A/N: So… the much-awaited chapter at last. (God, we're really getting to the end here. When did I begin this again? And what'll I do when I'm done? Well, I do know, actually… -stares off in the distance-)

Chappie dedicated, with my thanks and love and cookies, to Chocolaty Taste,ami-chan, and butterfly-chan (as ever) for their beautiful, ten-pages-long reviews. You made my days, girls… and frankly, I laughed so much.

Disclaimer–naaaaahhhhhh-uuuuuuuhhhhh. –fiercely attacks poor, innocent cookie–

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A Detective's Confession

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Journeys end in lovers meeting.

William Shakespeare

-

The sun had set. The golds and reds of dusk had subsided, and a wide, still-clear bleu spread over the sky, striped with the black clouds that stretched over it like smoke shadows. Likewise, the landscape below was shaded in blue and black–and grey, and green where woods coated the hills. Leaning on her balcony, the window still open in her back, Ran watched it all in silence.

Below the last of police cars and journalists had finally gone away with what they wanted, and the few remaining guests had moved back inside.

The air was cool, almost cold; sounds had reduced to the gentlest rustle of leaves and branches, and birds lightly responding to one another. The world, after the constant excitement of the day, was now peaceful and pure, and it was difficult to imagine figures draped in shadows crawling down passages, when time had stilled to the endless darkening of shades following twilight.

Her body was calm and relaxed, as though taking a long, deep breath after holding it in so long. But her mind was already occupied elsewhere; she could imagine the soft rap on the door, the slow turning of the handle, the footsteps easing in…

When Shinichi eventually knocked, he had to do it twice before she turned and called to come in. She didn't leave the balcony–she wouldn't come forward to him, wouldn't grant him that pleasure. The culprit was found and now arrested, the case was closed, the truce it had settled between had met its deadline: now they had only their own petty battle to fight.

Shinichi came in slowly, showing no surprise at finding her on the far other side of the room, behind the barricades of her window, the balcony, the night. He went straight in, and leant likewise against the stone parapet. Ran didn't speak. Leave it to him to make the first move.

"Megure-keibu and his men took him down to Tokyo," he said, after a minute's silence. "The trial should take place in a few weeks. He won't be able to harm you again."

It wasn't even a blow; just a test of her feelings–to know what grounds she stood on, whether or not they were solid.

"I'll get him a good lawyer for the defence," she said slowly, not turning her eyes at him. "Someone competent." A mild step forwards before the actual assault. "Someone who can help him out.

His sounded truly shocked in his answer. "Ran, this man tried to kill you!" and she fancied she heard the ram of swords finally, finally clashing together as she faced him, eyes meeting eyes and defying.

"I know. But if he simply gets some more years of prison, his hatred towards lawyers will never alter. He'll only try and attack the man who charged him like I did nine years ago, and this time there might really be murder done. He's got to be medically helped out of this, not continually incarcerated. The man's deranged."

She saw acceptance in the blue eyes, and averted hers quickly before he could read in them more than she had in his. But after a minute she knew her defences mustn't be so impenetrable as she hoped. "You don't have to feel guilty over this, you know. That's the true reason, isn't it?–one of them, anyway. You're feeling responsible over what happened here?"

She hesitated between denying everything and accepting his statement as truth, then compromised, "If I hadn't charged him so heavily nine years ago–"

"You couldn't know," Shinichi, always the rational mind, objected. He was never going to defeat her with arguments like this. "Besides, he was a murderer. He was lucky to get out with only nine years–six, in the end."

Her shield had been assaulted in two places, but she kept on, head-on. "If I hadn't accepted to help Sonoko with this case, none of this would have happened. Sakagushi-san, Ikenami-san. Hikaru-san, and her a pregnant woman, too. And I couldn't move the smallest finger to help–"

"You couldn't have known," Shinichi persisted, pushing her hard against her own fortifications. "If none of you had been aggressed, we might never have caught him anyway–if he hadn't tried to kill you two days ago, we might never have had any evidence of his being our man."

"Yes, I know. But it's just that–although he was mental and defended some kind of crazy justice, he–it was his love for his wife which triggered all this. I saw her photograph, you know–even went to see her body at the morgue, nine years back. She was–very beautiful. The calculating kind. She cheated on her husband the whole time, only to be killed by her lover, and he–loved her all along. He…"

'I know people like you. You use those around you and then ditch them away when they can't help anymore.'

"I just feel sick."

She thought she had shut him up, but after the necessary while he said–"It wasn't his love for his life that provoked his need for killing, whichever way his lawyer may have put it nine years ago. He wanted to revenge. All along he was cheated on and deceived. I should say he projected on you all the grievance he felt against his beloved wife. You needn't feel guilty, Ran."

He marked a hesitation. "Love is a very different thing," he said.

"… how can you know?" Ran said, lips quivering numb around the weight of the words.

"Because–" he broke off, and his eyes were so blue in the pending darkness falling all about them she couldn't tear away from him. "Because I've loved you ever since I'm fifteen."

It was a low blow and it affected her as such–like a kick in the plexus with cuts all breath short, and kept her silent until he continued, more slowly and steadily, "Actually, maybe sooner than that–fifteen's the oldest I remember of knowing I loved you. Before that, I–" a thin smile here, as though remembering something– "was probably too young to realize my feelings, but there were there all along."

These was a series of rapid but efficient blows and she had to clutch onto the parapet to avoid falling, to avoid giving in. She couldn't breathe anyway, gasping for air did nothing to it. Shinichi glanced at her, expecting her to talk, but she shunned her eyes away.

"The Conan days–were probably the worst and the best I spent. Being so close to you was something I'd never imagined but–gosh, I'm sorry, Ran. I've said it before, and I'll say it again… but it's ten-years-old, and it was done for the best."

Ran swallowed.

"Parting with you was the most difficult part. I'd never thought it would be so painful–I hadn't realized what a hole you would create when you were gone. What a day that was–the way you looked at me then…" he slid the back of his hand down her cheek and she nearly jumped right out of her skin. She turned to him, ready to bite, but oh that blue again… and she was unable to move, a poor fighter indeed if he could disarm her so easily.

"So beautiful…"

The fingers strayed on her skin gently, sliding to the stubborn curves of her mouth.

"The taste of your lips…" His breath was just above hers now, and deep inside Ran's forces were faltering. It would be so easy to let him… to let him…

He moved away. His presence lifted like a heavy weight, and suddenly she realized how foolish she was. She was reacting like a common schoolgirl–but, damn it! she was no longer eighteen. She was twenty-eight, a renowned lawyer–it wouldn't do to lose oneself that way. She was stronger than that. She'd face him, and fight him–and fall, maybe, but never give in.

"I'm sorry," he said again, turning back to her guiltily. "I didn't mean to hurt you just now."

"Didn't mean to hurt me?" repeated Ran disbelievingly. His mouth curled in what could have been a snarl and could have been a self-deprecating smile.

"I know." He was silent. "After we parted–after I graduated, I was already known as a teenage detective. It didn't take me too long to become what–or who–I am now. Not long enough," he said, voice bitter as hard cider. "I fell down into routine. Solving cases, dealing with the police, dealing with the lawyers–never you, because you took care never to accept any case having to do with me," it wasn't a judgement, just a statement, "going home, drinking to forget, spending the night with women I did not like. It wasn't difficult. It was all the easier to live this life that I didn't have to confront with you–with my feelings–with my weaknesses."

He looked at her. She didn't look back–she wouldn't, couldn't grant him that. It would be giving him an opportunity to read into her very soul.

"Ten years. And then I received your letter." A pause in the assault–he was looking for some weak flank, she knew, the Achilles' heel, her lone refuge. "Curiously, it didn't affect me as one would think–less shellshock than resignation–but seeing you did. Being with you, speaking to you–it was having my life back."

"Shinichi–"

She mentioned at her to keep silent–for the time being, at least. "Those weeks with you made me forget myself. They reached their solace that day we left, after Ikenami-san was poisoned–I wanted a last happy memory with you, and I sure got it. It was the happiest I felt in years." He was smiling softly, deep in remembrance, and she was assaulted by memories–Conan smiling the same smile, the same softness at the corners of his eyes.

"The next day I went to Tokyo, and when I realized who Kenjin was­–really is, I also understood what his real objective was. I'd thought he'd wanted to stop the study, whatever it was–"

Yes, the study–that, that hadn't been explained. Sonoko…

"–killing you. I told Araide to go straight after you and drove back like a shot, terrified at the idea that I could lose you, wishing like a fool that for once I had been wrong in my deductions–until at arriving I found Suzuki on location, astonished to see me, found my conclusions right from beginning to end, found you nearly dead because of my own careless fault."

Even down, shield broken in numerous parts, Ran found the strength to strike back. "I'm not dead," she protested. "I'm feeling okay, just tired. Araide… and you… both saved my life." Damn.

He turned to her, and in the blue there was such tenderness, such sad, sad sorrow she felt maybe the battle wasn't over yet–maybe she hadn't completely lost. "I know," he said. "But I'm losing you anyways."

And then she knew it was far, far too late, and he had taken over everything. Everything he had once owned, everything she'd succeeded in tearing back to her in ten long, heavy years, like a thief–he had won all back in a couple of weeks, without any apparent difficulty.

"It's been ironical, those weeks," he was saying, starting to laugh without the slightest trace of amusement, without joy. "I've been busy sewing off my own branch… I was losing you either way–honest or not." There he stopped. "But I don't regret, just as I don't, can't regret being Conan once. It taught one lesson to stupid, arrogant, proud child I was–and I'd thought I'd grown out of it by now. It was a hard lesson."

"Baka," Ran murmured. She didn't seem able to say anything else, and after a second he took her hand in his with a smile. (And it was the final blow, the one which pierced straight through her heart.)

"You don't have to say anything yet. You don't have to say anything at all, if you don't want to. I'll understand. I'm not stupid–not anymore, and not that much. I just want you to know." His fingers pressed hers gently. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Shin–"

"Goodnight." He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, and was gone.

–so the battle had ended. She had won. In a few minutes, a few words–one last kiss–he had given her everything he had taken from her; accepted it as her own property. The battlefield was void of any fighter, and as she leant back against the stone, icy-cold parapet, trying to fight back tears, she found herself with as much or more than she had had at the beginning.

The battle was over. And she'd lost nothing–nothing, except her heart in her chest, the one thing that meant everything.

He'd taken it away with him.

-

It was a restless night. Ran tossed and turned indefinitely in her bed, sleep keeping resolutely at bay, Shinichi's words circling in her mind like mockingbirds, round and round and round again…

'Sayonara, Ran.'

'It's past, Ran. Can we leave it all there?'

'I'm losing you either way…'

Well, Ran thought, staring at the ceiling with her arms tucked behind her pillow, if he thinks he'll just get at me with this, he's damn well mistaken….how does he think I lived up through ten years….consequences of one's actions be damned….I don't regret anything. I've forgotten how….it doesn't do to regret….Like having one's head bashed in….I won't be blind, anyway….or oblivious….nothing hurts like being oblivious….ten years…. Why did he accept the case anyway?

'I can call someone else to take care of this matter.' I should have said yes….it would have spared me that….blast the man! He must have known honesty hurt like hell…

'I knew you would come up with this sometime or other. You wouldn't leave it all buried in the past, would you?'

Well, no, I can't….gratitude…. oh, damn…I don't want to be grateful….Did it for me… yeah, right….that's hypocrisy, my lad….I can't be grateful to you if you're hypocritical….if you're handing it all to me freely. Why did he come at all….why didn't I say yes….opposite forces….that only way to hang on… even if it hurts? Oh, I don't know… I don't know anything… I don't want to know anything. Damn it! Can't I sleep?

It would be so easy to sleep… "To sleep, no more, and, by a sleep to say we end…" Damn…

'We'll find the culprit, we'll catch him, and be done with it–then I'll take you out for coffee and… back away from your life.'

'I'm busy sewing off my own branch…'

Suits him well….hope he falls down hard….You were honest, Shinichi, weren't you? Of all the beastly things, honesty is the worst….losing you either way… what's the point… it was a lose-lose situation from the start, so what's the point….hanging on…for the sake of what? … honesty… but it hurts. It's the very thing that hurts… we could hurt each other so much…

'You didn't think that some people love Ran, just like you loved your wife.'

'You use those around you, and then you ditch them away when they can't help anymore… How long is this one's going to last? How long before you ditch him away, too?'

Can't let him believe that…. I never asked for anything…. Came my way….ready to clutch onto anything to hold on. I can't help it….in perpetual fall….and what am I supposed to do about it? If he thinks I'm going to accept his protection…. I'm strong enough as it is….but something's rotten. Something's rotten….I can't seem to be able to get rid of Shakespeare….Of all the tragic plays… everybody dies in the end. Everybody d–

'Goodnight.'

Shinichi… the name escaped her lips, and fear was there, unexpected, sudden, foolish, absurd fear as a thousand questions fell over in her mind–what if Hiragami-san had had an accomplice, after all? What if he attacked Shinichi? What if he killed him? What if she never got another chance to see–to speak–to feel with him again… Shinichi…

It was stupid fear–the kind which grasps your insides at night, twists them into knots, lifts onto your chest, grips at your throat. Tears began to run down her cheeks and she wiped them senselessly before fear built up so high, so tensely, so heavily it erased all thought and she found herself stumbling out of bed, wrenching the door open, out into the corridor already. Shinichi's name echoed in and out of her mind, a little voice that kept murmuring words she wouldn't hear…

A turn, a step. She didn't care about her light nightgown or bare feet, though she was shuddering, and she ran through the corridors like a hurried ghost, wishing and praying and wishing and praying, Kami-sama please let him be safe let me be on time…

A turn, a step. Shinichi's voice. Shinichi's words… I've so loved you ever since I'm fifteen. So. This is goodbye? You're the best thing that ever happened to me. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

A turn, a step. There was light under his door. But it meant nothing; it never meant anything; the murderer may be slaying him right now, she couldn't turn away, not anymore–and she was bursting in, slamming the door open.

Shinichi was working at the light of his desklamp. He stood up violently at her so abrupt entrance, and she caught a shocked glimpse of blue and a strangled Ran? before she ran straight into his arms; nose in his chest and hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

And she was babbling, stammering words irrepressibly–"Shinichi–Shinichi–you're safe–you're alright–you're not dead–I was so–I thought… I thought you were dead–my god! I love you so much–I love you–please don't die on me now…"

"Shh…" he hugged her, gently, as thought she were made of glass. Her trembling body was held closer and closer to his, his hands soothing her back and entangling with her loose hair. "It's okay, Ran, I'm here, don't worry, don't worry…" He moved slowly to close the door, and she followed him, gripping onto him for absurd fear to let go. "C'mon, sit down," he murmured, leading her toward the bed. "Sit down and tell me what's going on."

She sat, blind and deaf to everything that wasn't him, taking in all the little details her senses could catch that said he was alive, he was with her, his warmth and his touch and his voice and his hands… her eyes filled and she slid both arms around him, sobbing in his shirt.

After a second he held her close and caressed her hair gently–so gently it wasn't difficult to lose herself to that sensation.

At length–but all notions of time had gone west a long time ago–sobs thinned out and calmed, shoulders stopped quivering, tears cleared. She relaxed, and as sensations and senses returned to her she suddenly felt very foolish with herself.

Silly indeed to come and make a row of crying in Shinichi's shirt because of some absurd, childish fears!

"Feeling better?" Shinichi murmured in her ear, and his voice was so low and tender she shuddered. But she nodded; and her hands sliding down from behind his neck, she disentangled herself from his lap. He let go regretfully. "You must think I'm stupid," she said in a breath.

He was silent for a moment. "I don't," he replied, the back of his hand come to stroke her cheek in what was maybe an involuntary gesture. "What's happened?"

"I–I thought Hiragami-san had an accomplice," she confessed. "I imagined he'd come after you–he'd go kill you–I had to protect you–oh, this is stupid," and made to stand towards the door. His hand closed around her wrist, and pulled her back.

"Ran…"

She bit the inside of her lower lip, refusing to meet his eyes–his wonderful blue eyes… which would read into hers what she wanted most to conceal. He turned her head to him, holding her close, the warmth of his hands on her bare forearms almost painful in their gentleness. They were ten years in the past all over again, as embarrassed and awkward, and she could still sense the feel and the taste of his lips against hers, as acutely as though he'd just kissed her.

"Ran." (Tone firm, this time, she couldn't escape.)

She looked at him. And she knew she could still back away honourably, she could go away now, walk out and he wouldn't detain her. She could still decide not to lose. He looked–weary, strained, all masks and defences down, like barricades only she, for some reason, had the power to strip him of.

"Shinichi?"

But she had already lost, and she already knew it. She had lost to him long ago. The day he'd come back into her life–she'd lost and won everything that mattered to be lost and won, and so had he. His fingers were entangling in her hair again–

–she let herself be drawn in that irresistible, terrifying embrace again, and finished off that ten-years-old kiss.

-

-for some reason, is completely ashamed by the fluff- damnit, it's all katie-chan's fault. Kirby infected my muse, I swear… they're plotting something sinister… something about heart-wrenching fluff and pink balloons and walking cookies–and anyway I can't write smex to save my life. Use your imaginations. -hinders away-

By the way, here's my Christmas announcement. I've said it in Gems before, but I figured I might as well say it here… consider this my Christmas present to you all–give me a prompt, and I'll write a drabble for it. Like, anything. A few words. The title of a song you like, and I'll go look up the lyrics. A line out of a book. Something you'd like to see written… AU, canon, Christmas-related? Just ask. And really, anyone can ask.

I'll post the bunch on Christmas Eve. By then, I'll have updated (and finished, my god) this story. (I hope.) Till then. -holds out santa-shaped cookies-

Finals beginning today. Wish me luck…