Going Through the Motions - I'm Sorry
The cold plastic of the phone burned in his palm, eyes on the dark sky above him. But he didn't see the tiny flakes of snow coming down. He didn't see the twinkling lights of the stars. He didn't feel the biting cold that was slowly seeping into his warm clothes.
Shinichi only felt a familiar pain. A pang of guilt.
It hurt to hear her chocked voice on the other end of the line. The tremble she was trying so hard to hide. She was sad, she was crying. Again. Again because of him.
"I'm sorry, Ran. I'm sorry."
"I know— I know, but I can't—"
'I'm sorry, Ran.'
That apology again. Over an over and over.
And he was sick of it. The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. After all, what were those words still worth? He had used them so many times. Again and again and again. Lying, saying he was sorry, making promises he broke. Shinichi closed his eyes for a moment, knuckles whitening. Sometimes, deep down, he was scared—afraid he would become indifferent to it, to bullshitting himself though this living lie. The living lie that was Conan.
Sometimes when he looked in the mirror, he would stare at his reflection a tad too long. Visualizing what he looked like before. Without the glasses and the too-small face.
Sometimes he was amazed at how natural Conan had become to him. And that scared him too.
What if he would not able to return to his old body. What if he would forget himself. His real self. What if—
"Shinichi?"
Ran was calling out to him. How long had he been spacing out for?
"Ah, Ran, I have to go. I will call you soon. I promise."
He fumbled with his phone. The voice on the other end wanted to say something more, but he broke off the conversation. Plunging his surroundings into silence.
There he goes, making yet again another promise. When would it stop? When would he stop?
He lowered the voice changer.
However, he knew; he couldn't stop. Not yet.
000
She had been crying. It was obvious. Red eyes, flushed cheeks. Even if she was trying to hide it from him. But he had to ask. He had to make it better, somehow. "Ran-neechan?" His childish voice sounded through the quiet kitchen. "Mh?" She looked up from the pan she'd been staring into mindlessly. "What is it, Conan-kun?"
The smile she gave him was strained. And it hurt. Her tears hurt him more than anything else.
He swallowed to wet his dry throat, couldn't quite look at her. "I'm sorry." The soft words were out of his mouth before he knew it. And they made him want to slam his head against the kitchen table. "Eh?" Surprised, she turned toward him, ladle still in one hand. And Shinichi couldn't help but fidget under her gaze, looking anywhere but at the beautiful girl, he loved so much. Her footsteps were soft on the kitchen tiles, and suddenly, a warm hand settled itself on his head. "Eh?" Now it was his turn to be surprised. She looked down at him, smiling and patting his head softly. "Thank you, Conan-kun. For trying to make me feel better. But you don't have to apologize. You have done nothing wrong, after all."
'No! Don't!'
'I—'
"But—"
"And." She was still looking at him, patting his dark hair, eyes searching. "You are sad, too, aren't you." It was not a question. "Eh?" He felt his cheeks heat up, and he had to look away. Was he sad? Was that what he felt? Well, maybe... Perhaps, he supposed he was. Just a little bit.
Yeah... I'm sad...
I...
You know...
It's...
"..."
000
"You can tell me, Conan-kun."
"Ran-neechan. ...Shinichi-niichan is really sorry."
"...I know. I know he is."
She smiled at him once more. Although the smile didn't reach her eyes.
'I'm sorry, Ran. I'm sorry.'
'Wait for me.'
