Edited: 2020/9/14

A/N: *Shows up 13+ months later holding Starbucks*

You will not believe the amount of research I had to do for this forsaken fic (It's quite ridiculous if you ask me). I've changed the plot over five hundred times already and I can't bear to look at it anymore.

At this point the cloud theme is metaphorical because of seasonal limitations. (Arcus clouds are prone to appear in summer during thunderstorm season)

Warnings: vague writing; stalking tendencies (lol); strong one-sided (?) pining.

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Eventually, wanderlust fades.

The world passes by like a monochrome slideshow: same grayish-blue sky, different railway stations and the ever-changing scenery on a moving train's fogged window. She walks through strange cities and sits on empty park benches, worn out sneakers and a half-filled suitcase in her hand. Hopping from one station to another, she squeezes her way through crowded markets and busy festivals all across Japan. It's all red and blue and bright green patched with yellows— the world is big and suffocatingly beautiful under the summer sky.

Ayumi and the boys flood her phone with notifications every once in a while, and she sends back a picture or two of colorful landscapes and raising skylines; sometimes a shoe on gray pavement, or painted nails around an ice-cream cone. Her face, she decides, is something that they should learn to forget.

She has no place in their memories, the way Shinichi shouldn't have a place in hers.

But memories are hard to fall out of love with.

Autumn takes her by surprise, and before she knows it, winter befalls.

She finds a home in a small flat in the busy streets of Kyoto, right between a bakery and a decaying laundry service shop. Her empty suitcase fits perfectly in the back of her wardrobe, well-hidden behind the polka-dot dress that she won't wear anymore. A collection of polaroids of orange sunsets and quiet temples at noon dress up a bare white wall in her living room: pictures of people and places, a framed memory or two of every piece of herself she had to rediscover along the way of leaving her alter ego behind. On her balcony, odd patches of greenery sprout into confined wilderness. She keeps her windows open for fresh air to filter inside, and it brings a bit of the hustle and bustle of the big city into her life. It makes her feel busy, and busy is good.

Busy is what keeps her mind distracted from wandering back to memories of lost causes.

Time passes by, and her heart falls silent.

The cafe where she works at is usually quiet on Sunday mornings, and the walk through the empty streets while half of the city is still deep in slumber is a welcoming change from the matinal chaos that reigns her mornings during the busier days of the week.

Her boss —an amiable old man with forgetful tendencies and a heart of gold— greets her good morning and disappears inside the backroom before reappearing with a tray of freshly baked pastries. Shiho soon busies herself with the task of assorting them on the display case while Nakamura-san goes back into the bakery room.

The windchime tinkles, breaking the quietude of her peaceful morning, and her heart stops at the sight of the figure peeking through the half-open door.

Tall and unbearably handsome against the morning sunshine that filters through the glass windows, half of her heart stands in the doorway. He's wearing too little for the cold January weather, just a wrinkled navy blue travel jacket with a scarlet red scarf wrapped around his neck. His hands, bare at the touch of winter's mercy. Blue irises light up when they fix upon her, lips curling into a soft smile. And she swears that something flickers back in time, back to the moment when she waved him goodbye through a cab's rolled up window on a March afternoon.

Kudo Shinichi stands at her threshold —and she has no idea why.

"Kudo-kun?"

"Yo, Haibara!" Shinichi greets her, bright smile and cheeks flushed pink from the cold outside. He makes his way towards the counter right next to the cashier. "Long time no see."

"What are you doing here?"

The young detective sits leisurely on a stool right in front of her.

"I was fancying a cup of coffee."

Really.

She blinks.

"Well, obviously." Shiho deadpans, brows quirking up. Except the odds of them meeting by pure chance in this strange city are one in one hundred twenty seven million… and he's a terrible, terrible liar. "But why are you here, in Kyoto?"

"Oh, I had a case." He simply states, the smile on his face widening for no damn reason. There's no follow up comment to that, and it aggravates her.

"…Nearby here?" Shiho asks skeptically, eyes squinting.

The man averts his gaze —irrefutable proof that he's hiding something, she concludes— and proceeds to scratch the side of his cheek in a most sheepish fashion. "Uh, well… not exactly."

Again, he doesn't elaborate, and she's starting to lose her patience with this man and his impromptu reappearance in her life. He can't just do that. How rude. You don't unknowingly break someone's heart and then follow them half across the country just to have a cup of coffee at their workplace.

"There are over two hundred coffee shops in this city." And zero reasons why you should be here, she implies.

"Uh-um," Shinichi mutters, seemingly absorbed in reading a discount voucher he picked from the stack over the counter. When he looks up to her, there's a mischievous smile on his lips, "I heard you make the best macchiatos."

It's not fair, she thinks as her heart misses a beat or two. She was starting to forget about this, about him. Yet he waltzes into her life as if not a day had passed since she hopped into the Tokyo train station never to return again. He walks in, and sweeps her off her feet with a shitty half-excuse and a slightly insulting yo, Haibara; long time no see.

That's not even her real name, for crying out loud!

"You don't even like whipped cream!" Is her petty, bitter reply.

Shinichi leans over the counter to study her expression with utmost curiosity. Propping on one elbow as he rests his chin on his palm, the corner of his lips curl into a smug smirk. He takes his sweet time to reply, and she finds it beyond infuriating. In full deadpan, and what she swears is a most accurate impersonation of innocence, he asks, "…And how exactly would you know that?"

Shiho gives herself two seconds to react. Tearing her gaze away from him with a dignified twirl on her heels, she turns her back on him and grabs a cup from the rack. The coffee machine starts steaming as she warms the cup, and her words are muffled by the sizzling sound coming out of the nozzle.

"Just because you're completely oblivious to other people's likes and whatnot, doesn't mean we all are."

He seems to consider for a long second. When he speaks again, his tone is almost apologetic.

"It can't be too late to start noticing things that matter, right?"

She takes a breath before replying. "Depends on what you're looking at."

"I'm looking at you."

Shiho is caught off guard and momentarily torn between feeling like crying or laughing at his statement. Much probably the latter. It's too ironic, to say the least, that she had to be over two hundred and eighty miles out of his periphery before he decided that she's perhaps worth noticing.

Whatever.

It's not as if she ever had any expectations towards their… relationship? —he never expressed any interest in making her stay anyway. As a friend. Or a case-solving asset. Ever since she announced that she was leaving until that very last day on Agasa's porch, it was nothing but you don't have to leave's and who's gonna take care of Hakase now's?. Not once did he say he wanted her to stay by his side, or even attempted to salvage their so-called friendship. So for him to come all the way from Tokyo and stand in front of her with this little I'm looking at you act as if he wasn't ten months overdue is, in her opinion, kind of phony. And uncalled for.

(Damn Kudo and his unintentional flirting ways)

She refrains herself from replying something stupid and bitter like took you long enough.

"Are you now? Hmm." A dismissive tone. That's the best she can manage. "Is that how you found me?"

"Not quite." He admits with a wince, "I lost all track of you after that picture in Nagoya-jo. Where did you go after that? You didn't seem to follow any conventional tourist route and seasonal convenience was out of the question. I mean, who visits Ishigaki in November?"

"Someone who's prone to heat exhaustion in hot weather." She remarks pointedly.

"Oh."

"But you wouldn't remember that, would you?" Of course he wouldn't. He'd been too busy looking at somebody else to spare her a second glance. Little, unassuming things like her being ridiculously susceptible to sunburns and heat strokes in summer days should be none of his concern. For a memory to be kept, it either had to have some impact on him or be of interest.

To him, she was neither.

"Eh—"

"So," She presses, omitting whatever lame excuse he might be able to come up with. "Was it Hakase who told you?"

"I'm a detective." He has the audacity to smirk, tilted head and all. "I'm good at trailing. Give me some credit."

"Are you..." Her eyes narrow in suspicion, "Are you following me, Kudo-kun?"

"What the hell, do I look like a stalker!?" He flushes a bright shade of scarlet, his fingertips pressing against his forehead as if he could sense the start of a headache." You know what— don't answer that."

She lets out a soft sigh and, shaking her head disapprovingly, resumes working with her back turned on him.

It's quiet for a deafening minute.

"Why Kyodai, though?" He blurts out of nowhere, startling her as she reaches out for the frothing pitcher. "If you chose to stay in Japan, why not Todai which is closer to home?"

Home.

What home?

"You know, when I was in America, I did a whole year in MIT. I told you about it before, didn't I? It was quite dull and boring, being there on my own." She allows herself a sad little smile before continuing. Shinichi peers at her curiously. "And shortly after that I got transferred to Tokyo. I did another two years in Todai, actually." The strawberry blonde turns gracefully on her heels and, taking two steps at his direction, presents him a perfectly poured cup of cappuccino. "They pulled me out two years later. So see— I'm actually an undergrad."

"That can't be." Shinichi huffs incredulously. "You're too… I mean—"

"Mhmm." Her lips purse in an almost-apologetic gesture. "Some things you can't learn from library books and hall lectures. The files I was given were people's entire lifetime of research, and for better or for worse, they're gone now."

"I didn't know that." He admits. Looking at the cup of coffee —not macchiato, which causes him to roll his eyes— he can't help a chuckle. "I didn't know you excel at latte art either."

"There are many things you don't know about me, Kudo-Kun. None of which will be magically revealed before your eyes at your sudden interested."

So really, he can stop staring.

He brings the cup to his lips. "I can see that." Shinichi agrees. "Perhaps I should try my luck the old-fashioned way. That is, if you don't mind me asking? I'm most intrigued about your decision to stay here. There're a few things that I haven't been able to figure out —things that don't make sense, however I look at them. Like why is Miyano Shiho serving coffee to strangers at a cafe in Kyoto?"

"Funny that you ask that. I could think of a similar question to throw back at you."

"Ah, do you want some kind of intel exchange?"

"Hardly. Unless there's some underground conspiracy concerning this place —which I'd rather remain unaware of, thank you very much. I've had my quota of crime and dead bodies for a lifetime."

"Ah, I'm sorry that some of us are trying to keep crime rates in Japan from boosting up."

She rolls her eyes, yet the corner of her lips curl in amusement.

"Modesty is a virtue, Kudo-kun. Haven't you heard?"

He laughs wholeheartedly, and the sound gives her heart palpitations.

(Ah, it's so not fair!)

"It's hard to keep it in mind when you're not there to constantly remind me."

Read: you keep me grounded.

Shiho sighs. That's not her place or her responsibility. Why can't he ever get a grasp of that?

"You haven't changed a bit, then."

"Neither have you."

They engage in a staring contest that feels way too familiar, until Shiho throws her hands in defeat.

"If you really must know, rent won't pay itself and the current demand for evil scientists is kinda low these days." She deadpans.

He doesn't seem convinced, but alas, she admits it herself that it's a petty excuse.

"Exactly how much did you spend on your travels? Or have you found more charitable ways to spend the whole of your inheritance? It's out of character for to behave like this, Haibara."

That name again.

At this point she's honestly run out of polite ways to say I have fond memories of this country but I need to be away from you so I can finally get over you.

So she fumes. The man is aggravatingly oblivious to the situation, still.

"With all due respect Kudo-kun, that's none of your business."

He hasthe gall to look hurt. She drowns the urge to comfort him through sheer force of spite and a wounded ego.

"I thought we were a team. You and I."

Ha.

"What are you really here for, Kudo?"

"I told you. I have a case." She shoots him an incredulous look, and he sighs with resignation. "—In Osaka."

"That's an hour away!"

"Half. By shinkansen."

She arches one brow, prompting him to elaborate. She's had enough of this guessing game.

"It's a cold case and Hattori asked me to come! The prosecution time limit—"

"You know what? Save me the details. I don't want to know. And I'm not going to Osaka with you, if that's what you came to ask. I'm not your assistant anymore."

"Partner." He clarifies, visibly bothered as he skirms on his seat. "But, no. I wouldn't come all the way here just to ask you—"

She glares at him with utter disbelief, and he huffs, flustered.

"Alright, alright! I would. But I'm not going to unless you really want to come. Jeez, woman, cut me some slack! I came all the way from Tokyo just to see you."

"Ara. You shouldn't have!" She mocks heatedly. "Traveling four hundred and fifty three miles just to question my life choices at my face, that's a quite touching gesture, coming from you!"

"Haibara—"

"That's not my name, tantei-san. Would you at least have the courtesy of learning my name before addressing me? It's very rude to randomly address people like that, you know."

"Miyano— I'm sorry."

"You should probably leave." She observes, her voice impassive. "Your phone's been buzzing for a while now. You must be running rate."

"The dead can wait."

"Shame that deadlines can't."

She holds his stare, resolute to keep him away from the skeletons in her closet.

Shinichi sighs. His hand reaches inside his coat's pocket for his cellphone, and the crease on his forehead deepens as his fingers flicker through the messages.

"I should get going." He laments, standing up and going for his wallet.

"No," The scientist gestures, her fingers timidly reaching out. "It's on the house."

Shinichi beams at her with such genuine and inexplicable happiness that borderlines on silly, making her chest swell with a familiar feeling she wishes she could forget.

"Thank you." Staggering backwards as he hurries out of the cafe, the detective keeps his eyes on hers. "I'll pay you back. Um… tonight?"

"That's not—"

"Are you free for dinner?"

"You don't have—!"

"...I'll call you, ok? Don't block me!"

"Kudo-kun—"

"Later, then!"

"Wait—!"

"Oh, and—" He's already halfway through the door, unfazed by her continuous protesting. "The apron suits you, by the way!"

And with that, half of her heart walks away, leaving her confused and breathless.

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Glossary:

Arcus: a low, horizontal cloud formation associated with the leading edge of thunderstorm outflow, or occasionally with a cold front even in the absence of thunderstorms.

Ishigaki: also known as Ishigakijima, a Japanese island west of Okinawa Hontō and the second-largest island of the Yaeyama Island group.

Nagoya-jo: Nagoya Castle.

Shinkansen: Bullet train.

Kyodai: Kyoto University.

Todai: Tokyo University.

MIT: Massachusetts Institute of Technology