A/N: Due to horrible time management which lead to last minute drabbles, be warned that every single entry for this coai week has been rushed af.

Quantum: The minimum amount of any physical entity involved in an interaction.

Prompt 1: Trust.

Certainty

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"Hey, Miyano! It's me. Are you still up?"

"No."

"OI— wait, don't hang up on me! MIYA—"

"Would you kindly stop screaming at me, Kudo? I can hear you perfectly clear."

"Oh, you're still there. I thought you'd hang up again. Aheh."

"Honestly." An exasperated pause, "What do you want?"

"Hey, it's not my fault!" Shinichi protests, and Shiho rolls her eyes as she pictures the man-child's pout he must be wearing on his face, "You're always hanging up me. It's rude, you know?

"Did you seriously call me at this hour just to lecture me about communication etiquette?"

"Of course not!" He says defensively, "I was just wondering if you were still up…"

"Well, I am now."

"So,"

"So…?"

"I— um, can you come over?"

Silence.

"Kudo-kun,"

"...Yes?"

"It's a quarter past twelve."

"I know."

"You better not tell me—"

"I'm hungry."

She sighs.

.

.

.

"Jeez, Kudo. You look like crap."

The detective pokes his head from behind a messy stack of documents. He snorts humorlessly and, throwing her a playful glare, rubs his hands to comb back some tousled strands of hair that fall over his face. "Thanks, Miyano. You look dashing too, as always."

Stuffing the spare key back into her purse, the girl makes her way into his living room after kicking off her shoes and slipping her feet into a pair of white and blue striped slippers. A few folders lay open on the coffee table, missing files are scattered carelessly around the floor. In front of her, an exhausted mess of disheveled clothed and dark circles under dark blue eyes.

"No thanks to you." Shiho deadpans. With a smirk, Shinichi pushes away a small pile of documents to clear a little corner on the table, where the scientist places a bag with take out food. "You have to stop calling me at this hour. I don't want us to end up with matching eye bags."

"Hai, hai." Shinichi says dismissively as he struggles to undo a knot on the plastic bag. "You truly are a lifesaver, though . What would I do without you?"

"Die, obviously." She says matter-of-factly.

His face falls into a grimace, and he stops wrestling with his late dinner package to look at her in a half-apologetic, half-accusing expression, "Oi— I can't be that bad!"

"Your self-care skills are as good as the next kindergartener, and you're dependent to a ridiculous extent." She asserts irritated.

Abruptly, he turns his head to face her, cheeks puffed with a half-chewed chicken leg he just stuffed into his mouth.

"Egh!?" The starving detective utters with a puzzled expression, "I'm not!"

"Then how did you even manage to run out of food for the third time again this week? I just stocked your fridge two days ago. And don't lie to me, Kudo: have you even been to the kitchen?"

He looks away, visibly flustered as he mumbles something within the lines of "busy" and "work".

Shiho throws him a very meaningful look.

"You can't just constantly overwork yourself to the point of near-death and expect me to be here to pick up your pieces, Kudo-kun— You've got to start taking proper care of yourself! I'm neither your nutritionist nor your caretaker, and I'm most certainly not going to keep playing the role of your mother ."

"Eh—" Shinichi grimaces, "I don't need another mother."

"What you need is a wife."

"See, now you do sound like my mom."

"Seriously, it's a miracle you've managed to survive all these years on your own. And it's only gotten worse since Mouri-San left."

He shoots her a warning stare, which she holds defiantly. After a brief pause, he sighs in resignation. "Can we please not discuss this again? She went on with her life. End of story."

"I do have a life too, you know?"

"Do you—?" He asks with puzzled innocence before realizing his mistake. She's livid, eyes gleaming with a murderous glint. He chokes, "I mean, of course you do!"

"Honestly, Kudo! I'm not going to be your ass AM delivery girl forever."

He chuckles apologetically, which only serves to aggravate her further.

"Eh, but it's not as if you're seeing someone, right?"

"That's neither here nor there." She mumbles grumpily, irritated that he would assume with such confidence that her life revolves about him exclusively— which is partially truth, but he doesn't need to know that! "The point is that you're placing your trust where you shouldn't, and that blind certainty that I'll always be there to patch you up when you tear yourself apart it's frankly unfounded, and foolish to a fault!"

He pauses for a couple of seconds to stare at her, "Wow. You're being serious."

"I don't like being taken for granted, Kudo."

He scoffs.

"Well, then. If it eases your mind, I don't, in any way. You're the last person I'd expect to have waiting unwavering on anything, let alone on me. And it's not because I don't trust you —which I do, it's true, maybe to an absurd degree as you put it— but because of your infuriating tendency to run away. And it's not fair, Miyano! You're the one who's made me paranoid about you disappearing any day without a trace, so don't you come complaining that I like to keep in touch."

She blinks back at him incredulously.

"So that's it? You've been doing it to keep track on me?" She huffs with disbelief, trying to ignore the fuzzy feeling growing on her chest, "Can't you just text like normal people do? Gee, Kudo. You don't need to subject yourself to chronic famine in order to keep my friendship. I'm also free on weekends, you know?"

"You never pick up the phone unless it's ridiculously late, don't give me that!"

"Indeed, because that's what late night calls are reserved for— emergencies. You're just a lazy opportunist, admit it!"

"This is an emergency. You wouldn't be here if you thought otherwise, would you?

He has the audacity to be cheeky, smiles and all.

She fumes. Smug little bastard, playing on her weakness. It's embarrassing to recognize that they both know her weakness is him.

"My beauty sleep is the current emergency." She declares, getting on her feet and announcing, "I'm going to sleep now. Goodnight."

"Wait—"

"Enjoy the couch, Kudo—" She glances at the stack of files dangerously overflowing his sofa, and her lips curl into a mischievous smile, "Well, what's left of it."

"Eh!?"

But she's already reached the end of the short corridor, and she stands on the mahogany doorway.

"Oi, that's my room! MIYA—"

Shiho peers though the closing gap of his bedroom door and, with a last smirk, shuts it close before catching a last glimpse of his frustrated pout.