Ran steps through the double doors, and out into freedom.
The cold wind blowing on her face feels divine after a week or so of being trapped inside that stuffy building. She doesn't take the time to enjoy it; she can't. She's still freaked out about Mr. Amuro, or Bourbon, or whatever his name really is, she's not going to lie. He said backup would be coming, and it's both lucky and unlucky that the property is outside a metropolitan area, easy enough to tell by the prevalence of trees and lack of tall buildings. Lucky because they can disappear in it, unlucky because it will take some time to get to assistance.
…If they should even go back to their friends and family. Ran swallows, throat still a little sore as she quickly veers from the paved path deep into the forest. Almost immediately she decides against that course of action. They will be after the people they love whether or not she and Shinichi are there, and it's silly to think their absence would change anything. Ai, or Sherry or whoever—and that's really, really confusing, all these names and identities—would still be in danger, and her father, and Sonoko, and Sera, and Conan—Shinichi's—young friends, anyone Bourbon had ever seen them interact with, because whether or not he let them go here has no bearing on what he can do or who he reports to.
Shinichi sounded relieved, and that is enough for her. She trusts him enough, in things like this, even if she still is a little bit wary of matters of the heart.
The farther they go in the woods, the more she feels him slipping. She keeps adjusting him, but she's sore and he's really heavy. The silence of the night is a little creepy, and it's mostly dark with only the waning crescent moon and dull stars to keep them company.
"You can take time to rest, you know," Shinichi says.
Ran knows her body. She has to. It's the purview of any athlete, any martial artist doubly so. Even though she shrank, and she's still coming to terms with the balance, range, and movement of her body, she still knows it, and because she does, she's highly aware she's at a point beyond exhaustion, beyond endurance.
She doesn't know if Shinichi feels this bone-deep lingering ache every time he changes, or it's a product of the experiments she was forced through, but it's the least of what ails her. If she stops now, she might not be able to start moving again.
And wouldn't that be something? To fail at escaping, to lose their lives when they're so close to freedom she can taste it. Even though they're outside, they're not out, not just yet.
And so she keeps moving. "I know," she says, and she attempts to sound bright and chipper, but it just comes out forced. "Do you need a coat? It's a little cold," she says. He's just out here in a shirt and a scrap of a towel. He has to be freezing. Ran has his coat and her thick coveralls, so she's fine, and she's also warm from the exercise. It's not terribly cold, about sixteen degrees Celsius, but it is cool enough to be uncomfortable.
She hears him take a breath, and then a "Yeah," reaches her ears. She pauses for a moment and digs in the bag for her light blue coat. She would give Shinichi his, but she is wearing it, and she doesn''t think she can put him down and be able to pick him back up again.
He accepts with a quiet thanks and doesn't even say anything about it being a girl's jacket, shrugging it on in an interesting balancing act. It makes something inside of her warm, and she smiles. They're wearing each other's clothes, and something about that feels special.
She really does love him. They'd do anything for each other, and that's why they have made it to this point. That's why they're alive right now. It's not that they need each other, exactly, or that love conquers all (though Ran admits she's very much a romantic and believes that it could). It's that they get each other, in ways that only two people who know each other from the inside out do. It's about knowing someone, knowing all of them, the good and the bad, the best and the worst parts of them, and loving them anyway.
And sure, they argue, and he can be irritating at times, but honestly she wouldn't have it any other way, because it's him, and it's wonderful because it is him.
A noise coming through the forest from the direction of the path has her pausing and hiding behind a tree.
"—I'm bored, Korn," she hears a whine. "When's Gin going to call to signal us?" It's a woman's voice, coming from somewhere above her. In a tree? It's coming from the direction of the path. Ran is suddenly very glad she didn't decide to take it. A rattling breath is all she hears from Shinichi, but his head is leaned against her shoulder again, and she wonders if her slow plodding hasn't made him fall asleep.
He's not doing very well at all.
"He might not," says a voice, and this is a man's deeper voice, it crackles, as if coming from a carelessly discarded two-way. Ran frowns. Shouldn't they have earbuds, or some kind of special radio? She shouldn't be able to hear him. "We're the contingency."
"Then what was the point of calling us out here? I never get to shoot anything anymore. Annoying!"
"Patience, Chianti."
"I'm going to look. He hasn't even given us an all clear or anything. Something's not right. Watch my six."
An affirmative grunt.
The truth of the matter is Gin's never going to call. Ran thanks everything she knows of that Shinichi's coat and the dark coveralls must have blended into the night, or that they weren't paying attention, or something. She takes great care to make sure her footsteps don't make a sound, even though the voice sounds like it was coming from several meters away.
It's a good thing she didn't rest as the voice moves from its high perch and down into the forest floor, close to where she'd paused for a moment. Ran doesn't run, doesn't even dare to breathe, aware that crashing through the undergrowth would be enough noise to pull their attention to her and Shinichi.
Ran instead keeps at her steady pace, maneuvering through the woods by the light of the thin crescent. The conversation fades as Korn and Chianti go into operational silence, but the last lingering word has those two heading away from them, which is good.
Ran moves farther in the opposite direction.