Title: The Flip Side of Estrangement
Author: RanMouri82
Pairing: Kudou Shin'ichi and Mouri Ran
Fandom: Detective Conan
Theme: #4 – our distance and that person
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Detective Conan is pwned by Aoyama Gosho. I only admire his l33t skillz. (Published 6/6/2007)

The Flip Side of Estrangement

Mouri Ran rubbed the bags beneath her eyes and blinked at the increasingly blurry computer screen. Yet another divorce case displayed itself in black and white as she scrolled down, detailing drunkenness, skirt chasing, and a laundry list of other offenses. The dying sun caught Beika's skyline in its orange flame, casting a striped shadow through the law office's Venetian blinds and exposing each particle of dust to Ran's tired sight. Just as her subconscious began to sift and blend the relief and regret over her own marital choices, her IP phone's intercom crackled.

"Mouri-san?" her young, somewhat nervous secretary named Miyu asked, "It's your husband. Can I put him through?"

Ran sighed and pinched her sinuses, rubbing them to no effect. "Yes, go ahead."

It was not that she hated Kudou Shin'ichi. She could never go so far as to hate her first love, husband, and the father of her only child. She just refused to wait on him anymore—or forgive him. Picking up the receiver, Ran did not bother hiding her weariness or irritation as she said, "Moshi moshi."

"Hey, Ran," replied Shin'ichi, sounding similarly annoyed. "Can you do me a favor?"

Ran rolled her eyes. This was so like him: inconsiderate as ever. "Depends. What do you want?"

"Have you seen our daughter lately?" Shin'ichi continued, dropping his voice with a confidential tone.

Quirking a smile, Ran silently marveled at how her brilliant detective could be so thick. "Unless your nose has been stuck in a Holmes novel all this time, you should've seen her first."

"That's not what I mean," Shin'ichi growled. Ran could hear some shuffling in the background, which sounded suspiciously like Shin'ichi was clearing away said mystery novels to find a lighter and stale cigarette. "If she hasn't dropped by your office yet, she will," he said, through muffled lips and flint scrapes. "Knowing her, she'll try to get permission from you to meet that person."

"Meet someone?" Now Ran's interest was piqued. Sliding her free hand toward a pad and pen, she prepared to jot a note for herself just in case. "Dear, is she in trouble?"

"Yeah. She's been asked out on a date," Shin'ichi continued, dropping his voice even lower though Ran knew no one else could be in the Kudou Detective Agency at that hour, "by that brat Kogorou."

Puffing her cheeks, Ran could hardly contain her laughter. "Um, you do know," Ran said, letting her chuckles sneak through, "that he's her classmate, not a subsidized date?"

"Of course I know, idiot!" Shin'ichi spat, lancing Ran's eardrum. "But he's a slacker who skips class, stays out late playing mah-jong, turns out barely passing grades, and then has the nerve to play detective without any clear method. If Inspector Megure accepts him as an officer after graduation, he should be ashamed of himself." With a grunt, he seemed to flop into his squeaky, old swivel chair before muttering, "I should've known you wouldn't take Eri's future seriously."

That cut Ran to the heart.

"Excuse me?" she yelled into the receiver. "How dare you accuse or lecture me on caring for the future of my loved ones, you hypocrite!"

Suddenly, the door flew open and a school satchel slumped to the ground, revealing a tall, teenage girl who blinked in surprise. The perkiness of her thick, brown ponytail offset her Teitan uniform and the conservative pair of glasses that engulfed her face. "Mom!"

"Oh, h-hi Eri!" Ran chirped, blushing. Cupping the receiver, Ran hissed, "Don't you think this is over, you detective geek." Hanging up, she gave her daughter a bright smile, smoothing her hair and lapels as if that would mask the tirade she had just spewed. "How's everything?"

But Eri narrowed her gaze and frowned. "That was Dad, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Ran admitted, weakly. Pulling a seat behind her desk for Eri, she added, "He told me about your being asked out."

"I knew it," Eri said with a pout as she dropped into the green leather chair. Holding a hand above her eyes to shield them from the bright sunset, she sighed. "I don't know why he won't just give Kogorou a chance!"

"Well, if what your father says is true, he might need to pick up his studies a little," Ran began, crossing her legs after swiveling to face Eri, "but didn't you say he's in the Judo club?"

"Right!" Eri said, nodding emphatically. Then, she bit her lip and glanced away. "He hasn't won any tournaments—or matches, but—"

Ran reached forward to pat her daughter's shoulder and offer a gentle smile. "Don't worry. I know that's not what matters most." Pausing a moment to consider Eri's grateful look, she frowned and asked, "He does care for you, doesn't he? Does he treat you well?"

"Of course, Mom!" Eri cried out, clasping her hands in supplication as if all her hopes rode on what Ran might say next. Then, spreading them over her pleated skirt, she looked down and murmured with a small smile, "Sure, he's been teasing me since we were kids, he drives our teachers crazy, and he likes mah-jong way too much, but he's always been there for me and he—he cares for me like I care for him. Like I'm the only one." Taking a deep breath, Eri faced Ran again, letting that hope in her watery blue eyes shine and letting those words sink into her mother's heart.

"Eri," Ran breathed, understanding her completely. Didn't I look like her once? Shaking her head, she also took a deep breath before answering, "You know you're too young."

Eri shot to her feet and pulled away from Ran as if stung. "But you and Dad married young!"

Ran rose to her feet, too, and crossed her arms with all the authority she could muster. "All the more reason!"

Silence fell between them, but Ran's stern exterior crumbled and gave way as her daughter's chin trembled and tears spilled over her cheeks. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she looked so heartbroken whenever she cried, not that it mattered as she neared her fourth decade of life.

All of a sudden, through wet lips, Eri whispered, "Why did you marry Dad?"

Even after ten years of separation, Ran felt the old lump rise in her throat at the thought of him. "You want to know the truth?"

Eri paused, then nodded. The sun continued to set between them like a judge between the two generations.

"For the same reasons as yours," Ran replied, with a sad smile, "but with minor differences."

"You still love him, don't you Mom?" Eri asked with no small wonder, eying her mother and analyzing her like Ran knew only the daughter of the modern day Sherlock Holmes could. Gaining no response, Eri demanded, "Then why did you leave him?"

Ran gasped, anger churning inside her stomach. "You mean he never told you?"

Turning on her heel, Ran hid her face with all its distortions of fury as she stomped on the plush carpet toward a bookcase decorated with several photographs: her parents, in matching uniforms, posing with their coworkers in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, herself and Shin'ichi pushing baby Eri in a stroller at Tropical Land, and even a high school picture of their class's cultural festival play, with Ran dressed as a princess being saved by Shin'ichi, her knight—a picture she only kept because, as she said, that was her only lead role. Then, Ran laughed bitterly. "Why am I so surprised? He waited ten years to tell me."

"Ten years?" said Eri, taking tentative steps toward Ran. "To tell you what?"

Ran squeezed her eyes shut and turned around. She knew she could not hide the tears that blurred her vision, but by then, she felt too tired to care. "Eri, your father had some trouble when we were still in high school." She edged toward the leather chair Eri had abandoned and touched it, hoping Eri would understand and sit down.

Ever the obedient daughter, Eri swallowed hard and sat, not saying another word until Ran continued.

"One day, in our second year at Teitan—as you are in now," Ran began, scarcely believing it all happened that long ago, "your father took me to Tropical Land as a reward for winning the prefectural karate championship."

Eri nodded. The trophy still stood, somewhat tarnished, in a display case in Ran's high rise apartment.

"Well, right as we were leaving a case your father solved on one of the roller coasters, he told me to head home, then dashed into the shadows of the amusement park and never came back. Of course, he did eventually," Ran added, throwing up her hands in frustration at trying to explain what, in her mind, remained unexplainable, "but not until two years later, after a string of phone calls and a few visits that always began with him popping up out of nowhere and ended with him running off without a word."

Opening her mouth, Eri hesitated before saying, "I don't understand. Was Dad investigating something? He was already a detective, right?"

"That's the strangest part of all, sweetie," Ran murmured, half to herself, as she stopped to gaze through the dimmed blinds into a scarlet-stained dusk. Residential apartments in the surrounding area began to flash bright, golden lights of welcome as night approached. "That was exactly what he told me every time he called. I would have been content to believe him, no matter how much I missed him, though this was before I admitted my feelings for him," Ran said, with a mild laugh. Then, battling tears and the persistent lump in her throat, she whispered, "If only there hadn't been Conan."

"Conan?" Eri echoed. "You mean, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? I know Dad's kind of obsessed with him, but—"

Ran leaned against the window frame and shook her head. "Then you're much smarter than I was at your age. I wish I could've made that connection sooner. If I did, your father might not have been able to fool me about Conan for all those years."

"Wait a minute!" Eri gasped, climbing onto her knees and perching her chin on the chair's tall back, much like Ran recalled her doing as a child. Blushing, she squeaked, "Y-you don't mean you left Dad for this Conan?"

"Oh, quite the opposite," Ran spat as she started pacing the room and drawing deeper breaths. "Edogawa Conan was a little boy who showed up with Professor Agasa in your father's library—the one we used to have until he sold the house—the night that your father ran away. I agreed with the professor to be the boy's guardian until his parents returned from the hospital. Long story short," Ran said, with a tight smile, "that boy was actually your father, shrunk by a criminal syndicate's experimental poison into child size."

"Uh, come again?" Eri asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Sounds crazy, doesn't it?" Ran said, crossing her arms as a single tear escaped and fell onto her woolen suit sleeve. "But as the days wore on with Conan living beside me and your grandparents, I could see your father in every move he made. Heck," Ran cried, throwing up her arms yet again, "he wouldn't even leave murdered corpses alone!" After winding her way around the office, she slid back into her chair. "I loved your father so much, but he fooled me every single day, taking advantage of your grandparents' positions as high-ranking police detectives to investigate this syndicate. Worst of all, he returned as good as new and continued to feed me that lie."

Giving her daughter a hard stare, she said, "And I trusted him. And married him. And six years after I gave birth to you, the only good thing that man ever gave me," she concluded, rolling her eyes, "he told me the truth, saying he did it to protect me. For ten years? I doubt it."

"So you mean if I ask Dad, he'll tell me the same story?" Eri murmured, reflecting the look of innocent disbelief Ran was certain she once had when Shin'ichi told her.

"I hope so," Ran muttered. "Since he did that, I stopped understanding him at all."

Palpable silence descended between the two women. Though Ran's anger simmered and boiled within her as if she had walked out the door of the Kudou mansion yesterday, she gauged her daughter's reaction with care. For several minutes Eri sat, absorbed in thought with her hands upon her knees, but then she bolted upright in her seat and blushed, setting her jaw in determination. "Mom? This might not mean much, but Dad still loves you, too."

A flutter rose in the depths of Ran's heart, but she ignored it and stuck her nose in the air. "I'm sure he thinks he does."

"But didn't he get you those chocolates you liked for White Day?" Eri asked, clapping with pleasure and peeking sidelong at her mother—who remained cold as ice. "Even though you didn't give him chocolate for Valentine's Day? That's got to be love!"

At this, Ran crossed her arms and gave Eri a teasing grin. "Something you put him up to, no doubt, telling him it was for one of his many fangirls."

"Mom," Eri moaned, jumping to her feet in exasperation. She crossed the room and, stopping beside the door, bent to pick up the strap of her satchel. "You and Dad are so stubborn!"

"Hmm, maybe so," Ran murmured, rubbing the golden ring she still wore on her third finger. A thought crossed her mind. "Oh, Eri?"

Eri paused by the door, her ponytail swaying behind her. "Yes?"

"Although it would do you good to stay away from childhood friends and detectives, it's fine with me if you go out with Kogorou-kun," Ran said, watching the joy burst across Eri's features like fireworks. Curving her mouth into a self satisfied smile, she added, "That is, if you don't mind my driving your father a little crazy."

"Have you seen him lately?" Eri giggled, flushed and practically skipping with happiness. She tossed her satchel over her shoulder and said, "He already is crazy. Just come home, Mom." And she shut the door.

Left alone in the darkened office, Ran found herself with two choices: turn on the garish florescent lights and stay awhile or call it a day and head home. With such a draining conversation behind her, she tapped her chin and thought, Definitely option #2. Opening a desk drawer and fumbling for her purse, her nails scraped against a hard, cylindrical object. Without looking, she remembered what it was, but she unconsciously withdrew the pottery she once made as a teenager and flipped it over to read the underside: I'll be waiting.

Huffing and blowing her bangs from her face, she shoved the cup back into the drawer and muttered, "Don't know why I keep that thing at all, let alone here—"

"Um, Mouri-san?" spoke Miyu's voice as she cracked open the door and poked her head inside. The girl resembled a pixie with her cropped brown hair and petite figure, attributes that made her quite the friendly messenger whenever her mood was confident. "I was going to leave this message behind for you, but since you're still here . . . ." When Ran met her by the door, Miyu passed her a yellow stickie note, then asked, "I hope that's alright?"

Taking the note, Ran reached for her coat on a nearby polished rack, flipped the overhead light switch, scanned the message—and gasped.

Sorry for that, Ran. Love, Shin'ichi

Suppressing the urge to tear the note or crumple it—How cheap! He could've called my cell phone later or written it himself instead of dictating to Miyu. And how dare he think this is enough to make up for—Ran neatly folded the paper and tucked it into her purse. After all, it was not everyday that he made an effort to come halfway, and the same could be said of her. Glancing at the picture of the school play, Ran remembered how Shin'ichi had masked his face at the time, hiding himself from her longing heart as he hid his face from Princess Heart; foremost in her memory, however, was how they had come close to sharing their first kiss. And she really missed kissing him.

Maybe she would come home someday. Maybe, Ran thought, with a giggle, if he begged a little harder.

It goes without saying that Detective Kogorou would have been a different series altogether, so I settled on switching roles and adapting personal histories while striving to maintain character. This story was partly inspired by this page from my Mad Libs calendar:

"Items From A Gossip Column: Mouri Ran (name of person, female) and her ex-husband, Kudou Shin'ichi (name of person, male), were seen last night at the Twenty-Three club holding cookies (plural noun). Could it be a reconciliation?"

And that was #10! Or 1/3! Thanks for sticking with me this far!