1.

Her husband didn't talk much, but one of the things he always said to her, no matter what, was the quiet 'it was delicious' in regards to her cooking after every meal.


2.

"It's like he's cursed or something!" Shizuka threw her arms up in exasperation at the text message from her son, explaining just why he wasn't going to make it home this time. "Murder after murder after murder after murder!"

"Mm," Heizo replied, reading the files his subordinates had sent him.


3.

"Have some tea, dear, you look like you're about to die from lack of sleep."

"Mm."

(To everyone else, he looked as stoic and strong as ever, but they weren't exactly going to argue with his wife, especially on this one.)


4.

Every anniversary, without fail, he always got her something special and heartwarming. Every anniversary, without fail, she cooked up three feasts, each enough to make the sturdy antique table's legs bend slightly with their weight.

Every anniversary, without fail, Heiji had to sit through an hour of listening to just how his parents had fallen in love with each other even if he had memorized the entire story word for word after the seventh year he'd been forced to sit through this tradition.


5.

"Heiji's so mean to me!"

"Mm."

Their son had a lump on his head and an unusually polite behaviour towards her for the next few days.


6.

"Shizuka, no more private calls during work."

The new rule put an end to the short and frequent 'I love you' calls that had been sent to him every twenty minutes and lowered his next phone bill significantly.


7.

Shizuka sighed. Even in the women's lingerie section, Heizo managed to look intimidating and composed, as usual. He also didn't look like he wanted to run out screaming.

Damn it all, she had lost her bet with Heiji.


8.

Contrary to popular belief, her husband did smile. Also contrary to further popular belief, witnesses of the smiles did not drop dead from shock. She was living proof of that.


9.

"I'm starting to think that one of us is going to have to get a serious tan," she remarked to her husband after the seventh time someone had expressed their disbelief of the dark-skinned Heiji being their son.

"Mm."


10.

All of the Hattori family members, close friends and servants had been sworn to secrecy . . . about the fact that Hattori Heizo actually had a huge sweet tooth. People thought that she bought all those sweets for herself.

She didn't mind – they all marvelled at how she managed to keep her figure so slim, and awe was always such a nice feeling.


11.

When he had to get a new phone after a suspect destroyed his in an attempt to get away, the first number he put in was his wife's.

It was the only one he bothered to remember, anyways.


12.

"Don't call your mother an old lady."

"Yes, dad."

"And Shizuka, don't stick your tongue out at Heiji."

"Yes, dear."


13.

"Heiji, Hakuba Saguru is an excellent young man with outstanding manners and remarkable patience. You would do well to learn from him."

"#$%&! Mom, did you hear him?!"

"Oh, my, I hear he has a pet hawk! How exotic!"

"Mom!"


14.

"Toyama wants Kazuha and Heiji to get married."

"I'll plan everything out!"

"Sit, Shizuka."


15.

He wasn't exactly the bring-his-wife-flowers-and-candy type of guy; he was more of the silent guardian knight type. Well, she had always wanted to be a princess. . . .


16.

"One day, when we're old, you'll enjoy looking at the tapes from times when you could actually hit Heiji hard enough to make him fall down."

". . ."

She had him there and he knew it.


17.

Heizo was immensely proud of his son and all his accomplishments, be they winning kendo tournaments or solving mysteries. It was just that between the two of them, Shizuka had become the mouthpiece.


18.

Shizuka once packed him his lunch in a pink, flowery plastic bento she had borrowed from the Toyamas, just for fun.

Nobody dared laugh. Or comment. Or react.

He still ate it all without even changing his expression.


19.

Heizo was, despite what his appearance and public personality might have shown, actually a very cuddly person. With a character sweet and soft like cotton candy.

Problem was, ninety-nine point nine percent of people didn't ever see that side.

"You might want to smile a bit more often, dear."

"Mm."


20.

"Ow . . . ."

"Dear, you can take a bit of pain."

". . . ow."

"Heizo, I'm cleaning your ears. I know for a fact that you've been through worse pain in your life."

". . ."

"There."

". . . ow."

"Oh, Heizo."


21.

Shizuka was always tempted to tell Heiji about just how hot-headed Heizo had been when he was young.

He disapproved. And used his veto power to prevent her from doing so.

She wrote it in her will anyways, just in case.


22.

"We could sign up for the cooking program for couples."

"No, Shizuka."

It was for the best. A friend of hers later told her that the cooking teacher had been a talentless amateur.


23.

One day, while cutting a fish up for dinner, her blade slipped and cut her finger. She had cleaned her wound and wrapped it up tightly, but a bad feeling had coiled in her stomach, and like an evil snake had refused to leave.

Then a call came. Her husband was at the hospital.


24.

The thug later confessed that he had been after revenge. Since Heizo was more than capable of taking care of himself, he had gone after the way of emotionally hurting him.

It was a relatively good plan. Wait until the husband was a bit distanced from the wife, and then hit her with a blitz attack to take her down. He had assumed it would be easy. She certainly looked the part of the frail woman in the traditional clothes and hairstyle.

The thug had grabbed her wrist only to be easily flipped onto his back in the span of half a second before a fan snaked out of a sleeve and struck him on his temple so hard he saw stars everywhere.

"I feel like I should be insulted," Shizuka sniffed disdainfully as the blubbering man was not-so-gently pulled away by officers into a waiting cell.

"Mm," said Heizo in agreement.


25.

She had once wanted a house full of children. Sons, daughters . . . it hadn't mattered. She had wanted four at the very least, two for each of her arms. The thought of growing old to the bustling sound of children laughing had been her greatest dreams.

Before marrying him, she had been honest and told him what he wanted. He wasn't the type to easily show his emotions, and he had never made his opinion about children clear except that he did want them. But wanting was different from wanting so many, which was why she asked.

"Do you want a lot of children?" he asked when she told him of her dreams.

She nodded. He was a good man, she knew this. She loved him. She wanted to be with him, wanted him to be the father of her children. Her hopefully many children.

"Then yes," he said. "I'd like to have lots of children with you."

Back then, she had cried in happiness.


26.

During her first pregnancy, the two of them had been so excited. A boy, doctors said. A healthy boy, he would be.

Then, during labour, something had gone wrong. There had been the pain of labour, an agony worse than anything she'd ever felt before in her life, but something else had spiked. And with that spike, a panic within her had grown as the nurses and doctors began muttering and barking urgently.

Heizo, stoically letting her claw and dig her nails into his hand, had been forced to let her go and she was wheeled quickly to a surgery room where they strapped her down to a table so narrow, she felt like she would tip over and fall to the ground if she moved by even a centimeter.

Then they had put her under the lull of sedatives. It hadn't been hard – she'd felt quite tired by then – and she was out like a light, baby trying to leave her.

Please be safe, she had prayed.

And he was. When she came to, she was in a room with Heizo waiting for her. Their son was in his strong arms, and while there were clear bags under his eyes he lit up in his subtle, hidden way when she croaked out his name. "He's okay," her husband whispered as he passed the dark-skinned baby to her.

She chuckled at the resemblance he bore to her father-in-law, and held him against her heart, feeling the soft skin of her child – hers and Heizo's – on her skin and feeling relaxed, full, content. Welcome, baby, she had thought as Heizo put his arms around the both of them.


27.

The doctor in the white coat bore bad news for them. She'd nearly hemorrhaged to death, and both her and her son's lives had been endangered. The only way to save them had been to –

Shizuka's arms encircled her stomach, no longer round with the life it held. It would never hold life again. She would not have more children. Her son – her beautiful boy – would not grow up with siblings in a house filled with laughter and joyful cries, but alone. There would be no mentoring brothers, no protecting sisters for him.

She didn't cry. She couldn't. The tears wouldn't build up, wouldn't come.

There would be no other children for her and Heizo.

Her skin felt cold against her stomach.

The tears still didn't come.

Heizo's arms were warm around her. "You are strong," he rumbled.

Strength was not holding everything back. Strength was knowing what she felt, and letting it go.

Shizuka cried into his shoulder, and shook off the nurse that tried to dose her with anxiety medication. She needed to let it all out.

Heizo let her use him as a rock, and she held on tightly.


28.

"I hope," he muttered to their son, named Heiji by his grandfather. "That you'll be loud enough to fill this entire house with your noise."

He would probably regret that wish later, when Heiji was older. But Shizuka smiled genuinely, and if that was the price to pay then he would do so gladly.


29.

When they fought, she yelled until her face turned red and he left the house, silent with storms clearly howling within him. She cried sometimes in the kitchen, and he wandered out in the streets to clear his head.

Eventually, they would calm down. Eventually, they would see reason.

Eventually, they would always return to each other. They never really apologized directly – that wasn't her style, or his – but they both knew, and they both forgave each other wholeheartedly.

And that was enough.


30.

Sometimes Heizo wouldn't come into the house. Sometimes it would have been a rough day, with a person he couldn't save weighing on his conscious. Sometimes he would berate himself, punish himself for not doing more, for not being capable of doing more, for not saving more lives.

Sometimes Heizo would be too tired, and the abyss would leak into him a bit more, making him doubt and feel heavy with guilt.

Always, when he did this, Shizuka would stand at the door. She would give him his space, let him beat himself up silently, but she would stand there in clear sight. Words wouldn't get through to him, and especially not the tiring, repeated mantra of 'there was nothing you could have possibly done' that only served as further weights added onto his already-taxed shoulders.

Always, she would stand as tall as she could make herself, and stand as long as she needed to. Always, once he was ready to let it go, he would turn around and see her gentle smile, her understanding eyes.

Always, her love would be like a balm to his hurt heart, and he would recover, drinking off of her strength. She would let him, she would stand by his side, she would support him and she would love him.

Sometimes Heizo felt weak and helpless in the cruel and unkind world. Always, Shizuka made him feel strong enough to brace himself against the world again.


I've been working on this since 'in tempo', and that was like two years ago. Cleaning out my docs since I'm stressed.

And yes I'm writing the underdog parents pairings. Wouldn't call Eri/Kogoro or Yusaku/Yukiko exactly underdogs . . . but maybe.