that had indeed been the correct sequence. Carefully the plate was slid back and he moved to intercept the unlocked gate. Paying no mind to the groan of the metal as it swung on reluctant hinges the visitor pressed forward up the path to the entry. However, upon reaching the stone steps he came to a stop.

A contemplative gaze scrolled across them for a moment before coming to settle on a particular area. He knelt down, fingers tracing along the stonework until they came upon a barely perceptible irregularity. There the digits hovered poised for a second, then proceeded to be pressed down into the spot. A concealed latch swung away to reveal a compact compartment that lay flush with the stone and within this secret hideaway was a keyring utterly overflowing with what appeared -to the causal observer- to be several sets of identical keys. Palming the ring, he stood and made his way over to the door. He flipped through the keys, singling out a solitary piece of metal from its siblings and slid it into the lock. Hand on the door, he stopped.

'Just take a quick look around then come right back out. Quit worrying so much Tsuburaya. It'll be fine.' With a shake of his head, he twisted the handle and peered into the darkened maw that lie before him.

'Or...so I hope...'

The young man slid over to the security panel where it stood upon the wall and quickly jabbed in the 4-digit passcode; the light embedded into the casing flashed ominously for a half-second then it shifted to a benign shade of green. Finished, he cast a cursory glance over the darkened foyer, having let his gaze run along a bit before finally coming to rest upon the shoe cupboard that sat off to the side. He frowned at what he saw residing within.

'His shoes are still there and they don't seem to have been moved recently. So it seems that he is indeed in. Although, if that is the case then why didn't he come and answer the door? Maybe...he was just too caught up in something and unable to do so? Or perhaps he just didn't hear?' The explanation sounded weak even to himself but still... “Hello, Kudo-sensei?” He called out tentatively, “It's me Tsuburaya Mitsuhiko. Seeing as you weren't answering I took the liberty of letting myself in. I hope you don't mind...”

He listened as the words were met only with silence he tried to stave off the strange sense of unease that arose with it. Wordlessly, his trainers were exchanged for a set of house-scuffs and carefully tucked away beside the set of shoes that had already lay nestled within and then the teen set off in search for the wayward man.

He set about methodically checking the house, feet padding noiselessly against the floor as he traversed room after room. Through his search small but definite signs of life became apparent; a coffee pot with a dark ring of brew staining the bottom and a handful of dishes in the sink that desperately needed to be washed in the kitchen, some books tossed about that had to be reshelved in the library, and a few other items of the like. Though it wasn't until he reached the study that he made any significant headway.

A swath of light pierced the shadows from where it filtered through the a crack in the framework. With hand on the knob, he silently braced himself and slowly pushed the door open and peeked inside.

'Oh my god...'

A strangled noise escaped him and he felt himself immobilized for a beat...then two...before his mind elected to kicked back into gear.

The study was, in no short terms, trashed. A number of books and papers had taken it upon themselves to haphazardly sprawl over every single bit of available space, of which seemed to include: the surface of the desk, the decently-sized couch off to the side, and even the very floor of the room itself. In fact, the only area that appeared not to have been affected by the overflow was a tiny spot in the centre of the room in which rested a chair, legs akimbo from having toppled over messily onto its side. And as things would have it, not more than hair's breath away lay its former occupant: face-down and unmoving.

“Kudo-san!”

Need for subtlety discarded, the door was immediately thrown back to allow access. He quickly crossed the study, taking care to dodge the hazards scattered about to be at the man's side. ('When coming across a crime scene do your best to try not to disturb what's already there. You don't want to accidentally contaminate the evidence present, understood?' A voice that sounded eerily like the prone form before him reminded. But why on earth would he even think to need such a thing because this was most certainly not a case and his teacher couldn't possibly be-) He shut down that train of thought immediately and willed himself to take a few unsteady breaths.

“Shit...” He swore, devoting his full attention to the fallen figure.

The teen lifted his hand with a practised motion and gently pressed it to the other's throat, steadfastly ignoring the slight tremble of the digits as he checked for a pulse. '...Ah there!' Mitsuhiko felt a rush of air leave him in relief. Faint and unsteady but unmistakably there was a heartbeat. He mentally thanked whatever entities that had opted listen that what he had knelt by was, in fact, not his teacher's corpse, but instead a warm-blooded, breathing, and most certainly live human being. That relief however was quick to flee once he took note of his condition.

'He's unconscious. Skin's flushed and very hot to the touch. Breathing is somewhat strained yet remains at a steady pace. So not maybe not dead, yes, but definitely ill.'

“Kudo-san, now this is probably going sound rather unpleasant in your current state but I'm going need you to wake up just for a little bit okay? Do you think you could do that?” He gave the man's shoulder a firm shake. And then another.  “Hey, the floor is absolutely no place to be taking a nap right now so get up. Sensei!” But it was no use. Mitsuhiko groaned softly,  'Its no good. He's really out.' The teen shot a baleful look at the limp form before he turned away, thoughts turning once again to the study he which he and the other now stood.

The level of mess present was rather strange for the usually tidy detective. While normally, a touch of clutter could be dismissed as a possible by-product brought about by his stricken state, the sheer amount that had seemingly managed to accumulate was simply not something that he found could be easily explained away by a just a day or two of muzzy-mindedness. This, coupled with the days-old signs of life he had observed on the earlier walkthrough of the house had lent weight to the possibility that this mess might have something to do with his extended absence as well as apparent illness.

'So...what? He just decided go and seclude himself with virtually no contact to the outside world all so that he might work nonstop up until he reached the very point of exhaustion?' Mitsuhiko stared at the man for a moment. 'Actually, yeah that sounds like something he would do.'

'Still...to cause such a mess in such short period of time! Okay so my last visit might have been a week or two ago and but I know for a fact that there was no such mess in here or any other part of the house for that matter. Well...that I could see anyway.'

He sighed. “Well whatever the case let's see if we can get you somewhere a bit more comfortable than the floor. Your room perhaps?” Carefully, he slid the slumbering form up off the floor and into his arms with a surprising amount of ease. 'Huh?...I know I might not be the strongest male out there but...should he have really been that easy to lift?' A shake of the head to rid himself of the thought, he stood then proceeded to pick his way back out of the study with the elder detective in tow.

Once having delivered the older man carefully to the soft confines of his bed Mitsuhiko went on the hunt for a scrap of cloth and small basin. Upon successful location, he'd set to work dampening the material in the now-filled container and tentatively let it come to rest on the man's too-warm forehead. He drew back, retreating to desk chair he had stationed himself for the time being. The rhythmic tap-tap of fingers against the fabric of his pants leg had done little to alleviate the percolated anxiousness that slowly dripped through as he sat in silent vigil.

It was quite some time later (perhaps an hour or two if the barely perceptible shift in shadows through the farside windows were any indication) before he found his attention being dragged away from his internal musings by the slight motion of the man in the bed.

He watched as Shinichi shifted a touch as the stirrings of consciousness pulled him from fevery depths. The slight furrowing of dark brows as it became apparent that these were indeed soft sheets that he was residing beneath and not the rock hard floor of his study, a confusion which apparently seemed only to deepen as he registered the presence of something pleasantly cool and damp on his forehead, leaching away minute portions of that pervasive heat. Hazy blue eyes opened just a sliver to stare up into the darkness of the bedroom and small noise slipped past the man's lips. That was all the incentive needed for the teenaged detective to be up at his bedside in an instant.

“You finally awake?” The teen's voice caused him to jolt slightly shift his head towards the direction of the sound. “Hey there.” Lips quirked up into a soft smile. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“Mitsuhiko? Wha-”

“Hold on to that thought for just a second, I need to check your temperature. Could you do me a favour and stick this under your tongue? Thank you.” The expression of confusion briefly flickered but nonetheless he acquiesced and allowed for the thermometer to be placed in his mouth. After a few seconds a shrill beep emanated from the device and the youth removed it. He took a quick glance at the display and fought back a wince.

“How bad?”

“39ºC.”

“Shit.” Privately, the young detective agreed wholeheartedly with the hissed sentiment.

“So, this is probably going to be rather redundant but...how are you holding up?” The utterly flat look that had been provided brought forth another cringe and solidly ended that line of enquiry. “Yeah I figured as much.” The teen muttered.

“Mitsuhiko what the hell are doing you here?” Shinichi sighed, tired face drawn.

“Well for starters, you promised to call Yoshida-chan after you got back home Friday and never did.” He frowned. “At first, she was all too willing to let it slide thinking you might've just

forgot or perhaps had something else come up. However, after a few days and a number of unsuccessful attempts to try and get into contact with you she started to get...worried, and thus enlisted our help.”

Carefully as so to not disrupt the covers, he lowered himself to perch on the mattress. “We went around with some enquiries to see if anyone else had come into contact with you recently but apparently no one had. Not since you worked with us on that case with that killer and the dog lady...That was last Friday.” He met foggy blue eyes with a weighted stare. “Today is Thursday.”

Utter blankness. Then, eyes drifted shut of their own accord and the ghost of a smile graced their owner's lips. “That long, huh?”

Mitsuhiko let out an incredulous snort, “That's all you have to say for yourself? You had us all wondering if something terrible had happened to you. Again.” He shook his head, amusement colouring his tone. “Kojima-kun was even halfway ready to ditch class just so we could head over to the precinct and ask the officers there if they would be willing to go on a search and rescue. All on the off chance you had been kidnapped again or something.” And thank goodness Ayumi, ever the voice of reason, had managed at the very last minuet to talk him out of that little venture.

“Heh yeah? And...where are they?” The bedridden detective inquired curiously.

“Ah well...as you know Kojima-kun and Yoshida-chan are both involved in extracurricular activities, wrestling and karate respectively, and as such had a practice today that neither of them could really afford to miss. So I volunteered to go ahead and pursue matters concerning you so they could go about their business and hopefully put their minds at ease.” And of course not prompt them do anything overly drastic and above all dangerous. Well any more so than usual anyway. “And honestly, I'm glad I did.”

“The way you looked lying there...It made me wonder for just a moment if I was going to have to use every ounce of my investigative knowledge to find whoever had done such a thing and bring them to justice for your sake.” His tone turned wry as he flashed the other an uneasy smile. “Suppose you should be glad 'overworking oneself to the point of exhaustion' isn't a chargeable offence then or else you would have probably been taken in ages ago.”

“Smartass.” Shinichi huffed, exasperated with a trace of fondness that lingered underneath.

“Learned from the best.” He quipped with dry look.

The older man whuffed good-naturedly and let his attention stray a bit. Half-lidded eyes drifted shut as time imperceptibly trickled away and with it went what little levity the banter had brought. A hush descended upon the room as the duo were lost each to their own world. The teenager went about shifting the little set up he had fixed earlier so the items would be within reach if needed. Having finished he scooted the desk chair over a touch as well, plonked down, and settled himself in for the wait.

“Damn it...”

Mitsuhiko started. “What?”

“Wasn't finished...the files.” Shinichi stopped, having ran out of breath. He grimaced and tried again. “Back there...I wasn’t...done. Still not.” The other latched on to what he was trying to get at and immediately made his opinions on the matter known.

“No.”

The sharp vehemence packed behind that simple word seemed to draw the other up short. Through cracked eyes he regarded him for a second and echoed. “No?”

“No.” He repeated with a shake of the head. “ No. Absolutely not. Sensei, you're in no shape whatsoever to be working on anything at the moment. I mean, you've already run yourself down enough as it is and I cannot in good conscience allow to this to continue on any further.”

“Been worse.” The other mumbled mulishly.

'And okay knowing him that's probably true but still-' It was the whole principle of the matter. “That may be but at the moment you need to rest. At least until your fever goes down a bit.”

While stubborn may he be, he was not so out of it at the moment as to not have seen the logic of the other's words, however that did not necessarily mean he had to like it nor make it easy for the teen. “It needs to be finished. There's no time...” He breathed out, gaze narrowed into slits. “...to be lying around.”

Mitsuhiko's hands clenched slightly in his lap, and he felt his brow twitch slightly. 'Well if he's determined to play it that way then...fine.' He met the look with one of his own. “You know...some extra 'lying around' when it is necessary to do so would not kill you. While on the other hand, working well past your own limitations to the cost of one's health will. Sensei, please don't make this any harder than it has to be.”

And so with gazes locked upon one another they waged a silent battle of wills, neither wanting to back down and acquiesce to the other party's demands. It as a good thing, he supposed, that the fever had somewhat dimmed the normally razor-like stare for he feared that he would not have withstood the barrage as well as he did otherwise. Though capable as he was holding his own against all manner of criminal element and other such dangers, the sharp scrutiny patented by the older male had always brought about most peculiar sort of feeling which never ceased to unnerve him. It was just something about the way the brunette seemed to look beyond so that he may grasp at something intangible and drudge it up from murky depths to present it to the light. Which is why when it was Shinichi who was the first to cave that he felt no small wash of relief.

Leaning back, the teen studied him for a moment. The taut set of his jaw and the resigned air in which he had held himself spoke volumes of his thoughts on the subject. Though, having recognized the futility of furthering the argument in his current state, regardless how much he wished to do so, he held his tongue. Mitsuhiko felt at twinge of guilt slip through at the sullen display and silently cursed his bleeding-heart.

“...If...If this is really so important for you to finish this maybe...I could do something?” His hands shifted slightly, opening and closing uncertainly before they lifted to remove the dampened washcloth upon his mentor's head. Focused on the damp fabric rather than the man beside of him, he continued. “I mean, I've dealt with this type of thing enough that I'm certain I could keep up with whatever there is to do so at this point.” Water dripped down his fingers as he wrung the rag of its excess. He could positively feel the reluctance radiating from him as he gently set the cool cloth back into place.

“Or...maybe I could do some housekeeping instead while you rest? There kind of is a bit of a mess downstairs after all.” That was an understatement. “And when's the last time you had anything substantial in your system to keep you going?” Mitsuhiko caught the other's look and cut him off. “And no, however many pots of coffee does not count.” He toyed with his hands a second before they dropped uselessly to his lap. “Sensei...” His head drooped and tone soon followed suit. You can't do everything yourself so please, just let me help.”

“Mitsuhiko...you...” Shinichi's stare fell upon his shoulders as he regarded him. Finally he turned away, eyes drifted shut as said with the driest tone he could muster: “ ...are the biggest mother hen... I have ever met.”

The weight bearing down upon Mitsuhiko's shoulders broke free and he raised his head. A smile to rose through to the surface. “So I've been told.”

The clack-clack of the knife as it met with the wooden surface melded seamlessly with the gentle bubble of the pot nestled upon the stove to fill the area with a sense of life that was so rarely observed anymore by its inhabitants.

“And...that should cover it. Now to just let it simmer until the vegetables become tender then it'll be ready to serve.” Having placed the spent utensils into the sink he stepped back and made to leave the room. House scuff-clad feet plodded silently as he meandered his way back through the house, only stopping when his path had taken him around and back to one room in particular: the study.

The door stood ajar, thrown back in his prior haste he had completely forgotten about the thing. It wasn't as if one could blame him though, since his thoughts at the time had been somewhat preoccupied with matters that were a tad bit more important. From where he stood now the mound of papers were on full display and almost unbiddenly he felt himself drawn to the sight.

'Such a mess.' His thoughts drifted back to the bedridden figure a floor above his head and the name cause of said mess. 'Now it isn't like I don't understand as to why he gets so touchy about others dealing with his personal objects and the like, because I do.' Padding carefully though the sea of papers he managed to reach its centre, 'And I can accept that there are certain things which are necessary to keep to oneself for risk of unwanted parties gaining access to them. That's simply the nature of investigative work.' Kneeling, the teen set to righting the overturned desk chair. His hand lingered for a moment on the back. 'I just wish he would realize he doesn't have to shoulder all of this by himself all the time. That's all.'

“How's anyone suppose to work in this anyway?” He huffed fondly, “Honestly...”

And so the next few minutes rolled by as he went to work shaping the room into something a touch less chaotic. It was somewhat of a hassle to balance the need for orderliness as well as respecting his mentor's desire for privacy but he somehow managed, having simply opted to shuffle the items off to the side where the other could deal with them later on.

“Ah!” He stifled a curse. A thick file folder resting on a stack that he'd been trying to move had somehow slipped free of the others and tumbled to the floor and burst open upon contact. Mitsuhiko sighed and bent down to collect the loose papers now scattered around his feet. As he shifted the pieces in what was hoped to be some semblance of their former order a snippet of text had managed to snag the teen's eye. 'Huh? What's this...'Apotosis'?' Curious, he tested the foreign word on his tongue.

The word was nestled along between some rather complex kanji, English script, and what appeared to be a hodge-podge of both Greek and Latin. He frowned contemplatively, 'Hm, from what I can make of the surrounding text it appears to be in relation to something of a biochemical nature, although it doesn't seem to particularly relate to forensics or anything like that...But what would he need such a thing as this for? To help with a past case maybe?'

With every line skimmed, Mitsuhiko could not help but wonder: what was this strange disquiet that had seemed to settle over him like fog? Something about this whole thing felt off but as to what exactly he was uncertain.  He flipped a page over and paused. There was something attached to the next one. With gentle fingers he pried it away to take a look.

“Ah this is-!” A glimmer of understanding dawned in his eyes briefly before it morphed into something else. His gaze flickered from folder in his hands to the stack from where it had originated from then back again. Slowly, he set the file back on the pile, hesitated, then proceeded to slide the one underneath it out. “...”

Mitsuhiko stared at the item that rested in his grasp as if it were mere minuets away from sprouting any number of horrid things. This was going to get him in so much trouble when the elder detective found out. (Not if, because he was going to find out eventually. It was just a matter of time...and he would be absolutely livid when he did.) With in mind the teen took a fortifying breath, flipped the cover, and began to read.

Moonlight filtered softly into the darkened room, its gentle light intermingled with the sound of quiet breaths as the figure slept. With an imperceptible click the door creaked open. The other made no move to come in, instead intent to gaze upon the man with a strangely shadowed cast to his features. As if aware of the stare, the slumbering man turned and shifted slightly, yet ultimately did not wake. For a brief moment something flickered across his expression before it melded back into a curiously blank mask. Wordlessly, he stepped back and the door drew shut with a resolute click.

Those demons that lie in wait were to be dealt with yet another day and until then the stolid walls that surrounded would continue to stand sentinel to the secrets there. For he was to stand with them; to be a support for when it was to be needed. Waiting for the day until they of their own volition rose to light, or perhaps, until even the echos themselves should fade into the dark. After all, what kind of friend would he be if he couldn't keep a secret?