It's been nine years. Nine years, eleven months, and thirty days. Tomorrow, at midnight, it will have been ten years since he all but disappeared from my life. It will be ten years since I last saw him for more than one day at a time. And the fact of that is painful. More than anything else in my life, the fact that he left me, without technically leaving me, is painful. I loved him. I'm sure that I loved him, ten years ago when I was seventeen. But I don't, not anymore. I somehow managed to get over him. It helped a lot, when Conan moved out when he was nine. He had always looked a little too much like Shinichi, and with him gone, with the reminder of the man who left me gone, I was finally able to heal.
The wound has never completely closed, though. Can you imagine ever completely healing when the man you love—and more than that, your best friend—disappears basically without a trace and leaves you no way of contacting him? I can't either. But in the time since Shinichi left, and in the time since Conan left, I have managed to heal, if not completely. And I've grown, as a person, as a human being. I know more now. I still don't fully understand, and I doubt if I ever will, but life is like that. I've gone to college. I'm not a lawyer, like I originally wanted to be, but a teacher. I think Jodi-sensei had a profound effect on me, all those years ago. I've been teaching for a few years, at a middle school here in Beika, and I love my job. Overall, I couldn't be happier.
So as I sit here, in my pajamas with my glass of wine in my small, but comfortable apartment halfway between either of my parent's apartments, waiting for midnight to make it ten years since the boy I loved left me, it is painful, yes. But it is more than that. It is invigorating, to realize how far I have come without him. Ten years ago, I would have never thought I could do all I have without him there for me, in one way or another. And, as sad as this anniversary is, it is also a turning point, because as much as I've grown a part of me has always been waiting for Shinichi.
Ten years is an awfully long time to wait.
But I'm putting that behind me, tonight, at midnight. I'm putting all of that behind me, and moving on. Completely, this time.
The hallway clock is striking 12.
I stand. The clock has chimed five times, now. My doorbell rings suddenly, drowning out the sound of the seventh chime. Curious, and slightly confused, I walk to the door. The clock is chiming for the eighth time.
Ninth.
Tenth.
Eleventh.
Twelfth.
I open the door.
It's been ten years. It's 12:00, on April 25th, and ten years of my work to move forward have just been trampled.
Standing at my door is Shinichi Kudou, looking exactly the same as he did that night at Tropical Land.
--
It's been ten years. Ten years. And all she can do is stare. The boy that plagued her dreams—and nightmares—is standing right in front of her, but all she can do is stare. He looks exactly the same.
Some things are different, she realizes. Some things, but not much. His hair looks freshly cut, unlike how it did back then. There's an old blood splatter pattern around the collar of his shirt and hoodie, faded to brown but still clearly blood splatter, and there is a sickening feeling in her stomach as she realizes that must be his blood. But then she's angry. She's looking at him with intensity, fire smoldering in her eyes, and her voice steely.
"What are you doing here, Shinichi?"
--
Her voice stings. He hadn't been expecting a warm reception, but the ice in her voice cuts him like a knife. He has been waiting, waiting ten years to finally face her as himself, to tell her his side of things, but the sound of her voice nearly causes him to loose his nerve.
It's painful when he swallows, trying to work up enough spit so that his voice doesn't sound raspy and pathetic. Despite his efforts it still does.
"Can I come in?" he asks.
Her eyes bore into his. She looks almost like she's going to explode, when finally, she moves to the side, and allows him to pass.
--
As he takes off his shoes, her heart constricts when she realizes that even his socks are the same. His left one has a hole at the heel, and the right a small bleach stain on the top of the foot, because back then, he did his own laundry, and had just started attempting to separate colors from whites. She closes the door but leaves it unlocked, and turns to face him. Her arms are by her sides, but stiff, like the rest of her stance, as if preparing for a fight.
It hurts him to see her like this. He can count on one hand the number of times she's had that look on her face, and never before has it been pointed at him.
"What do you want?"
"I was hoping to talk,"
"What could we possibly have to talk about, Shinichi?"
"I want to explain—"
"Explain?! Explain what? How you just disappeared from my life ten years ago? How you showed up, only to have to leave within the day all those times? Well I don't want to hear it, Shinichi. I really don't. I have a life now. And I will not allow you to ruin it."
"Ran, please--"
"No, Shinichi. Just, no. I want you to leave. And I don't ever want to see you again."
Shinichi looks defeated. His eyes are pleading, but Ran's are hard and unyielding. He swallows thickly, fighting back tears, and nods, seemingly understanding. He puts back on his shoes, and walks out the door. The door closes again, and this time, Ran does lock the door. Shinichi gone, Ran looses her harsh look, as well as the feeling in her legs, and crumples to the floor. Tears are pouring down her cheeks. The wound of Shinichi's departure has been ripped open again.
She hiccups, smiling brokenly through her tears as she idly wonders if it will take another ten years to heal this time.
--
Ten years ago, I was Shinichi Kudou, teenage detective prodigy. Now that's only partly true; on paper I'm Conan Edogawa, distant relative to famous Shinichi, to explain away our similar appearances. I've been living the last ten years of my life hiding in plain sight. And it's taken me ten years, but I've finally gotten to a point where I can go back to the girl I loved.
Except that I can't. I am, legally, still Conan. Even though she saw me tonight as Shinichi, I am still Conan. Besides that, she doesn't want anything to do with me. It's been too long, I guess. I made her wait too long. And really, what right did I have to expect her to take me back? I'm not sure I was even really expecting her to.
I went to her apartment tonight wearing the same clothes I wore the last time I was truly Shinichi. They're a little different-the blood around the collar is by now a permanent stain that can never be removed, but they're still the same clothes. It took me ten years, but I had finally come full circle. I guess that's the real reason I decided to wear them. So I could come full circle, and finally, finally put an end to the lies I fed her. I wanted to tell her the truth. "There is only one truth," as I always say, and I had thought it was finally time to share mine with hers. To tell her why I left. That I had to leave; had to lie, all in order to protect her. The girl I loved.
I'm sure that, once upon a time, she would have understood. She would have gladly accepted everything I had to tell her-from the discovery of the crime syndicate, to going into hiding, and even my ultimate deception. She would have understood that, as one of their prime targets, I had to go into hiding not only to protect myself, but to take down the organization, and protect everyone I cared about while doing so, and even how I couldn't tell her a word of it.
But now it's too late. Too much time has passed, and even if she would understand, the girl I once loved is no longer there. She's been replaced with a woman who doesn't want to live in the past, and at the very least, I can respect that.