The things that we aren't,

And can't be for each other,

Petals in the wind,

And tears in her eyes,

There's a misery in honesty,

And a terrible kind of joy.

…..

This isn't working, Shinichi thinks, watching the increasing tautness of Ran's shoulders as she rambles. Ran is gesturing in a way that could be read as energetic but it's excessive. Far more than is normal for her even at her most exuberant. And… She isn't making eye contact. We're walking, so that's not unreasonable, but…

"- and then Sonoko –"

He lets her voice wash through him, releasing comprehension in favour of hearing tone. High. Too fast. Falsely bright. Trying too hard.

He can't blame her. He's been doing the same thing lately.

Shinichi takes a slow, deep breath, consciously releasing the tension he can feel in his own muscles. Ran isn't… She's faking happiness for him. And that is so very, very wrong. He's never wanted that for her.

This isn't working.

He says the thought out loud.

"Eh?" Ran says. "What did you say, Shinichi?"

A sidewalk on their way home, abandoned or not, is neither the time nor the place for this conversation. There's never going to be a right time.

Shinichi stops walking. So does Ran.

Ran's actually looking at him now. "Shinichi?" There is a flicker of uncertainty under her pasted on smile.

"Ran," he says, "this isn't working."

She freezes, eyes wide.

"Ran, I, we aren't…" he trails off unable to force the words past the lump in his throat.

She droops, the too vibrant cheer and built up tension leaving in a whoosh of acknowledgement. Shinichi's hand twitches but he doesn't move to comfort her.

He gasps for air. "You aren't happy," he says, voice coming out in an unstable croak. "This," he gestures sharply between the two of them, "Ran, we aren't okay."

His chest is tight as Ran looks away, silence stretching between them.

Shinichi swallows.

"No," she murmurs finally. Shinichi cannot tell if that is an agreement or a disagreement, or something else entirely.

And then she meets his gaze properly for the first time in days.

"I love you, Shinichi," she says.

It's a punch to his gut. He breathes through it, not letting himself drop eye contact. He owes her that. Owes her so much more than that.

But he owes her honesty too.

"It's always been you, Ran. I've always loved you. I always will," he says, all raw truth. "But I'm making you miserable."

"It's been a month," she says. "We've only been dating for a month."

She not arguing against what he said, and Shinichi can feel a sort of creeping nausea at the tacit agreement.

"And it's," she's trembling, "it's only been half a year since, since Conan. I was so angry at you, Shinichi, and that's, it's not okay. It's still not okay, but I want… I want this to work. But I'm…and you are... You are a completely different person. It's – You are right in front of me and I still miss you. And I miss Conan too, even though you and he are… How stupid am I?" Her face crumples.

"Ran," Shinichi says. "Ran, I –"

"And you," she continues, "you act like you don't even know where you are or what you want –"

"I want you to be happy!" The confession is dragged from him like the screech of chalk on a board. "I want to make you happy!"

Ran sobs, dropping her bag and throwing herself at him. Abruptly they are a mess of limbs and tears sprawled on a public sidewalk.

Ran clings to him and Shinichi… Shinichi holds her close with trembling arms, hiding his face in her hair.

"What are we going to do?" she asks, voice quivering.

"I don't know," he admits softly.

And it's misery because it feels like an ending.

And it's a terrible kind of joy, because, for the first time in ages, it's real.

"I really don't know."