Author's Comments: Hello! It's been a while since I posted anything, I know. I'm very sorry! My fingers have been itching to write something for FFN, but my brain couldn't come up with good material...until now.

A little background info on this fanfic: Kazuha and Heiji had a bit of a falling-out. I won't go into specifics--I'm sure you can come up with plausible explanations for a falling-out between best friends. Like Proximity, this fanfic echoes a recent personal experience of mine. (I wish it didn't, though.) Note that this is labeled as "angst" for a reason.

Of course I don't want to put Kazuha and Heiji through drama! I just wanted to try writing a different aspect of their relationship to each other. I hope you enjoy reading this! Please review--like I said, it's been a while since I wrote any fanfiction.

Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan.


She knew he'd be there.

His face kept running through her mind as she adjusted her scarf one more time. His name interrupted her thoughts like a schoolchild continuously trying to cut in line. She had no reason not to be surprised when she saw him walk into the auditorium and take his seat. Her heart had no reason to kick into fourth gear when he took his seat, propping his chin up against his palm, his dark bangs draping over his sharp green eyes.

She'd volunteered to take part in the school play to help raise money for a local disaster relief fund. It was a minor role—just a random girl who was observing a happy reunion between a father and his daughter. She and her "boyfriend" would sigh and gaze into each other's eyes, sharing an unspoken promise to never part from the other, no matter what.

She knew he'd be there to see her, smiling at another man in a silent declaration that she was perfectly fine without him...that if she ever was in love with him, this is what it would look like.

The director had told all the minor characters that they were free to sit in the audience and watch the show during the scenes they weren't involved in. She wasn't needed until the second act, so she'd promised to meet up with her friends before the play started so they could all get good seats.

"We'll sit in the back so you can sneak out without bothering anyone," her friends said.

And sit in the back they did. She bought a ticket (she knew she didn't have to, but it was only five dollars and it went towards a good cause) and settled herself in a seat a few rows from the back of the room, closest to the aisle. Her friends chattered about random topics, teasing her about forgetting her lines. ("I don't have any lines! Stop pressuring me!")

Then, one of her friends grew silent, her eyes widening. "Kazuha," she whispered.

She ceased her laughter. She knew.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him saunter down the aisle, hands stuffed in his pockets and back facing her.

"Say hi, Kazuha," a friend hissed.

Her eyes darkened as she shook her head. They tried to protest, but she stubbornly squashed the notion by striking up conversation again, refusing to look at him.

As she and her friends began talking and as he finally settled into a seat several rows up, all she could do was curse at herself and her pounding heart. She knew. This shouldn't have been surprising to her. She shouldn't feel like she was caught off guard.

The lights dimmed and the stage curtains drew back. The audience quieted down, focusing ahead as a young girl enters the stage, sitting at a dining table where—

She flicked her eyes away from the area he sat in, her jaw clenching.

The play went on. Her heart finally quelled, but to her chagrin, the hollow, dull ache in her chest didn't vanish. As she stood up to sneak out the back, she had to mentally will her legs to stop shaking.

A new sense of apprehension welled up in her lungs, building and building as she neared the entrance to the right backstage wing. Flashing a quick—fake—smile at her "boyfriend," she squeezed her hands together to release some of her nerves before striding out into place.

She knew he was out there, a mere three or four rows from the front, watching everything. Watching her.

An arm wove around her shoulders as the father and his daughter embraced in a tight hug. She plastered a huge smile on her face, turning to face her "boyfriend," making that silent promise…hoping he'd believe her bold, silent declaration that she was perfectly fine without him.

If only she was so sure about the declaration herself.

Blackout settled over the stage like a wave of relief. She scurried off to the backstage wing, fighting the urge to scream out all the tension compressing her gut. She wasn't needed for the final bows. She could leave.

Sneaking towards her seat in the audience, she snatched her purse and jacket, muttering a quick "goodbye" to her not-so-confused friends. The moment she closed the auditorium door behind her, she ran to her car, praying he wouldn't (would) chase after her.

She thought she was through with it all…with drowning in thoughts of him, with replaying his voice…with trying to confine her heart from bursting out of her chest and leaping into his face, demanding him to see what was in front of him.

Surprise, surprise.


Author's Afterthought: Yup, it's pretty vague...and depressing. I intended it to be that way, though. I promise that the next Kazuha&Heiji fanfic I write will be much lighter. Thank you for reading! Please review!