Chapter 16: Lingering Feelings

"… So yer trusting a thief…?"

After calming down and assuring Heiji that he hadn't been ignoring his calls, Shinichi explained what happened. Heiji was far from impressed.

"He offered his help," Shinichi said simply. "It's not as if he's going to go around telling people about it. And it's the best way to get police records from all over Japan rather than one or two places." A chuckle crackled through the receiver.

"Yer walkin' a fine line, Kudo."

"I've been walking that line since I was poisoned," he pointed out. For someone so intent on finding and revealing the truth, he'd surrounded himself in a massive web of lies. "Besides, no one's getting hurt, and we're not stealing or falsifying records. I need information as quickly and discretely as possible, and that opportunity just falls in my lap? I'm not passing that up." Heiji laughed.

"I was just makin' an observation—didn't mean to sound like I was accusin' ya. Come to think of it, I've been walkin' that line a lot since meetin' ya." Shinichi smirked at that. "Anyway, that's not why I called." Shinichi straightened up.

"Did you find anything?"

"Just more of the same," he admitted. "Well, outta the ones I could get."

"'The ones you could get'? What does that mean?"

"Three of 'em died," came the solemn answer. "One had a heart attack at thirty." Shinichi's brows shot up, surprised. "One had an aneurysm. The last one," said Heiji, voice taking up a harder tone, "committed suicide."

"Suicide?" said Shinichi, more alert now.

"Yeah. An' get this; she had no previous history of mental illness or depression. She had a stable job, a steady income, and everythin' at home was just peachy, even accordin' to the neighbors."

"That's… very strange," said Shinichi slowly. "So why did she kill herself?" Heiji hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, usually in cases like this, there may have been an undiagnosed issue, but… it's unlikely family an' best friends wouldn't notice something, even if she never said anythin' outright…"

"And you questioned her friends as well?"

"Of course! And everyone said she was fine before she disappeared."

"Only before?" asked Shinichi. "II take it she wasn't fine after?"

"Mmm… She was more or less the same, but her best friend said she started complainin' about some weird dreams," said Heiji. Shinichi frowned.

"Weird dreams…" he repeated slowly, vaguely remembering the old man in Ekoda's neighbor saying something similar.

"Yeah. Is that important?" asked Heiji, hearing the uncertainty in Shinichi's tone.

"I'm not sure. It might be. Did you find out what the dreams were?"

"No, I didn't—an' she didn't tell her friend what they were, either. Why?"

"…I'm not sure. It could be nothing," said Shinichi, glancing at the door Ran had left through. "They all had the same burn mark, too?"

"Yup. The same size, in the same place. There's definitely somethin' about that, but I haven't figured out what."

"Me neither," sighed Shinichi. He glanced at the door again. "I have to go—can you email me what you've got?"

"Huh? Ah, yeah," said Heiji. Usually, he'd make some remark about Shinichi hanging up on him, but he must have heard something in his voice because he let it go without a fuss. "I'll see about gettin' a list fer the rest of Kansai, 'kay? Unless yer thief gets there first." He hung up. Shinichi snorted.

Jealous much? he thought with no small amount of amusement. His smile faded, though, as he remembered Ran's dejected attitude, and he left the room to search for her.

Thankfully, he didn't have to search for too long, since she'd only gone back to her room. She was seated at the small desk in the corner (something his parents had installed in all of the bedrooms for some unknown reason), slumped over it, her face hidden in her arms. He regarded her sadly for a moment before knocking on the door frame. She tensed, but otherwise gave no indication of having heard him. He sighed.

"Ran," he called softly as he stepped into the room. She responded only by tightening her arms around her head. Her breath hitch with stifled sobs. He moved to stand beside her and hesitantly lifted a hand to her back, gently rubbing in small, rhythmic circles.

"I just… wanted to be me," came a small, shaky whisper.

"I know," said Shinichi, voice soft. He closed his eyes and focused on the slow movement of his hand on her trembling back, choosing his next words carefully and purposefully. "But you are still you." She peeked out of her arms at that.

"But I—" She swallowed and hid her head again.

"What's your name?" asked Shinichi, deciding to drill some logic into her.

"Huh?"

"Your name," he prompted. "What is it?"

"… Mouri… Ran…" she said slowly.

"Are you sure?" he asked. She lifted her head, sitting up, and looked down at him with a confused frown.

"Of course!" she said instantly. "Since that's my name." He pointed at her.

"You can say that because you are Mouri Ran," he said. "And as long as you know that is your name, you are still Mouri Ran." Ran blinked down at him, stunned, before her shoulders slumped a bit.

"But," she said again, gaze training on her hands, "still…" Shinichi also looked at her hands—hands that belonged to him, or should have, if it weren't for the poison. He looked at his own, much smaller hands.

"I know it's hard," he said, balling those tiny hands into fists. "I know that more than anyone." He looked back up. Ran refused to meet his gaze, fresh tears bubbling over. "But we can't ever lose sight of who we really are, even if we look different on the outside." He leaned forward and gave her hand a light squeeze. "I'm not asking you to be okay. You don't have to always be okay." Ran finally looked at him "You just have to remember that you're not alone." He squeezed her hand again. "Alright?"

Ran's chin quivered, and more tears slipped down her cheeks as she stared down at Shinichi. For the second time, she slipped off the chair onto her knees, and flung her arms around him, holding onto him like a lifeline. Unlike last time, she buried her face into his tiny shoulder as best she could, and the dam broke. Her whole body shook with unrestrained sobs, and he could do nothing but rub her back with a sad calm he barely felt.

It was more than a little unnerving, hearing his own voice weeping like that. Even with the Shiragami case, he only got to see his face in tears. This was so much worse. He closed his eyes and forced himself not to think about it.

Ran continued to weep onto his shoulder until well after midnight, when she was too tired to continue. Shinichi somehow managed to guide her into the bed, where she collapsed almost immediately. Carefully, he tucked the blanket around her. He left for the kitchen and returned with a glass of water which he left on the bedside table. He switched off the light and took one last look at her before retiring to his own room for the night, heart heavy.

His last thought before drifting off into a fitful sleep was that he was glad tomorrow was Saturday, since he didn't need to wake up early.

xXx

Shinichi woke up late the next morning, head aching and feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton. His night, as he probably should have expected, had been filled with nightmares about wandering into the bathroom, only to find Ran's body lying in a pool of blood, a knife held loosely in her lifeless hand.

He shivered as he tried not to remember the image of what had been left of her face.

"Damned thief," he growled as he climbed out of bed. He hadn't actually said anything explicitly, but the implications of yesterday's conversation plagued Shinichi all night.

The smell of food drifting up from downstairs made his stomach turn at the memory of the dream. He swallowed down the desire to gag, reminding himself that the smell of food from downstairs meant that Ran was alive and well. It was just a stupid dream.

He shook his head to clear it, wincing at the twinge in his brain from the movement. The smell of fresh coffee alleviated the ache somewhat, and he headed downstairs. He didn't have much of an appetite, but coffee was always welcome.

Once downstairs, Shinichi poked his head in the kitchen, just to reassure himself. Ran was there, scrubbing away at a skillet. She didn't see him—probably because her eyes were too puffy to see much of anything that wasn't directly in front of her: the evidence of last night's breakdown.

Curiosity satisfied, he made his way to the dining room where breakfast and coffee was already waiting for him. He wearily eyed the food, wondering if he could even keep it down, before turning his attention to the coffee. The rich aroma decided him, and he gingerly sipped it. The nausea he'd awoken to slowly dissipated just enough for him to pick listlessly at the food.

I should feel better by lunch, he told himself. It was ridiculous that a dream could affect his appetite, but it had. He sighed into his cup.

At least now I don't have to worry about getting the information I need… He stared at his reflection, a dark shadow in the black liquid. I just hope Hattori doesn't view Kid's involvement as a challenge of his own capabilities. The last thing they needed right now was for Heiji's competitive drive to get in the way of the investigation. Of course, since this was for Ran's sake (and possibly the sake of all of Japan), perhaps he'd keep a level head. He didn't really see the thief as a rival, at least not in the way he used to consider Shinichi. He sighed again.

"Is something wrong?"

Shinichi startled out of his muddled thoughts at the sound of Ran's voice. He looked up to find her seated across from him, staring at him with a hint of concern. He breathed out a dry chuckle.

"Not really," he assured her. "Just thinking about a few things." He downed the rest of his coffee. She eyed his mostly untouched plate, a small frown forming, but thankfully didn't press him about it.

"About last night…" she said, looking down at the grain of the table. "I'm sorry." Shinichi's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"What for?" he asked. She fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat, pointedly not looking at him.

"For… for worrying you, I guess." She grimaced. "… And for crying with your face." To her surprise, Shinichi actually snorted.

"You don't need to apologize for something like that," he said, waving a hand in the air to dismiss her concerns. "I told you last night, right? You don't have to be okay all the time. And honestly, in that situation, it'd be weirder if you didn't cry." He mumbled the last part, averting his eyes as a slight blush dusted his cheeks. He'd be lying if he said the crying didn't make him uncomfortable, but he wasn't about to tell her that, lest she bottle everything up again.

Ran flushed a little at the last statement as well, but chose not to refute it, despite opening her mouth a few times (presumably to attempt a defense).

"I-if… you say so," she said instead, voice laced with uncertainty. Shinichi hid a smile behind his now empty coffee cup.

Technically, his words were more than a little hypocritical, he knew, since he also pretended to be fine, but her situation was different. She didn't have to pretend twenty-four/seven.

Well, now he didn't have to pretend all the time either, but for some reason he still felt he needed to be strong. Maybe she also felt that way.

He let her take his still full breakfast plate without complaint, since his appetite still hadn't come back from the realm of his nightmares. Speaking of nightmares…

"Ne, Ran," he said as he followed her into the kitchen with his cup. "I meant to ask you last night, but—" She blushed at the reminder— "have you had any weird dreams lately?" She frowned at him as she took the cup he handed her for a caffeine refill.

"I don't think so," she said slowly after a moment of thought as she filled the cup again. "Of course, I've always had trouble remembering my dreams unless they were especially scary… Why?" Shinichi shook his head.

"If you haven't, then it's probably nothing," he said as he climbed into one of the chairs at the island counter. Ran set the cup in front of him before turning to work on the rest of the dishes.

"Why the sudden interest?" she asked over the running faucet. "Did you start having weird dreams?"" Shinichi flushed, chuckling a bit.

"… I guess I did," he muttered darkly. He felt a little stupid—any number of things could trigger strange dreams: in his case, stress on top of last night's conversation. Since he didn't know for certain the conditions the two dead people lived in, he couldn't pinpoint any common variables. It just showed he was desperate enough to grasp at straws.

He downed the contents of the cup so quickly he might have been taking a shot of liquor. The hot coffee scalded his throat on its way down, effectively—if painfully—waking him up completely.

No matter how many times he went over what they knew, it didn't change the fact that more information was needed. He'd need to be extra diligent from here on out and—grudgingly—stay away from the reports he had for the time being. At the very least, he wouldn't be worrying Ran like he had the past week.

It was time to switch gears, starting with Ran's missing memories.