A/N Happiest birthday for my first fandom friend, dearest momo! I was late for last year, so this time I made sure not to be late! With this, my debts are cleared… or not? XD
Déjà Vu
Kudo Shinichi stands by the entrance of the cafe, looking for his w-fake wife for the third time that day, and for the twenty-second time that week. He spots her instantly, as he always does, sitting by the window drinking coffee while on her laptop. He knows she knows he's here.
He straightens his coat and walks over to her, waving off the waitress approaching him.
With each step he takes, he feels a vague sense of déjà vu. Of course he would, having chased after her relentlessly the past days across halls after her lecture, across rooms when she's just about to go off work, across restos on days she doesn't have time to cook-across bars, even, that just so happen to have so many indecents leering!-and, like right now, across cafes on sunny afternoons she has time off.
It always starts the same. He approaches her and apologizes. He gets a hum of acknowledgment in reply, and that's it. Just like that, it always ends the same as well. He mails her, but she doesn't reply. He calls her, but she doesn't answer. So he goes to her. And when he does, she doesn't even look at him.
His last five tries though, he found that she doesn't look away anymore when he positions himself in front of her, as long as he slowly does so from her periphery. Quite crafty of him, he thinks! It's a small victory, but he'll take what he can get up against his cold boss of a wife!
-Fake wife, he reminds himself.
...It doesn't matter. He did something wrong so he should fix it.
He had tried waiting it over if she'd come around, like their scuffles before, but she didn't. He'd been annoyed at that so he had tried to play it off, but after a while, her absence just felt too weird... Or rather, her presence, while not being physically there with him, was too weird! He could hear her nagging everywhere. He is hyper-aware of the space, that's suddenly too empty, beside him, and sometimes he sees a strawberry blonde mop of hair only for it to disappear in a snap. He decided, days worth of chasing is a cheap price to pay for his sanity!
He didn't expect it to drag this long though. Along with a sense of déjà vu is… a fear? No, no, just a worry that things won't ever be back to the way they were. A minor worry is all it is.
But he isn't Kudo Shinichi if he gave up easily.
He reaches her table. Miyano Shiho brings the cup of coffee to her lips and takes a sip. Leisurely, as if to say, she could care less about him.
It always starts the same. Shinichi is about to apologize. To his surprise, however, she speaks first.
"It was supposedly our anniversary." She brings down her cup with a clink. She doesn't spare him a glance.
He gets in her line of vision anyway. He sits across her, replying, perhaps a bit too chipperly, "I know, and I told you, I'm sorry!" He's a bit excited, a bit more hopeful. She's finally initiating conversations again!
She avoids his eyes, and looks outside. "Hmm," is all she said.
With that hum, his heart plummets. Truthfully, It's been grating on his nerves, but if he got angry again it'll just turn into another shouting match and, this time, he just knows there'd be nothing of them left.
But this time, surprisingly-and thankfully! he thinks-she continues, "It's obvious you're sorry, given the way you're hounding me."
Sarcastic, annoying Shiho is back! If he was told two weeks ago that he would ever be this happy hearing obnoxious side comments from Shiho, he would laugh hysterically. This feels unreal-
"That, or you need me for something. What is it? Spit it out."
He hadn't even noticed he'd been smiling until he felt his face freeze on her words. That's what she thinks? That he's here for a favor?
He's angry. He's disappointed. It's painful because in a split-second, recalling what he'd done for the past days and observing from her view, it would really only look like he'd been trying to curry her favor for something he wants done. After all, if he were to put himself in her shoes, it had always been that way between them, and he had given her no reason to believe otherwise.
His self-loathing can wait until later though. Not right now, when she's finally speaking to him. "What, I can't be sincerely sorry for-"
Her voice in monotone carries on, "-ditching your dearest wife in favor of tracking a sleeping suspect yourself? But why does it matter? It's fake anyway." She had turned to look at him. Her eyes are calm-but he can tell.
"You're upset, and I'm sorry for making you feel that way."
"And why does that matter? Everything's fake."
"Shiho-"
"Miyano. It ended."
"Shiho, the deal's for six months-"
"You'll only be short a day, Kudo-kun. That deal ends tomorrow. Never knew the great detective to be so stingy." She raises her hand to call over the waiter. She's ready to leave.
But he isn't. He grabs her hand, gently bringing it down on the table, his fingers entwining themselves into hers. His eyes never left hers.
She scoffs. "Consider this special service, Shin. How many minutes would you like to hold hands this time?"
He doesn't waver. "I'm sorry."
She says, venomously, "I'm not an angel that waits, Shin. Don't treat me like you treat Ran, because I am not her."
His eyes bug, the expressions in his face switching, mixing, and he almost shouts, "I never-!"
She cuts him off, "You solved the case, Shin. No more need for dear wife Shiho." She had put her free hand on his shoulder to placate him. Her other hand, she untangles from his and raises it to call over the waiter.
She continues, "It's over. Aren't you glad? You won't have to hear me nagging you to wash the dishes again." She ends with a smirk that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
The waiter acknowledges her, and he goes off to prepare the bill.
Once he does so, she clasps her hands together and looks outside, ignoring her fake husband's pointed stare. Ex-fake husband, she corrects herself. Does that make her a fake divorcee? She entertains herself with idle thoughts just so she can bear his gaze.
But he won't let her. He reaches out, again, for her hand. He wraps them in his. He says, "One day."
She almost sighs. "Kudo-kun, I'm done-"
"Just one day, Shiho."
"Why?"
"Say yes."
"What for?"
"One day."
If she'd just been stronger, just been a little less in lo-a little less attached, she wouldn't have talked to him today. Hell, she wouldn't be in this predicament at all if so, because she would never have accepted the deal, never would have dug a hole so deep that in just six months she can't snap out of the role she was tasked to play. Perhaps, she was such a good actress that even she, herself, got fooled into thinking she can swim and not drown. Now, if she was an even greater actress, she just needed to make herself believe nothing had ever happened.
But she wasn't.
And she isn't.
She closes her eyes. Gently, slowly, her fingers tangle themselves with his. Out of habit, she tells herself. Just a troublesome habit.
She replies, "Tomorrow, then."
She curses herself for being so weak. To him. Always to him.