Author's Notes:
1. White Houses is a song by Vanessa Carlton; more lyrics than the ones I quoted here relate to the story, so those interested should read the entire song.
2. To help readers, the Japanese names (family name first) of the characters are, in the English dub:
Kudou Shin'ichi: Jimmy Kudo
Mouri Ran: Rachel Moore
Suzuki Sonoko: Serena Sebastian
Hattori Heiji: Harley Hartwell
Also, Detective Boys: Junior Detective League
Other characters who have not appeared yet in the dub are (spoiler warning):
Toyama Kazuha: Heiji's childhood friend/love interest
Haibara Ai: Shrunken inventor of APTX 4869, the poison that also shrunk Shin'ichi
Jodie Saintemillion: American FBI agent posing as an English teacher in Ran's school
3. Lastly, I chose not to use honorifics so I wouldn't butcher them!
Thanks for reading! Please review!
White Houses
"Admit it! You're happy I saved you from waiting by the phone all night like a lovesick girlfriend!" cried Sonoko, cocky as ever.
It was the night before I left for college, and Sonoko was dead set on getting me out of the house. She literally had begged on her hands and knees to drive me to one of her parents' smaller houses for a nice, quiet night. Though I doubted Sonoko could ever plan a nice, quiet night, I took advantage of our last chance to spend time together; and her dramatics were amusing, if nothing else. Now, as we drove through the lush, green countryside, Sonoko was reveling in her victory.
"I was not waiting by the phone," I insisted, trying hard not to blush, and looking away so she couldn't see my reddened cheeks. "And for the thousandth time, you know we're just friends."
Sonoko was right, though. I did need to go out. Ever since Dr. Agasa left the Agency that afternoon, I had tried Shin'ichi's cell phone seven times; every time, I only reached his voice mail with the tinny, computerized message. Not only couldn't I plan to meet him at the airport, or spend a few minutes talking with him: I couldn't hear his own voice.
More important, there was a certain something I considered telling him.
Oh well, I thought, at least I told him in the last message where I'll be. Though I hadn't mentioned it to Sonoko yet, I debated sneaking away with my cell phone to call him later.
She drove, reckless as usual, up the winding road. I leaned my head back and gazed through the open roof, watching as we passed underneath thick, leafy branches on this muggy, summer night. Snuggling into the car's soft cushions, I couldn't help but lose myself in the drone of Sonoko's gabbing.
Tomorrow night would be entirely different: I would be sleeping in a strange dorm room, with a strange new roommate, in a strange new country. Well, it's not that I thought of America as strange; it's just that, before accepting the half-tuition scholarship, I never thought I'd live there for four years straight. It was the mere thought of four years that scared and excited me, chilling my bones despite the uncomfortable heat. Four years—
The pale moon, reflecting silver on the leaves, almost made the road appear like a haunted trail. Checking and tucking in my long, white sundress, I joked with myself that if it was a haunted trail, as soon as they saw what I was wearing, any monsters along the road would claim me as their first victim.
"The house seemed a lot quieter without Conan running around," Sonoko said, calling me out of my reverie.
I nodded. "Yeah, I know. I feel bad for Dr. Agasa, since now there's nowhere else for Conan to go when his parents aren't around," I said with a sigh. "And I'm going to miss the little guy." The Mouri Detective Agency had been too quiet that evening before Sonoko arrived, with Dad passed out as usual, and me waiting by the phone.
"Ran, look! There it is."
I lifted my head to see Sonoko point to the house.
Crashed on the floor when I moved in
This little bungalow with some strange new friends
As I expected, it was very large, even though it was one of their smaller houses. Something about it made me think of a warm, cozy home, the kind where I always dreamed Mom, Dad and I would live together if Mom ever moved back with us. It was two stories tall and very wide, with dozens of small, curtained windows; a few steps cut into the wrap-around porch, leading to a set of mahogany front doors. Otherwise completely white, it shone in the moonlight like a pearl.
"Sonoko!" I cried. "It's beautiful! This is your house?"
Sonoko just giggled and gave me a wink. "Of course, silly! Did you think I was bringing you to someone else's house?"
I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to suppress a grin. "Just keep your eyes on the road, OK?"
As we pulled—with the squeal of slammed brakes—into the drive of the house, I was surprised that all the lights were out. This was supposed to be a party, right? Then I realized that she was trying to surprise me, so I figured I should humor her.
She unlocked and swung open the front doors, and I stepped into the blackness.
"Surprise!"
Two seconds later, bright lights flashed on everywhere, blinding me for a moment. As I struggled to see, I felt Sonoko take me by the arm and, after leading me to the slippers by the door, bring me into the carpeted living room. Recovering from my daze, I noticed that it was a small party with some of our former classmates and, to my thrill, Kazuha and Heiji. They all passed around bowls of snacks as well as cans of soda and, to my uneasiness, smuggled beer.
Stay up too late, and I'm too thin
We promise each other it's till the end
Sonoko obviously had party-proofed the room. All the lamp stands were lamp free, and coasters decorated the tables; there was also a yawning, empty space on the entertainment system where the television should have been. The stereo, however, was still there and some of the guests flew to it.
Jenny, a short, spiky haired brunette I remembered from English class, flipped through her CD collection with zeal. If she were here, Ms. Saintemillion would be impressed, I thought with a grin; in matters of their native language and otherwise, Jenny had always frustrated the teacher with her laziness.
Finally satisfied with her choice, Jenny put on a CD and cranked the volume of the music. I didn't know why, but something about the song struck me. The soft piano was, well, a little sad, but the driving beat made the butterflies in my stomach run wild. I couldn't recognize most of the words, since the song was in English; but I overheard the giggling Jenny tell her friends the name of the song—White Houses—and claim she was in it.
I grabbed a handful of chips from the counter connecting the living room with the kitchen. Soaking in the song and munching my chips, I began to feel as cheerfully lonely as the music. Then, realization hit me and I blushed: the song made me think of him.
A few years ago, I was certain that we'd be here at this party, together, joking about the past and laughing off our nervousness about the future. Or rather, Shin'ichi would be laughing at my nervousness, but deep inside I wouldn't mind that at all.
Now, I wondered what had happened to us; after all, we were inseparable.
Oh, who am I kidding? I thought, laughing at myself. As far as I knew we didn't exist, although that's what I secretly wanted.
Scanning the room, I kicked myself for unconsciously hunting for Shin'ichi. I knew that, as usual, he wasn't going to be here; but still, my eyes searched the crowd for some sign that he had shown up. Would he surprise me here, letting me know that if nothing else, he hadn't forgotten about me?
And another thought crossed my mind: If he did show up, what would I do?
With pretty eyed boys girls die to trust
I can't resist the day
My heart lifted for two seconds when I saw the back of Heiji's head—but it sank once the Detective of the West, not East, turned around.
"Hey, Ran!" he called, approaching with Kazuha, who crossed her arms in defiance.
"Please forgive this jerk, Ran," Kazuha said, scowling at Heiji. "We planned to visit earlier with Sonoko, but—"
"Kazuha got us lost," Heiji said, smirking.
Kazuha gaped. "Wha—"
Heiji, ignoring her, handed me a soda. "Good party, huh?"
"Um, yeah," I said, looking away and feeling as silly as ever. Heiji and Kazuha: now they're inseparable. I tried hard not to blush because of my stupidity and, in reaction, reached for a few more chips.
Kazuha rolled her eyes at Heiji, but let it go. "So, were you surprised, really?" she asked me with a grin, tossing her brown ponytail.
"What?" I blinked.
"You know," she chuckled. "That we threw you a going-away party."
"Well—" I began.
Kazuha raised her eyebrows as Heiji cleared his throat.
"OK, no—but please don't tell Sonoko that." I peeked behind Heiji to see if Sonoko had overheard; Kazuha squeezed my shoulders with another laugh.
Next thing I knew, some of the guys were teasing Jenny for playing her American girl pop. A bit of a wild child, she danced around the room, trying not to crash into the polished coffee table or to spill her beer as she twirled.
Jenny screams out and it's no pose
'Cause when she dances she goes and goes
Sonoko soon reappeared at my side. "So, how do you like your party?" she cooed.
"You definitely did a lot of hard work. Thanks a lot, really!" I said, flashing a bright smile. I wanted to give her a better, more satisfied answer, but knew that this was more her kind of party than mine.
She probably knew that, too, and shrugged. "Come on, Ran! There are some gorgeous guys that are dying to talk to you." She practically dragged me away from Kazuha and Heiji, who gazed in mild pity as Sonoko led me to the group near the stereo. Only Sonoko wouldn't mind talking to guys, if they were cute enough, with music blaring in her ears.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Sonoko, lost in the eyes of a tall, dark, muscled man, didn't hear the ringing, so I turned and saw Heiji answer it. Satisfied that he'd show the person inside, I returned to the non-existent conversation.
In the distance, I thought I heard a familiar voice, but I shook the thought away. Again, I was just being silly.
It was fun, though, basking in the meaningless chatter; after all, the laughter of friends felt so inviting, especially that night. The muscled man's friend, Akira, a thin guy with long, bleached blond hair, stepped in as DJ and started playing techno. Jenny and some others dragged people out of their seats to the floor, jumping and shaking to the music.
It's alright and it's nice not to be so alone
But I hold on to your secrets in white houses
Then, I felt a strong grip on my arm. Turning, I saw it was Heiji, who glanced back at the front door and swallowed hard—like he had just seen a ghost.
Looking in his eyes, I wordlessly asked what was wrong.
He shook his head; taking my hand, he led me through the dancing, swaying party-goers until we reached the front door. My heart started pounding, not knowing who might want to speak with me. It could be just another guest, or maybe someone with important news, or maybe it's the police, or—
Shin'ichi.
Gasping, I stared at Shin'ichi in disbelief. He was sweaty and flushed, just like those other times when he had appeared out of nowhere. He wore his green, hooded sweatshirt and jeans, reminding me of that last, ordinary night when we went to Tropical Land; and though his hair was messy, his eyes flashed with the determination I knew so well.
"Well, uh, I guess I'd better . . . ." Heiji trailed off, leaving us as he ducked into the house and closed the door behind him.
Though Shin'ichi stood on the steps only a few feet from me, moonlight and shadow veiled him in eerie light. Sadness swept over me, seeing him like this; it was the odd feeling of being so close to him, yet so far away.
Still, I hoped that he might be here to join the party; he was always late for everything, anyway—and I really wanted him to stay.
"Um, Ran, can we talk?" he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Sure, Shin'ichi," I said, the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He's here, but for how long? Maybe it's now or never. "You want to come in?"
"No—" he cried, nearly shouting. He paused to take a breath. "I mean, can we talk in the car?"
It was then that I saw the bright red convertible, not too far away, in the looping drive. When did he get a license? Did I miss that, too? But I also realized that the headlights were on, and the car was still running; he was not staying at all. My hopes dashed, I opened my mouth to demand that he speak here or nowhere, but then he stepped closer. The sadness in his eyes startled me.
"Please," he asked, offering me his hand, "Just for a few minutes?"
Maybe I'm a little bit over my head
I come undone at the things he said
Nodding, I gave him my hand and followed him across the gravel path to the idling car. The metallic, techno beats drifted on the breeze, and then faded completely as we walked farther away from the white house. Sliding onto the leather passenger seat, I waited until we both closed the doors before turning and yelling at him. "Shin'ichi, where on earth have you been? You haven't even called me for weeks!"
"I know, Ran—I'm sorry," he said, so distracted that his apology sounded like an afterthought, though I hoped it wasn't. "I—have something to tell you, and I don't have that much time." He bent his head over the steering wheel, his eyes shifting with some kind of indecision.
What is he trying to decide? What to tell me about that case he's always working on? I wished I could make him spill it already, finally tell me the mysterious secret that, brick by brick, had built an invisible wall between us.
"Shin'ichi," I tried, my voice shaking. "What is going on? I have to know."
"Nothing," he said cheerfully, though he slumped over the wheel.
I tried my best not to cry, but hot tears still stung my eyes and blurred my vision of Shin'ichi's face. Shivering, I crossed my arms and hugged myself; the air conditioner was turned on full blast in the freezing car, but Shin'ichi didn't seem to notice. Sitting so close to him, my heart hammered in my chest; and the words I wanted to speak, the words about what I felt for him, rose to my tongue—but refused to leave it.
"OK, Shin'ichi," I murmured instead, "what is it you want to tell me?"
He glanced at me, opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then lowered his eyes. "I just, well, heard that you were leaving, and I came to say—goodbye."
I blinked in surprise. "But everyone's going to see me off at the airport tomorrow. Can't you come then, too?" If I had been more honest with myself, it might have occurred to me that I didn't really want to leave Japan—or him—at all. "I mean, even Kazuha and Heiji will be there with Sonoko, Dr. Agasa, little Haibara Ai and all the Detective Boys, and of course, Mom, Dad and Conan—"
"Tonight's my only chance, Ran," he interrupted as he turned toward me, desperation in his voice. "I—I don't know when I might ever see you again." He clamped his mouth shut at this, as if he were afraid to say more.
"Shin'ichi," I gasped, eyes wide. This was too much to handle. Ever?
I sneak into his car's black leather seat
The smell of gasoline in the summer heat
Boy, we're going way too fast
It's all too sweet to last
I didn't understand. I couldn't understand. Time after time, as Shin'ichi ran away without any explanation, I kept hoping he'd come back someday. In that someday, everything would be normal again, and we'd talk about everything we used to—yes, even about his bottomless collection of Sherlock Holmes stories.
I breathed to still my churning stomach, inhaling gasoline fumes overpowered by the scent of new leather. "Nothing's normal anymore, is it, Shin'ichi?" I whispered.
He looked at me, startled.
Gulping, he said, "Uh, of course everything's normal, idiot, what makes you say. . . ." But he faltered with a sigh. "Ran," he continued, lowering his voice as he turned away, "I just want you to know that you—you don't—you don't have to wait for me anymore."
I burst into nervous giggles as, inside, I froze.
"Shin'ichi," I said, still giggling, "What are you talking about? Waiting for you for what?" Suspicion nagged at me, wondering if he already knew how I felt about him, and about how he knew. And if he did know, what was he saying? Maybe he was trying to let me down easily.
But even if he didn't feel the same way, even if I never saw him again, could I still tell him—that I love him?
Lost in his thoughts, he shook his head; whether it was out of frustration, or to shrug off a thought, or for some other reason, I didn't know. "Listen," he said, "there's something I've meant to tell you, but you don't have to—I mean, don't feel like you . . . ."
Trailing off, he turned to face me again; this time, he leaned much closer.
"Ran, I have to tell you now what I've been trying to tell you for a long time," he said, more serious than I ever remembered him being his whole life. "And I have to say it now because I lost my chance before, and—I can't afford to lose it again."
What was he saying?
He took a deep breath.
Then, ever so slowly, he reached with a trembling hand and touched my face, brushing his thumb over my lips.
I felt my pulse racing a mile a minute, the heat rising to my cheeks. Maybe—
"Ran, I—" he began, drawing even nearer.
What he's trying to tell me—
He paused and tried again, his eyes still gazing into mine. "I—I—"
"Shin'ichi—"
He came so close that I could feel his warm breath. Frightened, I lifted my hand to my cheek—but gently covered his hand with my own. As if this gave him courage, he finally came so close that his hair grazed my forehead, the tingle in my arms leaping into a thousand goose bumps. And then, when I looked into his eyes I knew that, deeper than the truth he saw within each mystery, he saw me.
"Ran, I love you."
All thought of tomorrow, of our childhood memories, of the questions and lies, of the party, of everything, disappeared.
He—loves me?
All I could think about or feel was his closeness and his warmth, while he looked at me so tenderly, demanding nothing. Blood rushed to my head, making me giddy. As I fought to control my pounding heart, I grasped the truth: even if I lost him, I never could hold back my love from Kudou Shin'ichi—and I didn't want to.
"I love you, too."
We both stared at each other for a long moment, not moving, speaking, or even breathing. Then, Shin'ichi timidly pulled me closer, ever so slowly lowering his face to mine. Just as slowly inclining my head, I welcomed his lips as, in that space where time stands still, he drew me into a gentle kiss. So sweet—so warm.
We stayed in this embrace for what I hoped would be forever.
It's alright
And I put myself in his hands
But I hold on to your secrets in white houses
Love, or something ignites in my veins
And I pray it never fades in white houses
Suddenly, he jerked away, wincing with pain. Like a clock chiming midnight in a fairy tale, this mysterious pain overwhelmed him.
"Shin'ichi!" I gasped with fear. "What's wrong?"
He gritted his teeth, fighting whatever had taken hold of him. "I've got to go—now."
"Now?" I cried. No, not again, not ever!
"Please, Ran. I'm sorry," he said, gazing at me with—longing. Somehow, it felt so familiar.
I weakly nodded. "OK."
Stumbling out of the car, I flew to the driver side window as Shin'ichi rolled it down. But as I watched Shin'ichi fumble with his seat belt, I squirmed, needing to speak before it was too late. Please, no—
"Please, Shin'ichi," I cried, rushing forward and gripping the car door, "just wait a little, or tell me what's going on—please?"
His eyes filled with the same longing as he took my hand. "If I could do that, I would."
For the first time, I believed him.
"And Ran?" he whispered.
"Yes?"
The moist wind swept around us, rustling the leaves overhead.
"I can't say how, but I'll always be there—I promise."
I wished with all my heart at that moment that I could finally make sense of what this crazy, wonderful, deducing idiot was saying. But I nodded again, anyway.
Another, even greater jolt than before passed through him and as he strained against it, he shifted the car into drive. Turning toward me again, he smiled; somehow, I knew that he smiled for my sake, not his.
"Goodbye."
That was it. Goodbye. As it was whenever he disappeared during the past two years; but this time everything was different. I loved him, needed him more than I ever did—and now I finally knew he felt the same.
He paused, waiting for me to say goodbye.
Backing away, I gave a small smile through my tears, but said nothing.
A third series of pangs racked his body; he gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles turned white. Then, he gave me one last look and drove away. Gravel and dust flew into the air as the wind blew, billowing my hair and dress. Within seconds, he was gone, and I was alone beneath the night sky.
I stared as his car vanished, my hand unconsciously flying to my mouth. He was gone, and my heart was gone. Only a hole remained, or so I thought.
My first time, hard to explain
Rush of blood, oh, and a little bit of pain
On a cloudy day, it's more common than you think
He's my first mistake
When I entered the house, still in a daze, Sonoko, Kazuha, and Heiji all ran to me; but then they stopped short and stared at the floor, each fidgeting in their own way. It was obvious that they wanted to help, but didn't know what to do.
I also realized that the song from before, White Houses, was playing again.
Jenny, who must've seen me come back inside, tripped toward us, no longer so careful about her beer. "So, Ran, who was that hot guy?" she slurred.
Forcing a smile, I didn't answer, but instead turned to the others. "Sorry guys, I think I should go home now," I chirped. "You know—big day tomorrow and all."
Sonoko, nodding, grabbed her keys without a word.
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You're probably wondering, Conan, why I'm writing to you about all this, and why I'm writing about it four years after the fact.
I've wanted to write to you, period, ever since I returned to Tokyo last month; I found out from Dr. Agasa that you returned to your parents and were no longer living with him. Thankfully, Dr. Agasa promised to make sure this gets to you. I've wanted to see how much you've grown over the years—you're about twelve now, right?
Well, I also need to know something important, or at least, to tell you something important. If I'm wrong, I'm sure you'll forgive me for being so foolish.
You may remember that at the airport the following day, you were the last one I hugged goodbye. But when I pulled away, I saw that you had the strangest look on your face. It's not that I didn't expect you to be sad, or even heartbroken; but I saw something in your face that felt familiar.
I feel so far from where I've been
So I go, and I will not be back here again
I'm gone as the day is fading on white houses
At the time, I chalked it up to your missing me and pushed it out of my thoughts. But now that I've come home, and these memories are more vivid than ever, I realize why that look in your eyes was so familiar.
Whenever you watched as I waited by the window for Shin'ichi's calls, whenever I worried about him, I noticed that soft expression on your little face. What I saw in Shin'ichi was the same longing.
So, I'm asking if you and Shin'ichi are—the same.
Believe me, I wouldn't mind getting a letter back from you going on and on about how crazy your "big sis" has become. But, if my heart is telling me the truth—Shin'ichi—I want you to know how crazy, how foolish, I really am. You see, I never took your advice: I'm still waiting for you. I never found out why you had to go, but now I know how much you hated to go.
Seeing how sad you were both that night and the next day, I wanted to tell you my side of the story—starring you, me, Heiji, Kazuha, and even Sonoko.
I lie, put my injuries all in the dust
In my heart is the five of us
In white houses
I almost regretted what happened that night, until—it's kind of funny—I realized I couldn't cry over you like I used to. At first, it seemed wrong to be unable to cry over you like a lovesick girl, but missing you was never so hard anymore.
Now I know you were right: you have always been with me. I wondered how, and when I finally understood how, it was so simple. When I gave you my heart, you gave me yours.
This is why I didn't say goodbye that night, Shin'ichi. No one was leaving.
Believe it or not, I'm actually listening to that song, White Houses, as I'm writing this. Now that I know some more English, the song reminds me even more of you.
And you, maybe you'll remember me
What I gave is yours to keep
In white houses
And so I hope this letter, if nothing else, finds you happy—because what I gave is yours to keep, in white houses.