Edit: 2020/9/15
Fractus: Small, ragged cloud fragments that form or have broken off from a larger cloud and have a jagged, shredded appearance. They change constantly, often forming and dissipating rapidly, and do not have clearly defined bases.
A/N: [sighs in spanish] I debated for a long time whether I should post this chapter now or wait until I have the final chapter finished. I've been going back and forth on my decision on how to end this fic, and I can't say it's fully thought out, but my vision hasn't changed much from the original idea. I know yearly + updates are ridiculous but thank you for bearing with me. Your support means a lot to me.
On another news, we're doing CoAi week again this year! Personally I'm not sure I'll be able to participate but if you're interested you can check coai-week on tumblr or hit me up if you want to join our Discord server.
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She tells him about the pictures he saw on Ayumi's phone and Japan's indomitable summer, about a life as simple as it's supposed to be when hardships are nothing more than essay deadlines and rush hours at work. Shinichi listens with a kind of heartfeltness that feels all too new to her, and despite her efforts not to be touched by basic cordial gestures, she can't help that she is. He somehow still manages, through time and distance, to bring out the part of herself that's easily forgiving. They talk about everything and nothing at all, laughing between half-jokes and backhanded compliments, holding on to the remains of what they used to be while immersed in a feeling of estranged familiarity. He finds a stranger in the skin of the girl he's been looking for, a new someone with a newfound liking for simpler things in life. He takes it all in —from her rekindled love for science to her new affinity for morning walks, marveled that against all odds, peace suits her really well.
Shinichi comes and goes the following weeks, walking into her little coffee shop with his repertoire of soft smiles and poorly-thought-out excuses. Sometimes, he'd stay long enough to make small talk, to tell her of places and people that to her seem to have happened a lifetime ago. Mostly, he'd come to say goodbye.
(She asks herself why she keeps letting him.)
Shiho finds his newfound earnestness to fill her in with every minuscule detail of his life a little too much too late, his flailing attempts of mending a relationship that never existed, beyond laughable.
"You have to stop showing up like this." She tells him one late night when he barely makes it before her closing hours. Faint traces of snow glow on his hair, and the tip of a very red nose tells her that he must have walked all the way from the train station.
Unfazed, the young detective beams at her. "But where would I find quality coffee at this hour, then?"
"I can make you a list. Literally."
"Eh, but I like yours better."
"You don't say!" She laughs. "Since you've practically moved in here. Nakamura-San has saved you a spot and everything."
"He has?" Shinichi seems touched, and he smiles brightly, feeling high-spirited. "That's very kind of him. I shall consider a part time job, then. I'm starting to grow fond of this city… no wonder you like it here."
She'd laugh, except she doesn't find it funny. In fact, his cheerful tone and complete disregard for the reality of the situation rather feels like a slap in the face to her.
"And would Mouri-san be okay with this?"
"What does Ran have to do with this?"
"Everything. It's been barely a couple of months since she got her boyfriend back, and now you are back at playing runaway detective? And what for, honestly?"
"I'm not her boyfriend. Not anymore."
Oh.
"Fiancé. Whatever."
"It's not like that—"
She looks away because —oh God — she really doesn't need to hear this. Not from him. Not now, not ever. She doesn't need to face the very reason she walked away, lest she fall back into the old habit of keeping hope alive just to watch it wither away. She's told herself long ago that she's done longing for the scraps of his attention.
"Spare me the details, I beg you." She wryly says, "I'm not interested in whatever your love life has become."
He seems to miss the point (as he always does), and elaborates. "I'm not dating Ran, much less engaged to her!"
He stares. She stares. Every prolonged second of silence threatens to give the deafening pounding of her heartbeat away.
"I swear to God, Kudo-Kun, if you came here to ask me for love advice—"
"Whoa— slow down!" He cuts in, clearly mortified. "Why would I even ask you of all people—"
"Me? At least I'm not the one bringing a girl's hopes up for an entire year only to leave her again!"
He grimaces, looking wounded. "You make it sound way more horrible than it already makes me feel."
"Good."
Shinichi can't decide whether to scowl at her or apologize, so he settles for a resigned sigh.
"Are you going to give me a hard time about it too?"
"I should. I just don't see the use of it. Once you've decided on something there's nothing getting through that stubborn, big head of yours, is it? Just don't tell me why. I really don't want to know."
He can't help a scoff. "You really are ruthless, Shiho."
Her name slips from his lips for the first time, catching them both by surprise, and she can see the mild panic in his eyes as he weighs whether or not he should apologize for the faux pas. She doesn't mind it at all. It's kind of sudden and kind of overdue but it's her name, and the fact that he finally thinks of her as her is a bigger validation that she'd ever dared dream of. She'd hate for him to take that back.
With hasty hands, she straightens some imaginary creases on her apron."So are you going to make an order or you plan on just sitting there all night?"
Snow falls outside, and the lamp posts cast dancing shadows on the pavement as they walk into the night. The streets surrounding the area are quiet save for the intermittent buzzing of a flickering neon sign and the echo of passing cars carried along the road.
"It's late. I'll walk you home." Shinichi offers, ever the gentleman.
"And tell you where I live? No thanks."
"Hey! Who do you take me for?"
"Ah, right. Silly me." Shiho gently taps her forehead, feigning forgetfulness. "You must already know. Don't you, Tantei-san?"
"Okay, first of all — yes."
The strawberry blonde shakes her head, smiling despite herself. "Thanks, but no thanks, Meitantei-san. You should head home too. Besides—" Her fingers reach up as she gently brushes the white snow off his dark hair. "You're going to catch a cold."
His face, still pink from the cold, suddenly turns a few shades darker.
"W-Well, then—" Shinichi stammers, flustered for no apparent reason. "Let's share your umbrella! It's big enough for two."
It actually isn't, but he takes it from her hand before she can protest and holds it slightly tilted to her side to keep the snow from falling on her shoulder. She doesn't have the energy to argue, nor the heart to make him walk alone in the snow again when he already made his way to her through it, so she complies, and they walk in silence through the slippery white streets.
"You still haven't told me what brings you all the way from Tokyo… and why you keep coming back. Please don't use Hattori's case as an excuse, we both know that's a lie."
"I am working on a case." He objects, seemingly offended. "And I could use a hand if you'd kindly take an interest in helping me!"
She shoots him a warning glare, and the poutish smile on his face turns into a wince.
"J-Just joking…? Ah— you saw right through me again!"
"You're not that hard to read, Kudo. Especially when you're lying."
"I think that only applies to you, specifically. I would have gotten into a lot of trouble if that was actually the case."
"Well, it is the case now, so…"
Don't lie to me.
Shinichi's smile is now apologetic, and his hand reaches out to brush the back of his neck as he scrambles to come up with a coherent explanation. He doesn't meet her gaze, but she gives him enough time to collect his thoughts as they walk through the drowsy streets. "I've just… I've been thinking a lot since you left —about you, about how things used to be... and where we went wrong."
"Did we…?" She asks, his words having piqued her curiosity. "Go wrong, I mean."
"I think we did? It's just that, for the longest time... I thought you were somewhat happy with us." They come to an intersection as the traffic light turns red, and he blurts, "I thought that once we got out of all that mess you'd want to stay with the professor and… well, us. The kids thought so too, you know?"
The headlights of a passing car flash by, and she catches a glimpse of the corner of his lips twisting into a weak attempt of a smile. "But you didn't. You left, and I can't make any sense of it. I can't help but wonder why, and the more I think about it, the less I understand."
Shinichi pauses to study her every reaction, but her face is as blank as the snow falling quietly into the night. He doesn't know what to make of her expression. "I've never been able to read you that well, if at all. You're quite a mystery to me, Shiho. Every time I think I've got you figured out, you prove me wrong. You're too rational to act on impulse, yet too unpredictable to get a grasp of your mind. I don't understand you… I really don't. I wish I did."
There's a split of a second where she lets herself be moved by the fact that he thinks so fondly of her, even if it is just to satisfy some morbid curiosity he might have. She doesn't allow that feeling to linger.
"Why do you care so much, Kudo-kun?" She sighs, rather accusingly, "About what motives I may have to do what I do? I'm not a case for you to solve, you can stop nagging."
"Because you left all your life behind, as if you didn't care at all!" He finally bursts, discernibly hurt by her coldness. "And Iwas a part of that life that you threw away. So yes, it does concern me, and I think at the very least I deserve to know. You left without a clear explanation, not even a destination or a return date. You left me wondering what the hell I did wrong, wondering if I mattered so little to you that you couldn't bother to reply to a single text!"
He's pissed, and that effectively pisses her off in turn. Because he still has no clue, and dares, yes he dares come to her with his wounded ego when she had to patch herself up stitch by stitch after ripping her own heart apart.
The traffic light turns green, but they both ignore it. A small flock of pedestrians pass them by, a mess of brushing shoulders and swirling snowflakes in their wake.
"And now that suddenly bothers you so much? It didn't seem to matter the day I left."
"What in the name of hell? I asked you to stay that day! Multiple times, in fact!"
She throws him an incredulous look.
"Did you?"
"Of course!"
"Seriously!"
"What? It's the truth!"
"Oh, really? What were your exact words?"
"I— what?" He scoffs. "How do you expect me to remember that!"
Because she does. And maybe she's being petty. Maybe they are both at fault. Maybe she underestimated her place in his life and this was all but a serious case of terrible miscommunication. Maybe fleeing four hundred miles away in the hope that her feelings would wither and die was not the most sensible thing to do, after all.
Regardless, it's too late now.
"Suit yourself. It's pointless arguing about it now."
He looks perplexed, and tries, unsuccessfully, to make sense of her words. "Would it have made a difference, if I said the words?"
Yes.
But she'd rather literally die than let him know that.
"Can we stop talking about could-have-beens? There's no use crying over spilled milk."
"You haven't answered my questions. Any of them." He says in a stern, solemn voice, "And you're not obliged to, but you should know that your answer does matter to me."
Shiho's eyes absentmindedly fix upon the flickering green of the traffic light, following the short glimpse of yellow before it turns back red.
"Tell me something, Kudo-kun… If I asked 'do you know who I am?', what would your answer be?"
His eyebrows draw together into a puzzled look, and he shifts his weight as the umbrella starts to feel a little heavier under the piling snow.
"What are you talking about? You... are Miyano Shiho."
"And who exactly is that person, do you know? Not Haibara Ai, but Shiho."
"You're both?" He insists, although somehow hesitantly now, "You are you!"
"It's okay." She smiles reassuringly, fighting the urge to pat his hand or ruffle his hair as she would to a little kid who understands nothing. "It's okay, because I don't know either. And I can't truly become Shiho if I keep living under the ghost of Haibara Ai... because the only reason for Haibara Ai to exist was Edogawa Conan."
"I don't think I follow." Shinichi admits, and he holds himself back from complaining when she laughs in response.
"You can't make this easy for me, can you?" There's a resigned smile on her face as she sighs. She tries to muster the courage to look him in the eye, but fails miserably and decides to softly shake off the snow piling on her uggs instead. And there's just so many distractions she could choose to fixate upon right now, but the faraway sounds of the city's nocturnal song or the flurry of neons reflected in the snow could never draw her in the way his blue eyes do, and all she can do is try her best not to fall apart under his scrutinizing stare.
It's his turn to say nothing at all, and she knows there's no escape from her overdue explanation. In a way, she owes him that.
"Haibara Ai's purpose in this world was to turn Edogawa Conan back into Kudo Shinichi. That purpose has been fulfilled, so there's no further need for her to exist. To start over as Shiho, I needed to get over you. That's why I left, because I can't build myself upon the ruins of a little girl who's all about you."
It takes a second or two (or five) for her words to sink in.
"Wait, do you mean you're—!?" He splutters, bewildered at the implications. "You? Into me… ? But how…?"
She tries to avoid his gaze, but his eyes follow hers.
"Hey, don't flatter yourself too much. It's in the past."
After several failed attempts at a coherent sentence, he manages to say, "You should have told me!"
And she laughs. Genuinely laughs.
"And what good would that have done, huh? You were with Angel. The world was fine."
He scoffs. "No, it wasn't if you had feelings for me that you never told me about!"
"Jesus. And what did you expect me to do, Kudo? Broadcast my unrequited love for you so that you could take pity on me? Save me the mortification of third wheeling for you every time you decided to take me on your dates with her? I clearly knew it was a long shot."
"Hold on, did you just say you— loved me ?"
"Let's just notgo there."
"Don't you think I have the right to know?"
"Honestly? No." Eyes cold, the tone of her voice is impassive. "My feelings belong to me and nobody else. No matter who's on the receiving end of them."
"That's, seriously messed up. You didn't have to carry all that by yourself, you know? Had I known, I would have—"
He trails off, and she tilts her head, her smile soft but skeptical. His left hand twitches midair, as if fighting back the impulse to reach out to her.
"'...you would have?' What, Kudo?" She doesn't mean to taunt him in any way, but his reaction piques her curiosity. He doesn't seem as horrified as she thought he would be, or as evasive as he ought to, and that makes her wonder in ways that she knows she shouldn't.
"I don't know." Shinichi admits, "But we wouldn't have ended up like this."
She shrugs. "Well, now you know."
There's a moment of silence in which neither of them can find the right words to say. She feels oddly at ease through the initial embarrassment , as if letting go of her worst kept secret equaled letting go of Haibara Ai's last burden. As if on cue, the traffic light before them turns green, but he seems too caught up in this revelation to even notice.
"May I ask… When did you choose to give up?"
"Kudo," She speaks each word slowly, finally meeting his gaze. Her brows draw together, "You can't give up what doesn't belong to you."
"You know, it's not fair." He protests, "That you don't even consider I have a say in this. What if I have feelings for you too? What if—"
"Don't do this."
She simply can't. Getting over him once was hard enough. Getting over him— the illusion of him, with nothing but wishful thinking and daydreams to feed that love, was hard enough. She's terrified at the idea of having to get over him after knowing what it feels like to be wanted by him. How to forget the feeling of his touch on her skin or the sweetness of his lips on hers once she's truly tasted it? How to peel her own skin off her flesh, how to rip her heart out of her chest after he's done experimenting with it? She can't keep shredding pieces of her heart to give. She has to live for herself, love for herself. Miyano Shiho —whoever that might be, she still hasn't fully figured it out, but she's learning to love this girl who's building her whole life on the small pebbles of her own choices, and not some grand scheme or someone else's life.
She can't regress to being Haibara Ai, can't go back to a life that revolves around making every version of Kudo Shinichi happy, always at the expense of her own happiness. It's infuriating that he would just casually plant a hypothesis of love in her mind and her walls would come tumbling down with such ease. And she thinks to herself that in theory, he shouldn't be that difficult to fall out of love with. But fourteen cities, ten prefectures and five seasons later, she's still hung up on a memory of the best version of herself she ever was, and she comes to the realization that one of the main reasons he's so hard to let go is because forgetting him is perhaps forgetting the kind of person she could have become. He's inherently attached to her best potential and reinventing herself without him proves to be an uphill battle when she feels so incomplete. There's a missing piece, she thinks, a part of her heart that will never belong to her. And no matter how she tries to fill that void with places and people and coffee-stained pages of I'm getting over you's, nothing seems to fit just right.
Cinderella's lost slipper, she thinks ironically. What a shame that prince charming wasn't hers to take home.
"I'm serious."
"Then what about Mouri-San? She completes you, doesn't she?"
"You think so?" He scoffs. She hums in affirmation. "What about it? Does it really matter?"
"But of course it does." Shiho says, rolling her eyes back. "You were made of each other, as they say."
"And who just decided that, huh?"
"Everyone who knows you two." She declares matter-of-factly. "She's kind. You're an asshole."
"Oi —"
"...And she fills the gaps of your life just right. Where you lack, she completes you. Isn't this how love's supposed to be?"
"Perhaps," He concedes. "But that's not for you— for anyone — to decide."
"You're an idiot if you let her go. You know that, right?"
She looks at him, at this fool of a detective that doesn't seem to have a clue what to do with his life. And she thinks it's imperative that he understands he's making the biggest mistake of his life by letting go of the one thing she had to sacrifice everything for. But he simply shrugs, saying nothing in response.
The deep rumbling sounds of several engines fill the air as the traffic light follows autumn's pattern, blurring yellow into red.
"Kudo-kun— "
"And what about you ?"
"What about me?"
"You are so convinced that everything should go back to the way it was before you that you don't take into consideration what anybody else wants. You want to think that this is the right thing to do, pretend that you never happened. But guess what? You can't. You happened. You came into our lives, and yes, it was a big deal— for Hakase, for the kids, for Ran...and for me. You happened to us, and you can't take that back even if you disappear like this. You can't wipe away the traces of all the things we went through. So stop fooling yourself into thinking that everything will magically go back to the way it was two years ago. You can't erase yourself from our lives. That's not how it works."
"It'd work if you stopped fooling around and made things right with Angel! Or else what was the point of going back to her if you're not gonna get married and have ten kids with her?" It hurts in a way that she went through the process of burying her feelings so that he could be with Ran, only to learn that it didn't work out. What was the point of years of silent pining and wasted affliction if he wasn't gonna make it worth it? He could have at least made it last, reassuring her that he couldn't love her because he'd already found the one. Now she just feels inadequate. As if even with true love out of the equation, she'd never be his choice.
"Has it ever occurred to you that instead of looking for someone good enough to make up for my flaws, I should be with someone who'd make me become a better person? And don't say Ran is that person, because you know that's not true. I've loved her since I was six and I don't think that's ever gonna change, but with time I've realized that not all kinds of love make for a good romance. At least not this kind. Maybe it's like you said, because Ran is so good to me that she meets me where I am. But I'm flawed enough as I am, I don't need an enabler. What I need— what I want is someone who can keep my head out of the clouds."
"You're looking at love too objectively. In the improbable case that such a person exists, what are the chances of finding them? What are the chances of falling in love? You're chasing rainbows here."
"You exist. And you keep me grounded. You always manage to bring out the best of me even when I'm at my worst, and I like the person I become when I'm around you."
"Well, too bad you can't fall in love with me." She deadpans.
"Too bad it already happened."
She stares. And stares. And stares. Waiting for the reveal of a joke that never comes.
"That's not funny."
"It really isn't." He takes a deep breath. "I think I love you."
The traffic light turns green.
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A/N:fun fact: this is how I wanted to end the fic but I don't want to get lynched for leaving such an open ending. I don't believe in definitive endings, but at the same time I understand the need for closure. Personally, I think everything's been addressed. Consider the next chapter nothing more than an optional epilogue.
Your comments are very much appreciated.