CoAi Christmas 2021
White Knight Syndrome
By Crystal Snowflakes
Summary: Five times he doesn't quite explain himself, and the one time she understands anyway.
Secret Santa Gift Exchange for Nem, from the CoAi Café discord server, who makes amazing CoAi art for the community :) It was such a joy to write this for you (and try to hit all the prompts that you suggested)! Hope you enjoy it 3
Prompts: Headache, Umbrella, Duty, Protect, Coffee Date
Preferred Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Ai-centric
I.
Ai cursed inwardly as Conan leaned hard on her body and let out a hiss of pain, his foot sliding forward just barely. His right hand was clutching the bullet wound in his side—it had been meant for her, and he had jumped in front of her like the idiot that he was—as blood seeped through his fingers and dripped onto the floor. He was struggling to stand upright—let alone walk—as his legs shook with exhaustion, and his body trembled with every breath he took.
Still, they pushed on, one step at a time, the sound of their shoes hitting the cement floor echoing off the narrow passageways. She helped him along while trying to be extra careful not to jostle his injuries, and she couldn't help but flinch every time he let out a painful grunt. They were going slower now, and he was panting heavily under the strain and fatigue. She knew it wouldn't be much longer until he fell over completely.
With the amount of blood loss he was experiencing, she'd give him ten—maybe fifteen—minutes until he collapsed. And she'd stay by his side no matter what happened. She owed him that much.
Her lips twisted in a grim smile as her mind drew up an image of Gin lying in his own pool of blood with a bullet to the head somewhere on the floor above them. She had accomplished what she had set out to do, and she didn't care what happened to her anymore. But…
Her eyes flickered back towards Conan, and a flood of guilt washed over her. He was in this mess because of her, and she wished now, more than ever, that he would've just let her handle Gin on her own.
Without warning, his hold on her loosened, and he crumpled onto the ground with a pained groan.
"Kudo-kun!" she screamed in a moment of panic before clenching her jaw tight, instantly regretting her lack of control the moment later. There were people searching for them, and the last thing she wanted was to let them know where they were.
"I'm fine," he said, his voice hoarse with pain.
"You're an idiot." She bent down and tried to pull him back up on his feet, but he only waved her away. With a curse and a gasp of agony, he managed to pull himself up to a sitting position.
"Haibara. You have to go," he hissed, wincing as he attempted to push her away, his body jerking in response to the twinge in his side. They were out in the open, but she had a feeling that he wasn't going to be able to pull himself behind cover. It was a race against time, and they knew that their odds were slim to none at this point; he had already exhausted his last reserves of adrenaline.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and ignored the burning sensation that started at the back of her eyes. "I'm not leaving without you," she whispered as she shook her head, her voice cracking from exhaustion and emotions.
And he just sat there, watching her with an encouraging and knowing smile plastered across his face. "Don't be stubborn."
She couldn't let it end like this. Not when he had suffered through so much because of her and had so much more to live for. They were so close to the finish line and—
"Go." The word came out, soft and quiet, but they echoed loud and clear in the empty space between them.
"I can't," she admitted.
He looked at her then. And it was filled with so much understanding that the pit of her stomach twisted. It was her fault, all of it, so how could he still look at her like that when she didn't deserve any of it? When she had done nothing but to ruin his life?
His hand reached out and took hers gently, a gesture that she didn't expect at all. And then his fingers entwined easily into hers. "You need to leave."
"I'm sorry," she murmured. And even though she meant those two words with everything she had, they felt inadequate at that very moment because she knew that the moment she made her move—made her decision—he would never forgive her.
"For what?" he asked quietly, his hands tightening briefly as his thumb ran over her knuckles before letting go.
"For this."
She let out a shaky breath before settling down next to him. Truth was, she wasn't sure how to live without him by her side. And she didn't want to find out. He took in a harsh, shocked breath, and then let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like an exasperated chuckle.
"You're an idiot."
Her eyes looked pointedly at his shirt that was now drenched with blood. "Really? You're calling me an idiot?" With a deep sigh, Ai tipped her head back against the wall as her eyes fluttered shut. "You shouldn't even have jumped in front of me. I don't even know why you keep putting yourself into these situations where—"
"I promised you," he muttered, cutting her off, and she felt his head lean against her shoulder. "I'll protect you, no matter what."
She smiled faintly; no matter how many times she'd heard him say it, it never failed to cause a warm rush of affection that threatened to overwhelm her. The silence between them was broken only by the occasional sound of gunshots from a distance; his breathing became slower and ragged, but even so, his pulse beat steadily against her ear.
Even the sudden sounds of footsteps approaching couldn't get her up.
She, too, was exhausted. Finally, she laid her head against his and murmured fondly, "You're really an idiot."
His shoulders shook with amusement. "I know."
It wasn't until a flashlight shone in her eyes and the feeling of Conan's body being separated from hers that she realized she had fallen asleep. Instantly, she flailed as she cried for him, trying to shake herself awake with little success. Her limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated, her head spun, and her throat felt as if sandpaper was being rubbed against it.
"Ai-chan! We've got you. Conan-kun is safe!" Takagi's voice echoed urgently in her ear.
At that, the edges of her vision went grey as the last bits of consciousness escaped from her.
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II.
With a huff of annoyance, Ai looked away from the windows of the school—away from the sight of the rain pelting furiously against the glass. She had been sitting with Ueda-kun since the end of the school bell had rung, attempting to help him with the most recent math concept, and it wasn't until halfway through their session that rain had begun drizzling outside. Now, it was a full on rainstorm, and all she could do was stare out blankly, mindlessly, as it continued to shower.
Normally, it wouldn't bother her all because normally, she would've had her umbrella with her. But an idiot detective had shown up early—for once—and practically dragged her out the door so that they could try out that new breakfast joint that had popped up a few blocks away from the professor's house. And of course, the one thing she had forgotten in the morning was her umbrella—one that she now sorely needed.
With a sigh, she climbed down the flight of stairs, her steps echoing in the empty stairwell. As she slid out of her indoor slippers and into her outside shoes, she heard a rhythmic thumping against the wall of the school. Was it so windy outside that it was causing the branches on the trees outside to sway loudly into the side of the building?
Slipping on her jacket and throwing her bag over her shoulders, she readied herself for a miserable walk; she had no doubt that she would be soaking wet and cold by the time she got home.
With a push, she opened the entrance of the school and breathed in the air. An icy draught blew and ruffled her hair, blowing strands into her eyes, and she swiped them away with annoyance. The same steady thudding continued, and out of curiosity, her eyes followed along where the sound had been coming from—
"Oi, Haibara."
She blinked, staring, the sight in front of her not quite registering in her mind. Conan was in his school uniform, his own bag and umbrella leaning against the wall, a soccer ball under his foot. It took her a second to realize that the constant pounding against the building had been him.
"...What are you doing here?"
His brows furrowed, as if confused by her question, before he kicked the ball up and juggled it. "In case you forgot, we go to the same school—"
"That's not what I meant, and you know it," she said with a lift of her eyebrow.
His gaze flickered from the ball to her, and he stared back at her with slightly narrowed eyes. "You don't have an umbrella, right?"
His question hit her like a truck. She hated it—how much he cared, how considerate he always was, how easy it was to continue being in love with him. If only she could control her own feelings, and stop because she didn't deserve him—would never deserve him. Heat rose to her cheeks, and she ignored it, forcing it down before pressing her lips in a thin line instead. "I'd ask you how you knew, but—"
He turned away, swinging his backpack on before grabbing his navy umbrella and opened it, motioning for her to join him under it. "It wasn't supposed to rain today, so I figured—"
"You're such a stalker."
Indignation crossed his face for a fraction of a second before he rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered, holding the umbrella closer towards her.
This time, she felt flush. "Thanks, but you didn't—"
His face relaxed, and he held the umbrella over their heads as they began their trek home. "That's what friends are for, right?"
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III.
She was too tired to move.
Her head pounded, the throbbing pulsing through her skull, and she felt like the pain was threatening to drive her into insanity. She tried to focus on anything but the bright sunlight streaming through the windows that were assaulting her eyes. For half a second, she debated on standing up to close the blinds; unfortunately, that thought made her feel sick and dizzy, and she settled on leaning back onto her pillow and curling into her blankets instead.
As if that wasn't enough, her phone had been continuously buzzing against the table next to her for what seemed like hours. It was nonstop, and she cursed whoever it was that was continuing to call or text her.
Eventually, the incessant buzz became too painful to stand and after several unsuccessful attempts, she groaned when her hand finally found its way onto the phone that was sitting precariously atop a pile of magazines. Pulling the phone towards her, she glared down at it and tried to ignore how much her vision wavered as she did.
Kudo.
"Stop calling," she rasped into the phone before hanging up and tossing it beside her on the mattress. Her throat ached from dehydration, and all she wanted to do was to rest.
Stubbornly, she closed her eyes. Lucky for her, it didn't take too long for her to feel herself slowly drifting deeper and deeper off to sleep as the world gradually slipped into darkness.
It was the sound of her window blinds closing that woke her up. Her vision blurred slightly as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes, and it took a few moments for her brain to realize where she was. And that someone was in her room. Heart pounding wildly against her chest, she scrambled off the bed, attempting to stand up before a gentle hand on her shoulder slowed her. She stopped short, breathing heavy as she glanced up.
"It's me." Conan met her gaze, and she could make out blue eyes and reassuring grin in the dimness of the room. His expression remained calm as he watched her, waiting patiently for a response.
She took a few long breaths before exhaling shakily. "What time is it?"
"Just after two," he responded, reaching down to touch her forehead, the back of his hand warm against her skin. He didn't seem to notice when he left goosebumps behind with his touch. Her brain was working too slowly, and it took her more than it usually would to realize that he must've skipped the rest of his afternoon classes to come. "Fever, huh? How are you feeling?"
"Like I got run over by a truck," she replied, sagging back against her pillows.
"I got you soup. And maybe you can take some meds to help with the fever," he suggested as a look of concern flitted across his face.
She made an unintelligible sound as she closed her eyes, turned around, and huddled back into the comfort of her bed.
"I'll be downstairs." She heard his footsteps retreating and the door slowly close.
"Why are you so nice to me, Kudo-kun?" she murmured, more to herself than anything.
The door stopped creaking. A pause. "Because you're important to me."
Despite the chill she felt, her cheeks flooded with warmth. How was it that he always managed to surprise her with things like these? His words resonated through her mind, and she was so, so glad that she had her back turned to him.
A light thud told her that the bedroom door had shut softly behind her.
She let out a small breath.
"Idiot."
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IV.
"This is the last time I ever take you on errands," Ai hissed into his ears, her hands gripping the back of his hoodie.
The both of them had been lining up, waiting for a teller, when Conan had abruptly dragged her out of line and towards the most inconspicuous corner of the bank. She suspected that he must have seen something that put him on edge because she didn't even have time to register what was happening before she had been yanked backwards, his back pressed tightly against her as he carefully positioned his body in front of hers.
And then gunshots had begun echoing throughout the bank.
Even though she couldn't see his eyes, it didn't take her much to figure out that his gaze was wandering around the bank, his senses on high alert as he tried to make sense of the situation around them, all the while searching for an escape route.
His breathing wasn't so steady, but it was normal enough, and when he spoke again, there was an undertone of tension in his tone. "It's not a regular robbery," he whispered, just barely loud enough for her to hear. "They've got guns. And backup."
Her eyes flickered past his shoulder, and she studied the way the burglars carried themselves. She could believe it. They seemed entirely too calm and professional for a regular group of robbers, and the ones who were nervous were collecting the cash from the tellers.
As if wanting to prove them right, a couple of the masked gunmen, along with the bank manager, walked towards the back of the bank where the safety deposit boxes were.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, her fingers tightening, bunching the fabric up in her palms.
His muscles tensed, but she could feel him forcing himself to appear relaxed; she wasn't sure if the act was for her benefit to reassure her, or for the robbers so that they wouldn't suspect anything.
"Nothing," he murmured, though his face was still turned away from her.
"Nothing?" she echoed in disbelief. It wasn't like him to stand around and wait to be rescued. He was the type to jump into action without even thinking about his own safety—without considering just how much danger he was putting himself and the people around him in.
"I've already called the police," he admitted, nodding downwards, as her gaze caught the sight of his phone in his hands.
"But…?" she trailed off, waiting for him to explain himself. She knew him well enough by now that there must have been another reason they were waiting for the police to arrive rather than to take things into their own hands. Without trying, she felt the taut muscles on his back and sensed the tension coiled inside him.
"I can't leave you here in the open. And I promised to protect you."
A shaky breath escaped her. It had been years and years since she had last heard him utter those same words because ever since the fall of the Black Organization, there had been so little opportunities for them to be reckless. As a matter of fact, she had a strong suspicion that he had learned from his mistake and had tried to stray away from as many truly dangerous situations as he could; he still got a thrill from solving cases and helping people, but their lives were definitely not as exciting as they used to be.
The very frequent corpses that fell around them were as much excitement as they got most days.
"You don't have to keep your promise forever, you know," she whispered as she tilted her head forward, her face against his back. Even if, one day, he decided he didn't want to keep his promise anymore, she would never blame him.
"I know." His voice was soft, but strained. "But I want to."
It wasn't a good idea to read too deeply into his words—especially since they were in the middle of a bank robbery—but it seemed like there was some sort of meaning behind them that she couldn't quite decipher. Nonetheless, her lips twitched upwards in response, and she couldn't stop herself from asking. "Why?"
"...I just do, okay?" The tips of his ears had turned red as he blatantly avoided her gaze, and while she wanted to continue to push, it really wasn't the right time.
Maybe another day, when they weren't in imminent danger—when her heart wasn't jumping to her throat.
That didn't mean she wasn't going to tease him though. "White knight syndrome, huh?"
"Shut up."
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V.
The swings creaked under Ai's weight as she swung back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The breeze whipped through her hair, her hands cold against the chains, but she didn't want to stop; there was something comforting about the repetitive motion, the cadence of the clanking chains, and the gentle swaying of the ground beneath her feet.
Mindlessly, her eyes studied the children running after each other, the people walking by on the street, the passing cars on the road outside the park; the sun descended slowly over the horizon, tinting the world in hues of red and gold. Even in the midst of the crowd with all the noise around her, it felt like it was just her and the swing—like only the two of them existed in this one moment.
Her thoughts wandered to her family; she wondered if they ever had the chance to go to the parks or take a leisure stroll together when they were much younger. Despite not having seen their faces in years, she sometimes had fleeting memories that stuck with her for no apparent reason—her mother's solemn face as she stared out the window, her father's frown as he talked on the phone, Akemi's smile as she stared at her with bright-eyed interest across the table.
It was only the sound of footsteps approaching from behind her that brought her out of her thoughts. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Without a word, Conan sat on the empty swing next to her, his long legs sprawled out in front of him, and held out a cup of coffee. Her shoes scraped against the ground as she slowed down, spitting wood chips over their feet. Before she could ask how he knew where to find her, her eyes flickered towards the cup, and the question died in her throat. The coffee was from the shop that she and Akemi used to visit regularly, and it was only just half a block away. He must have figured it out somehow, and deducted that she'd be here.
Sometimes, his intelligence annoyed her even though it was one of the things she was in love with. She took the paper cup from his hands.
"I was worried when you didn't show up to school," he said, taking a sip of his own drink.
She shrugged, careful not to meet his gaze. There was no question that he knew why she was here, and she didn't know what to say in response. She could feel the heat of his stare burning into the side of her head, and instead of looking at him, she busied herself with the steaming cup of coffee. The aroma of the dark roast was thick and rich, filling the cold air with its scent. She took a deep breath through her nose, relishing the familiarity of the sweet, bitter smell before taking a sip; it burned the back of her throat.
It had been over ten years since she had seen Akemi's face, over ten years since they last spoke, and over ten years since she felt like her world had exploded in a million pieces and left her feeling hollow. And the longer it had been, the more she realized that she was forgetting the sound of her voice, the feel of her arms around her, the radiance of her smile.
"Why are you here, Kudo-kun?" she finally asked, her gaze flickering over to his.
It was a loaded question, and they both knew it. There was no doubt that he could hear all the other questions inside her head—questions she would never allow to come to the surface, questions she would never dare ask aloud. And yet…
He gave her an odd look, almost as if he was exasperated with her line of questioning, and she turned away. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked, his voice flat, and she saw in the corner of her eye that he spun his head to stare straight ahead. "You're important to me, Haibara."
Her stomach flipped, and she tried hard not to blush—it was almost impossible to ignore the way those words always made her feel. Somewhere deep inside, she had always known because it wasn't the first time he'd told her, but still, hearing those words again still surprised her.
The idiot.
Still, she couldn't help but ask. "Why?"
His shoulders slumped, almost as if he had the weight of the world on them. Silence hung between them, lingering before he let out a long sigh and turned his gaze back to her for the briefest moment. He looked thoughtful, as if he was carefully measuring his words. When he finally spoke, he did so quietly—almost in a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to be overheard. His gaze never wavered as his fingers twisted themselves together.
"...You're one of the few who still call me by my real name."
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VI.
Ai stirred her coffee slowly—out of force of habit more than anything else—as her gaze trailed the hundreds of small golden lights strung up throughout the entire ceiling of the coffee shop, a faint smile spreading across her face. Soft Christmas music filtered through the space as she took small deliberate sips of her drink that had cooled down. There wasn't much left in the cup, and she knew she was just prolonging her stay at the café; there was only twelve minutes until they were closed—only twelve minutes until she had to make her way back to an empty home.
The problem was that there was nothing better for her to do on Christmas evening. The professor was spending the holidays with Fusae at a hot spring resort—as friends, he had insisted—and Ai didn't care so long as he was happy. Ayumi was going to be spending the next week on vacation with her family, Genta was helping his father at the family liquor store, and Mitsuhiko was attending a family gathering. And all that was left was—
Her phone buzzed on the table, rattling against the wood surface as her fingers wrapped around it. She hadn't been expecting a call, and out of curiosity, she stared down at the bright screen. With a scoff, her lips curved in amusement, or maybe exasperation—at this point, she wasn't really sure anymore.
It was Conan.
Without even picking up, she could guess the reason for the call. Most likely, he had run into a crime scene during the yearly extravagant Suzuki Christmas party that he had been dragged into by Ran. And now, he was calling her for help because he needed a particular set of knowledge she had that he didn't. That, or he called to bounce ideas off of her.
Well, she wasn't in the mood. Not tonight anyway.
Christmas had never been easy for her; everyone was with family—not that she blamed them for doing so—but she couldn't remember the last time she had spent a normal Christmas day with her own family. It was days like this that reminded her that it had been more than a full decade since she even had any family—that she really was truly alone.
Draining the rest of her coffee in a single gulp, she set the mug down before she stood up and wrapped her scarf around her neck. The warmth of the jacket engulfed her immediately once she pushed her arms through the sleeves.
As soon as she took a step out the door, the chill in the air turned her breaths into wispy clouds, and she pulled her cashmere scarf closer around her shoulders. It was a beautiful night, and the sky was clear and filled with stars. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. It smelled like freshly fallen snow—she could almost taste the snow on the tip of her tongue—and not for the first time this winter, she wondered whether it would be snowing soon.
Opening her eyes, she glanced towards the Christmas decorations that littered the streets and hung on store windows. They were beautiful and colourful—garlands of tinsels, strings of baubles, strands of lights—and they all glistened under the glow of the street lights. It was hard to stay sombre with the twinkling lights reflecting in her eyes.
With a soft smile and the breeze caressing her face, she decided then that she'd go for a walk before heading home.
Despite the cold, it really was a beautiful evening.
She strolled without a destination in mind, and it wasn't until she reached the decorated Christmas tree at the center of the city—brightly lit and trimmed in red and gold—that she stopped. There were crowds of people milling around and taking pictures of it and with it.
And there she stood, admiring its height and beauty.
The sudden feeling of a hand on her shoulder brought her out of her daze, and she turned around, shrugging the offending hand off of her. It was the last person she had expected to see, and yet, at the same time, she wasn't at all surprised he had shown up out of nowhere.
There he was, standing in front of her—the person who never failed to show up at her side.
Conan's black coat hugged his frame just right and made him look taller than he really was; it never failed to annoy her that she was the one who had to look up at him now. Still, despite her exasperation, she couldn't stop the familiar way her heart fluttered in her chest.
"Just because I agreed to a tracking device on my phone doesn't mean I agreed to be stalked," she said wryly.
His eyes shone bright blue behind his glasses, concern clear in his eyes. Even then, he shot a flat glare at her while his lips curled downwards, his breathing heavy. "You weren't answering your phone," he accused, sounding almost out of breath, almost as if he had run a long distance to get to her.
"And did it ever occur to you that I didn't want to answer?" she countered, arching an eyebrow at him.
He huffed impatiently and crossed his arms over his chest before giving her a knowing look. She, on the other hand, ignored his reaction altogether and turned back around to look up at the tree. A long, deep sigh escaped from him before his fingers caught the crook of her elbow, and he stepped up next to her.
When she finally glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, she found him staring at the tree as well.
They fell in a companionable yet slightly tense silence—the kind where they both knew what the other person was thinking, the kind where they both knew that the other person had a point, but neither of them were willing to apologize because neither of them were entirely wrong. She understood why he panicked; she definitely could've sent a text his way to let him know she wasn't in the mood to talk. And he definitely shouldn't have dropped everything and ran to her because she didn't pick up her phone.
A few minutes later, when he finally spoke, his voice sounded much calmer. "Just pick up next time." His grip tightened on her elbow, almost as if he was afraid she might try to escape. Even though they'd been in so many dangerous situations together, she knew he'd never stop being concerned about her safety,
Just like she was concerned about his.
"Fine," she acquiesced. There was another moment of quiet before she turned towards him slightly and added, "but only if you stop chasing after me when I need time by myself." Her tone held no heat, only a faint amusement. He gave a slight chuckle, one of those soft ones he made, and though she knew it was aimed more for himself than her, she couldn't stop her stomach from twisting in her gut.
"I can't help it. When I thought you might've been in danger again…" he trailed off, the words were spoken just loud enough for her to hear without actually having to turn towards him, but low enough so that nobody else around them would be able to hear. "Like I said before, you're important to me."
Her face flushed when she felt his eyes on her, and she shook her head before she forced herself to meet his gaze. "You shouldn't worry so much."
"Can't help it," he admitted, swallowing hard and looking away. It was too late though; she caught the indecipherable look on his face, and she knew at once that she wouldn't be able to let it go.
Maybe it was the festive mood, or the way the golden light, or the way he looked so damn uncertain. But she sighed deeply before moving in closer, close enough that their shoulders brushed against each other. "You're an idiot."
She watched as his lips tugged into a smile, and his gaze returned to hers. Despite her hardest, she couldn't stop her lips from curving upwards either. And then he let go of her elbow, wrapping it around her shoulder and pulled her closer.
In response, she tilted her head against his shoulder.
They stood like that for several moments, simply enjoying the feel of each other, the sound of the music fading into the background noise as she breathed in his familiar scent. It was peaceful and comforting, just the two of them standing there, content in each other's company. And when his lips brushed against the top of her head, she felt her heart nearly leap to her throat.
His breath wavered slightly as he exhaled, slowly. "Is this okay?"
She nodded her head against his shoulder as she smiled to herself, basking in the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. "Merry Christmas, Kudo-kun."
He pressed another kiss atop her head. "Merry Christmas."
Author's Notes: Happy Holidays & Merry Christmas, everyone!
Completed: November 4, 2021