Hello people~ I'm proud to say that we've finally reached the last round of Pocket Archives - the end is almost in our reach! Still, until we actually have it in our grasp, I'll try to do my best to make this an enjoyable ride for all of you who stayed with me and this story for so long ^^

Thank you for all of your kind comments, they mean a lot to me!

This chapter is a bit short, and please forgive me for that, but I hope you guys will like it~ (And forgive me for the mistakes, I'm uploading this literally two minutes after I finished because I'll be busy after this ^^")

Please enjoy~


They didn't get too far with Kid – the building they landed on was only a few blocks away from the museum. Shinichi considered himself lucky. This meant that if he was fast and sneaky enough, he could make his way back before the last bits of chaos and mayhem died down. The excuse for his disappearance was right there – he chased Kid. It wasn't even a lie, he was just leaving out details.

Exit the building, run down the street while being out of sight as much as possible, make his way into the museum, find Ran or someone familiar at least, tell them his excuse and go with the flow. That was the plan.

But moments passed, and he still just stood there, pressed against the wall, breathing heavily, choked down hiccups leaving his mouth as his vision got blurry. He wasn't crying, and surprisingly, he felt that he couldn't have done it even if he wanted to. It was oddly difficult to. It was as if the tight feeling all across his chest reached his tears too, keeping them inside.

"This is ridiculous," he growled, mentally chiding himself. Of course his mind didn't need to much time to catch up, unlike his body. Of course it started bullying him. It didn't hesitate, not for one second, to inform Shinichi about what a failure he was, though it offered no solution to his problem, and not even a what if scenario, a way he could've done it better. It was only there to mock him, and Shinichi had to withstand it. He had to listen to his mind, because listening to his heart was apparently the worst idea he ever had.

A minute passed, and then he finally took a big breath, ready to leave. He had his mask on, hiding anything that might give him away.


On that night, as he lied under the blankets back at the agency, Shinichi found himself desperately wishing for the ability to turn back time. He would've erase his exchange with Kid, not only from that very night, but possibly all of them. He would've gone back, back when he was doll sized, and asked for freedom. "Let me go," he would've said when Kid locked him up. No, even before that, even before Kid found him in that dumpster, when all he had was a mild interest in the thief. He would've found that point in his life, and stomped on his feelings, crushing them under the heavy weight of his logic, drowning his curiosity in literally anything else but Kid and his heists.

Anything to feel less miserable. He sighed. Emotions really weren't his thing after all. They weren't logical and all they did was mess with his judgement and concentration. They hurt and there was no remedy to the pain other than time, when Shinichi couldn't wait.

He had a mission, he had people to save, his loved ones, his friends, himself…! Yet this foolish hope that he couldn't break down was there, itching under his skin, urging him to get up and do something. And despite the frustration he felt with himself, with the situation, with Kid, he felt himself going with that hope, blindly, foolishly, visioning scenes that would never happen in his life.

He wondered – when does he reach that point where he can finally give up? Where he can stop hoping? Can he even do that? Maybe he could, after weeks or months, if he really tried, but at that moment, feeling as if he's been slammed to the ground, he couldn't find it in himself to try. This slow suffering, the kind that drained him until the only thing that kept him going is the person who did this to him in the first place, it seemed to be the easier solution.

And gods, he wanted an easy solution.


The next morning was… odd. Shinichi felt weirdly normal. His feelings were still out of place, he was still drained and lacked the power to do much, but there was no pain. No suffering. His mind's mockery died down too.

The day started normally too, getting ready, eating breakfast, heading to school… If not for the numb feeling in his chest, everything would've been conveniently, almost reassuringly mundane. The world didn't comment on his breakdown, just welcomed him back into his routine, this red tainted, upside down mess that was his life. As if telling him "it's alright." Maybe it was. It was okay to break down as long as he managed to stand back on his feet.


By the end of his last class, despite his revelation in the morning, Shinichi still felt tired. For once, he could forgive himself, though. Haibara was missing that day, leaving with no rest as the other children pulled him along into their plays. Like the really exciting investigation and chase after someone's pink pen with strawberry scented ink during lunch break. Truly one of his most interesting cases. But if anything, it worked perfectly as distraction during the day, and he was grateful for that.

Still, after they were free from school, he found himself saying goodbye to his friends and heading to his house. He didn't go there to wonder what kind of life he could've had without the organisation, to think about his mission, to beat himself up for his failures… He just wanted some peace and quiet, and hopefully that house would give him just that.

He opened the front door with a heavy sigh, before he stepped inside. He wasn't sure when the place started feeling like a hideout, rather than his home, but it never failed to surprise him. He could come up with any excuse, should anyone find him there, and at that point, he could make himself look and sound believable, but that uncomfortable feeling that he was just sneaking around never eased.

He stepped into his room, his old room then. That drained feeling only got stronger as he put his backpack down and collapsed on top of the bed. The dust that flew up made him cough for a bit, but it passed in the end. It was quiet and peaceful, just like he wanted.

But just as he closed his eyes, he heard the room open again. He sat up with a gasp, turning towards the sound…

…Only to find a fully adult Miyano Shiho standing there.