Notes:
Originally posted on ao3, and requested by a friend.
Shinichi always knows it's going to be a good day when Hattori comes to visit. The inevitable murder, the exclamation of his surname which is then hastily disguised as a pun, the good-natured ribbing, he can put up with any day. It's all worth it, a hundred times over, because it means a chance to be himself for once.
It's not easy living a lie, and he's sunken too deep into the role to stop now. As… irresponsible as his mom is, she's taught him how to act, and she's taught him that actors can't live their lives on stage. It's not safe, and it's not healthy. Shinichi needs these breaks, needs these escapes, and sometimes solving a crime via Kogoro isn't enough. Sometimes playing soccer until his tiny legs run out of energy isn't enough, hiding in the adult's section of the library and reading the familiar Sherlock Holmes stories isn't enough, nothing is enough and he's viciously reminded that he's not enough.
But days with Hattori? Those are more than enough.
So when he sees that familiar face while walking home from the grocery store with Ran, the first thing he does is switch his grocery bags to his other hand and tug at Ran's sweater to get her attention.
"I'm gonna go say hi to Hattori, okay?" he says, without waiting for an answer, and runs across the street, barely pausing to look both ways.
"Kudo!" Hattori exclaims, smiling broadly. "I was just on my way to your place!"
"I've told you not to call me that in public," Shinichi hisses, but there's no real bite to it. No one's around to hear it, anyways. They exchange a fist bump, and then Ran is running across the street after them, arms still full of groceries.
"Conan-kun, I told you not to cross the street without me! You could— oh, hello."
"Nice to see you again," Hattori says with a polite nod. "Hey, do you mind if I borrow the kid for today? I was thinking I'd take him out for ice cream."
"Well, I guess," Ran says slowly. "I thought you didn't like him getting in the way at crime scenes."
"Hey, I'm just concerned he's going to get stepped on! The kid's actually something of a lucky charm, and smart for his age. Too many cooks in the kitchen ain't great for the food, but if I'll be seeing him more, I figured I should do something nice, ya know?"
"And I wanna hear more about Ellery Queen!" Shinichi adds for good measure.
'Conan should have friends his age who aren't so openly antagonistic' wars with 'Conan has a friend who he seems enthusiastic to see' for a few moments more, and then she finally concedes. "Conan-kun, are you sure you're all right with that?"
"Yeah! Let's go now!" He begs, because as much as he loves Ran to the moon and back, he doesn't want to spend another minute pretending to be a kid around her. Not when Hattori is so close.
"Hey, not yet," Hattori scolds. "You shouldn't make your neechan carry all of these bags home, not when she brought you along for your help."
Oh. Right. Shinichi knows Ran is strong enough to carry all this and more by herself, and she just brought him because she's worried he'll get lonely if she leaves him home alone. Still, what about her being all alone? Shinichi realizes with another pang of guilt that now that he's removed himself from her life in almost every way she knows, Ran has been clinging to 'Conan' for companionship. He owes this much to her, and if all he can provide in this form is tagging along to the grocery store, then that's what he'll do.
"Sorry," he says, giving her a bright smile. "Can I go after we bring the groceries home?"
"Of course you can."
Hattori walks them the rest of the way home, keeping up a steady stream of conversation with Ran in his comfortingly familiar accent. Shinichi isn't paying any attention to the conversation, though. The best way he can describe this feeling he's having is... like an adrenaline rush, except calmer. He's not panicking, he's not running, but his mind has thrown the world into razor sharp focus,oversaturated and ready to start a change. He can see every detail of the passerby, from the way they hide their hands to the frayed shoelaces to the mud on the cuffs of their jeans, and yet all of this passes through his mind without meaning anything at all.
It should mean something. He needs something in his life to be meaningful, and yet it's all slipping away like the days on the calendar.
It's a relief when Hattori finally holds the door open for the two of them and Shinichi rushes inside, dumps the groceries on the table, and says something generic to Ran about coming back later. He considers every word carefully and feels them pass his lips, but remembers none of it. At this point, he's not even sure what he's doing, just that he needs to be doing something else, and he needs it yesterday.
It fades to a dull thrum as he walks away from the apartment with Hattori at his side, and he remembers how to breathe like a normal person.
"Heard your last culprit pulled a knife on you," Hattori says in a low voice. "You all right?"
"Hm?" Oh, right. He's not exactly sure how Hattori could have heard that, unless it's in the same way that Shinichi 'heard' that the man sitting on the park bench and feeding the birds just lost one of his children to illness. "Don't tell Ran about that. She thinks I just got lost the same night the murderer from the news just happened to turn himself in."
"How'd you get him to do that, huh?"
"People get scared when they see a child acting like an adult. I may have...well, it was dark, civilization was a long ways off, and people tend to believe more firmly in the supernatural when in settings that don't remind them of how far society has advanced beyond such things. He thought I was a shinigami, and I didn't deny it. He'll get a lighter sentence for cooperating, at least. Especially since the first murder was self defense rather than premeditated like the police originally thought. And attempted murder of a minor is hard if the minor refuses to testify and the culprit is convinced it was a death spirit in the body of a child."
"I gotta say, you've got a lot more faith in humanity than I do, Kudo," Hattori says, giving him a look that may be exasperation or respect. It's hard to tell. "I woulda just tried to wrestle the knife outta his hands instead. Seriously though, are you okay?"
"Yeah." He remembers a second too late that 1) he can't lie to Hattori, not with how ridiculously perceptive his fellow detective is, and 2) he has no reason to do so. "Not really. But it's not related to that."
"Anything I can do to help?"
"You already are." Shinichi's not the type to share his feelings unless he's absolutely certain of them, and it's not like he can quantify or find any precedent for this one. Disappointment, wanderlust, helplessness, frustration, loneliness, all of them skirt around the edges of the emotion like bullets that fail to hit the center of a practice target.
"Do you want to actually get ice cream?"
"Not really."
"What do you want?"
What does he want? No one seems to ask him that nowadays, they just make assumptions. "Let's find a cafe," Shinichi says slowly. "One neither of us have been to."
"Wanna take the train, then?"
"I'd rather walk." Walking is something he can do, something to burn off energy. He read once that going for a walk is the best way to circumvent fight-or-flight responses by fulfilling the requirements for flight on a technicality. And it feels nice to get outside, even if it is a little chilly.
They walk past the grocery store and keep going, past train stations and cafes and esoteric little hobby shops full of bits and bobs with strange names that Shinichi might have come across once or twice in his research. According to the book he read that mentioned this, the feeling is supposed to go away after ten minutes of walking, but his current experience is telling him that it may take longer. It's been- he checks his watch- seventeen minutes so far.
Hattori nudges him on his shoulder. "Are you cold?"
"A little," Shinichi admits. He hadn't expected to be outside this long, and hadn't thought to grab a coat. He's just wearing a light jacket, while Hattori has a coat, scarf, fingerless gloves, and his usual baseball cap. Granted, his friend probably walked at least part of the way from Osaka, but he's a lot better prepared than Shinichi. Ironic, seeing as Hattori's supposed to be the more reckless of the two.
"Here." He tugs his scarf off and hands it to Shinichi.
It feels more like a shawl on his tiny form, but Shinichi's grateful for the warmth. He settles it around his shoulders, leaving the ends hanging down in front, and sticks his hands in his pockets. "Thanks."
"Hey, what are friends for?" he says easily. "I'm not gonna let my buddy freeze out here."
"It's only ten degrees, nothing's going to freeze," he mutters.
"Yeah, but it sucks to be cold. Hey, did I tell you about the case I had last month? The culprit used a walk in fridge, feather, piece of coral, and fishing line…" He proceeds to describe a trick so convoluted, Shinichi's surprised that the culprit had chosen a life of crime rather than put his admittedly impressive mind to use elsewhere. Engineering, perhaps?
"So, how did you end up catching him?"
"The coral changed color. A little bit of the compound he used on the feather ended up slipping into the aquarium, which affected the composition of the water enough to impact the coral."
"Interesting," Shinichi notes. "He didn't try to remedy this before you saw the damning evidence?"
"No, he did. He cared so deeply for his little plot of coral, he was trying to fix it and didn't even bother to hide it when I came by asking questions. If he hadn't been so concerned for 'em, I wouldn't have researched and found out they weren't supposed to be so pale."
"His only redeeming quality led to his demise, then," Shinichi says. It's almost poetic, in a way. But mostly sad, that brilliant people with love to give would resort to taking lives. No matter how many times it happens, he's no closer to figuring out why they would do it, why anyone would cross the line and willingly violate the sanctity of human life.
"Well, at least he's behind bars now."
"Mm." He's feeling more relaxed now, away from familiar life and unfair expectations. He lowers his shoulders, letting go of tension he hadn't even realized he was holding. "I hope we're making the world safer, with what we do."
"Of course we are!" Hattori replies hotly. "Ya let a murderer go free, they'll do it again, or other people will think they can get away with it, too!"
"You're right." He pauses, staring at the sidewalk as cracks and divots pass beneath his feet. He used to be able to cross a single square in a single stride, maybe two, but now it takes him a good five steps. "I used to think the truth was more important to me than anything. Now I'm living a lie. Don't get me wrong; it's good that I care more for the people I love than my ideals. But it's got me thinking."
"About what?"
"I know there are good parts of being this size. I get to mentor the Detective Boys, and I can see closer to the ground to find clues and fit in spaces I couldn't before, and it's nice to step out of the spotlight sometimes. But I hate having to lie so much, all the time. I've seen what guilt and secrets do to criminals; I ask them to turn themselves in, but I can't come clean without putting anyone else in danger."
"At least you've got me, right?"
"I have you." A smile tugs at his lips as he remembers their first meeting, and then the subsequent and equally disastrous one that had started their friendship. "I don't remember getting a choice in the matter, though. You're too perceptive for that."
"Is that a compliment or an insult?"
"I'll let you decide." He meets Hattori's eyes, grins, and starts running.
"Hey! Get back here and explain what you mean!"
Hattori's legs are longer, true, but Shinichi has been on both sides of pursuit, and is agile enough to dodge each attempt to grab him now that he has a head start. There's another ace in his hand, too- he's got the home territory advantage.
With a carefully timed move that wouldn't be out of place at a soccer match, he slides under the bench, Hattori's fingers just barely brushing the collar of his jacket. His friend vaults over it, landing a second or two later with a thud and then continuing the chase.
Shinichi directs their path, taking rights and lefts at random until he's no longer certain where they're going. He's careful, of course; at one point he circles an entire block because he can't find a safe place to cross the street without losing ground to Hattori, and he avoids any neighborhoods that look unsafe.
It's only when he reaches a grassy knoll used for picnics in the summer that he starts to slow down, starts to observe, and then he almost laughs.
Like a dam that's finally burst, his mind is mercifully clear. He filters through the data presented, making conclusions about the neighborhood, the residents, the history, even the environment. Life makes sense again, and it's such a relief that he doesn't even mind when Hattori grabs him by the collar and demands to know what he meant.
"It was… a compliment," Shinichi says finally, out of breath and warmer than he's felt all day. He flops down on the grass, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the partially concealed sun. "I'm glad you're on my side."
"Me too, otherwise I would have thought you were possessed."
"You're too superstitious." Unbidden, the image of Hattori attempting to perform an exorcism comes to mind. "Am I really that scary?"
"Hm...I'd say at first you're all cute and innocent and tiny, then you're downright terrifying , but you're a decent guy under all that!"
"Hm." He lets himself rest there for a minute more before getting to his feet and brushing off the grass. "Well, don't tell last week's culprit."
"You got it, Kudo!"
Shinichi has to cast a furtive glance around, but they're the only ones here, everyone else hurrying about their business, too concerned with getting out of the sudden chill to listen to a pair of boys playing a childish game.
"Want to try that one?" Shinichi asks, pointing to a cafe across the street with a rather modern looking, glowing sign.
"Huh. I heard they have good scones. Let's check it out!" Hattori leads the way, forcing Shinichi to jog in order to keep up, but that's good, he thinks. Soccer training has drilled the dangers of blood clots into his mind, and he knows better than to sit for too long after a chase like that.
The bell chimes its greeting as they enter, and the two of them join the back of a rather short line. The inside of the cafe is warm, almost uncomfortably so, and it washes over him with the scent of freshly baked bread and aromatic tea leaves. It's fairly small, the sort of place that's nestled right between two high schools if the students still in their uniforms are any indication, and the perfect retreat to study or catch up with friends.
Maybe if he hadn't gotten turned into a child, he would have been doing the same thing right now, Shinichi reflects, watching two students diligently work their way through a pile of flash cards. He can see it in his mind's eye, so clearly it hurts, and he misses the life that was taken from him all over again.
But when he sees Hattori, when he remembers that being Conan gave him a second chance, a chance to make friends, to learn humility and understanding, and he thinks maybe it's not so bad after all.
"What are you going to order?" Hattori asks him.
"Coffee cake and chamomile tea." It's not a typical combination, for sure, but it's one that he wants. He hasn't drunk chamomile in a long time, not since he was first shrunk and Ran was concerned about his sleep schedule. He'd forgotten how much sleep little kids needed in comparison to teens, and it had taken him a while to adjust. Ran came to the conclusion that he was having trouble sleeping because he was worried about his parents, and decided to make him a cup of tea before bed. Chamomile helps with insomnia and stress, she told him.
Privately, he thinks that the placebo effect plays a large part in the result, but it certainly can't hurt, and he needs all the stress relief he can get.
The woman in front of them tips a handful of change into her wallet with a clatter, and Hattori moves up to the counter and places their order. He really wasn't kidding when he said he's heard good things about their scones, judging by how many he orders.
"Are you planning to eat all of those?"
"Of course not! I'm bringing 'em back home for my family. Hey, where should we sit?"
Shinichi leads him to a table along the back wall, near an artfully crumbling brick hearth that only exists to set the mood. The chair is, thankfully, the sort with bars connecting the legs, so he doesn't need any help getting seated.
"You seem a lot more relaxed," Hattori notes. "You were tensed up like a spring earlier this morning."
"I needed to get out of the house," Shinichi offers by way of explanation. At the same time, he's intrigued that Hattori seems to be a lot better than him at reading body language. Or better than the people he's used to.
"And going shopping with neechan didn't help?"
"Not exactly." Maybe it's not accurate to say he needed to escape the house so much as he needed to get away from the residents.
He's saved from further explanation by the waitress, a young woman with prematurely graying hair and flecks of paint on her arms and face, bringing their orders. The tea smells absolutely heavenly , and there's honey and sugar on the table for him to sweeten it to his liking rather than pretending not to wince at Ran's saccharine attempts to make tea a child would like. The cake is a half piece, thankfully, because he's not sure he could eat an entire piece and doesn't want to have to smuggle the remainder home. It's warm, too, the top just barely crispy.
"I'm definitely coming back," Hattori declares, half of his scone already gone. "Wow, this is good."
"Take me with you," Shinichi says between bites.
"Hey, just give me a call."
Shinichi silently resolves to hold Hattori to it. He's surprised that there isn't more of a crowd at a place like this, but some combination of the time of day and school schedules had kept it clear. Wait, no- it's the location, wasn't it? He's willing to bet that he and Hattori are the only ones who haven't been coming here regularly for months.
"What do you think she's working on?" he says, pointing to a girl with a beanie thrown sloppily over her hair. She's sitting alone with her laptop, papers spread out over the entire table.
"Essay?" Hattori guesses. "I've been there a couple times." He observes a moment longer. "No, taking guided notes. From the way her school bag is filled, she can't carry around her textbook or doesn't have one, so she's using the online version. And she's writing on printer paper, not a notebook."
"It's for chemistry. Organic chemistry, specifically."
"How can you tell?"
"Just now, she drew a series of small symbols in a box, connected them with lines, and then wrote off to the side. I'm willing to bet she's drawing molecules in bond-line notation."
"That's good ," Hattori compliments him. "What about the family across the way?"
"The daughter just had some sort of accomplishment— no, a concert, I recognize the uniform." Shinichi squints in the light, looking for calluses on her fingers. The distance is too far, but the distinct cadence she's drumming on the table is more than enough information in itself. "She plays...trumpet. The son is happy for her, but he was playing outside earlier and would rather be there. The mother is having financial troubles, but the kids don't know. Your turn."
"The couple sitting near the window, then." Hattori points them out, silhouetted in the sun. "The man is planning to propose soon. Not here, but sometime today, and he can't wait to do it. His girlfriend bought those earrings because she knows green is his favorite color, and she wants him to notice. They're probably spending the whole day together, since both are wearing practical walking shoes. He probably finds moonlight romantic and wants to propose under it, unless he's planning on waiting until sunset. But he's going to do it outside for sure."
Shinichi points out a booth with two messy-haired brunettes, a blonde, and a red haired girl. "The red haired girl has never paid for food in her life, and finds the whole experience exciting, but she's trying not to show it. The two boys are passive aggressively fighting over who's going to pay, except the dark haired one is a lot more aggressive than passive and slipped a note to one of the waiters. The messy haired girl doesn't do this much and is a little scared that the others might leave, but she's the one who brought them here, and she's glad they like it. Also, they're dating."
"Which ones?"
"All four, I think."
"People can do that?"
"Sure, if everyone involved communicates well enough. Otherwise, they start plotting to take out the third wheel in the equation or get angry when they find out they are the third wheel."
"Yeah, that gets messy," Hattori agrees. "Speaking of which, see the girl with the braid near the window, sitting across from the long haired one? The two of them realized they're being cheated on by the same guy, and they're waiting for him to show up. But the long-haired girl is having a much better time than she thought, and she has to remind herself to be angry. Those girls are going to be close friends, most likely."
There's something thrilling about it, exchanging glimpses of the hidden world they're both privy too, the one just beneath the surface of the mundane and deceitful. The truth. They play this game through two more cups of tea, until the sun hovers low on the horizon and Shinichi's starting to feel tired.
It's with great reluctance that they eventually leave behind the cafe and its little bubble of warmth to step out into the chill. Rather than waking him up, though, it just makes Shinichi feel cold and sleepy. He stays close to Hattori's side, occasionally veering off to the side only to jerk back once he realizes.
"Y'aint going to fall asleep on me, are you?" Hattori asks suspiciously.
"I hope not," he sighs. "Chamomile was a bad idea." So was staying up late last night, but surely reading Sherlock Holmes was a worthy cause.
"We're taking the train back to your place, then. If you fall asleep, I'll carry you the rest of the way."
"All right." He hopes it doesn't happen, of course, but he trusts Hattori to bring him home safely and probably not take any pictures. He's very firmly not nodding off while he walks to the train station, but it's taking all of his focus.
They sit on a bench together and wait, Shinichi pressed up against his friend's side. It's warm, and he's almost sad when the train finally pulls into the station. That means that the day is ending, and he has to go back.
Any chance of him falling asleep, however, is dashed to pieces when the train passes under a tunnel, plunging everyone inside into darkness. When it emerges, one of the passengers is lying on the floor, knife in her chest.
Shinichi knows before he checks her pulse that she's dead, and one of the passengers in this car did it.
"Guess our luck-" he begins.
"-couldn't hold out forever, huh?" Hattori sighs, and barks an order for no one to leave the compartment. Shinichi starts investigating, noting a strange marking on the victim's left thumb and a thread caught on the button of her shirt.
Some things never change.