AN: Is there anything to do on a rainy Monday night than write a sad oneshot? Probably, but I'm not doing any of that tonight. Instead, take this depressing Shinran content. Also as for prompts, I just want to confirm that I got two anon asks on my writing tumblr (the url of which is setsunameioh, if anyone wants to send me any more), that I plan on doing sometime in the future!

Until next time!

Haunt

AU

Characters: Shinichi Kudo

Summary: If one were to ask, he definitely hadn't expected his life to end in an amusement park.

Being a detective was dangerous work. Even from a young age, that was something he had clearly understood. It wasn't something to be taken lightly, not something to get involved with if you weren't taking it seriously, but even so, if there was one thing that high school detective Kudo Shinichi hadn't considered, it was that his life would end in an amusement park. Out of all the places in the world where he had assumed there would be no danger, Tropical Land was probably on the top of his list. He had even gone so far as to reassure his childhood friend, Mouri Ran, that nothing bad could ever happen in such a place.

He'd been proved wrong- very, very wrong. Not only had a man been decapitated on the rollercoaster, but now there had been a second murder there that very same evening- that of his own.

If he had known that his life was going to end like this, he would have been more honest with the one that he had ended up leaving behind. One of many really- but out of all those he would be leaving behind him, she was the one that he couldn't help but worry about the most. As he watched her cradle his lifeless body, pleading for him to wake up in a voice that was quickly growing ragged from overuse, hot tears streaming down her cheeks, he could feel nothing else but a deep, deep sense of regret.

He didn't even have the strength to get angry about the fact that ghosts, apparently, existed, nor about finding out this fact by becoming one himself. In a way, part of him was almost grateful. He might no longer exist in her world, but at the very least, he wouldn't have to leave her side, not like this, not with nothing settled. Even if nobody could see him, even if nobody could hear his voice any longer- at least he hadn't yet entirely faded from existence.

That meant he could still do something.

More than justice for his own murder, more than putting a stop to whatever dastardly things those shady men in black were up to, what he wanted the most was to give Ran some form of closure, some kind of answer as to what had happened that day. The men who had poisoned him claimed that it was untraceable, turning him into a human guinea pig in order to test it. As he followed the investigation into his own untimely murder, he came to understand that their claims were all too true, leaving the police at a loss.

He couldn't let it end like that.

One of the first things that he discovered was that while it appeared that most people indeed couldn't see him, there were those who could still faintly hear his voice, when he really focused. They didn't seem to register it as belonging to him, sometimes hearing it as nothing more than the sound of their own thoughts. Determining who could and couldn't hear it was trickier than it sounded, but with that, he knew that there were things that he could still do.

It was to his great regret that among the people who he came to discover could still hear him, at least a little, Ran wasn't one of them. The fact that her father could almost seemed like fate was mocking him- and when he learned that their mutual friend, Suzuki Sonoko, could hear him as well, he was almost entirely convinced that this was the case. The one person who he wanted to call out to the most, to tell her any number of things, couldn't hear him, couldn't see him, couldn't even sense his presence.

For the most part. Sometimes, ever so faintly, she seemed to pick up on his presence. A feeling that someone was there, a familiar, warm feeling that seemed to put her somewhat at ease. He made use of each and every chance he got, rare as they were, but it was nowhere near enough.

The weight that Ran carried on her shoulders was too heavy, far too heavy for even someone as strong as her to bear by herself- the guilt over the fact that she hadn't been right behind him, that she had paused to tie her shoelace and had lost track of him. In her mind, she had sealed his fate herself, and no matter who it was that actually murdered him, she still felt that she bore a burnt of the responsibility for letting it happen.

He hated that. More than anything, he hated that. Even if she had followed him, there was a chance that she might have ended up just like him- and more than anything, he didn't want that. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't her fault, to scream it so loud that even she would be able to hear him. But no matter what he did, his voice couldn't reach her.

So instead, he had to settle for doing what he could for her. If her father could hear his voice, however faintly, maybe at the very least, he could use that to his advantage, to help turn their situation around. With the right prompting, Mouri Kogoro proved to be somewhat brighter than he had originally given him credit for- and a failing detective agency that barely made ends meet soon became a successful one. Sometimes it went to Kogoro's head, and he couldn't help but chafe at giving him credit for cases that he had basically solved himself, but if it made Ran smile, then it was worth it.

If he managed to get her parents back together, she would probably smile even more, but he was a detective, not a miracle worker.

It wasn't as if she had lost everything. Her parents were still there, and Sonoko as well. In any other situation, Shinichi might chafe at the way that Sonoko attempted to distract her, taking Ran with her on any of her endless schemes to find herself a boyfriend- and more importantly, to find someone that would allow Ran to forget Shinichi. It brought a bitter taste to his mouth, knowing far too late that their feelings had been mutual- but Sonoko was right. It would really be better for Ran to forget him, to find someone new, to move on.

Ironically, such attempts didn't net Ran a boyfriend, but rather, Sonoko found one instead. Still, it seemed to help, in the end- as she became invested in her friend's budding relationship, Ran was able to forget her own pain, at least for a moment. That was good. That was for the best.

Time heals all wounds, or so the expression went- and with time, he was certain that everything would one day be better than they were.

As time passed, he found more people who could faintly make out the sound of his voice, expanding the number bit by bit, extending his reach into a world that he was no longer a part of. That young police detective working underneath Inspector Megure, who could be a bit bumbling at times, but was otherwise both bright and good natured. The strange girl that his next door neighbor had taken in, who he came to resent for far too long upon learning that not only was she the one responsible for creating that poison, the one that had killed him, but that she had survived taking it herself, only shrinking down to the size of a child.

The more he learned about her though, the more he was able to slowly forgive her, bit by bit. Maybe not entirely, never entirely, for without her, he wouldn't be in this situation, nor would Ran- but the deep pain that she carried within her chest was more visible to him than anyone else. It was ironic, in a bitter, twisted way, that it was his voice that she could make out, and not that of the young woman who never left her side, trying in vain to comfort her in her darkest hours, knowing that her voice would never reach her.

He didn't know what he could do for Miyano Akemi, and she didn't quite know what she could do for him either. Still, he had to admit, he was grateful to have someone around that he could properly communicate with, even if it was another ghost.

Especially considering that the only other person who could not only hear him, but also see him as well, spent an awful lot of time at first trying to pretend otherwise. He almost didn't quite notice it at first, though he had picked up on the strange way he had flinched when he had first floated into his line of vision. It was only the second time that they met that he became convinced that this Hattori Heiji, a fellow high school detective, was able to see him, and that he just obviously wished that he wasn't. In life, they had been rivals- or at least, the one known as the detective of the west had regarded them as such.

To his great regret, he had never even heard of him while he was still alive. Maybe if he hadn't let his ego grow to such a large size, and had been paying attention to things outside of his little bubble, he might have- because Heiji certainly had more than heard of him. Not satisfied by what he had heard about Kudo Shinichi's death, and the unsolved mystery behind it, he had decided to investigate the matter himself.

A dangerous business, Shinichi had come to understand, one that had him fearing for the living that he used in order to seek out the truth. It might take years at this rate, but he would move with caution, careful not to create any further victims like himself. No matter what, he couldn't allow something like that to happen. If he could become their only sacrifice, that would be ideal.

And a dangerous situation that Hattori Heiji had decided to throw himself headlong into, headless of the danger involved, even as he came to understand it a little better. It took ages just to get the hotblooded Osakan teenager to admit that, yes, he could actually see him. He'd grumbled about it considerably, muttering something underneath his breath about having sworn he had ditched this ability in his childhood- but in the end, the two of them eventually become something akin to friends. It was the last thing he would have expected to happen after his death, forming a new friendship with someone- but he couldn't deny that he was grateful for it.

And not a friendship just for himself, either. As Ran befriended his rival's own childhood friend, a cheerful girl by the name of Toyama Kazuha, she began to have less time to dwell on his own death. As new friendships bloomed, she found other things to focus on, other things and other people, her world opening up more and more. He couldn't deny that it was painful to watch himself gradually fade from Ran's memory- but it was for the best. It was much better than watching her try and hold herself up, putting on a facade of being perfectly fine for the rest of the world to see, holding in her tears until there was no one around to witness them.

No one around but he.

In those times, it was all he could to put a soft hand on her shoulder, telling her that everything would be alright, that nothing was her fault. He knew that his touch wouldn't reach her, and that if he extended his hand even a little bit further, it would merely go right through her. Still, sometimes he liked to imagine that she could hear him, but he knew that was never the case, even in the rare moments she could faintly sense his presence. In these moments, the darkest of times, there was nothing that he could do for her, except be by her side- even if she never realized that much.

If ghosts were created from regrets, than there was no doubt in his mind, that even more than being murdered, his regret was Ran. It was leaving her behind, was letting things go unspoken between them. He would never be able to convey those feelings now- but he heard her own, time and time again, bitter words that were all too often accompanied by tears.

There would come a time when he was confident that she would be able to move on from him, to face the future for everything that it was worth. A time when she would no longer cry in secret, mourning the loss of both a dear childhood friend, and someone that she loved beyond even that, a time when she would no longer be burdened by feelings of guilt. A time when she would be free of the shackles that he had placed on her without meaning to, without realizing it, that he would do anything in his power to break.

When that time came, when everything had been solved, when those who were responsible for his murder were caught and locked away, he knew that he wouldn't be long for this world. That whatever traces of him remained behind, giving shape and form to his specter, one who couldn't even be seen, couldn't be heard, by the one who needed to see him most, would slowly fade from the world.

He wasn't sure what would happen after that. He wasn't afraid of it though.

But until such a time, for as long as she needed him, even if she didn't know he was there, he would be at her side. Until the pain and guilt faded from her heart, until she could leave behind that heavy burden, break free from those shackles, he would be here, watching over her.

And when she could finally move on, so too, would he.

But until then, he would be here, by her side- as probably the only ghost in the world that she wouldn't mind haunting her.

If only she knew.