Chapter 27: A Short Reprieve
Sincerest apologies for the wait- this chapter was super sticky (and by that I mean in did NOT want to come out of my brain). I'm sorry if anything feels disjointed because of that.
I also apologize in advance for the head-hopping that occurs in this part. As a general rule, I try my best to keep head-hopping to an absolute minimum, since swapping perspective too frequently can get confusing and (frankly) annoying. Unfortunately, this chapter refused to come out any other way, which is partly why it's so late coming.
It was several hours before Shinichi even felt up to sitting. He took several shaky drags of air, but didn't budge from his place under the piano. Cotton wool stuffed his head, but he couldn't find it in him to care. His phone rang as he rubbed at eyelids that felt like they were made of lead. He didn't bother checking the caller ID.
"H'llo?"
"Kudo? You weren't still asleep this late, were ya?"
"… Hattori…" his voice came out too thick, pushing itself out of a raw throat, which of course Heiji picked up on right away.
"Did somethin' happen? Is Neechan okay?"
"Sh-she's…" Shinichi swallowed and shook his head. "She's gone…"
"WHAT?!" The small teen winced as the phone crackled in his ear. "GONE?! Y'mean she died?! When?!"
"She's not dead, Hattori, she's just… gone." There was the sound of a relieved sigh before the Osakan demanded an explanation.
The next hour was spent explaining the situation to the best of Shinichi's ability.
For once, Heiji was completely speechless.
"… That's… I… Kudo…" He groped uselessly for some sort of consoling words but was unsuccessful, and switched gears when he realized he couldn't say anything. "Is… can yer professor fix this?"
Shinichi sucked in a shaky breath before answering.
"… I don't know."
Those three simple words were terrifying. Things would have been very simple if she'd just had a normal delusion, but… since this seemed to be related to her kidnapping, that was no longer the case.
"Seriously, why now?" asked Heiji, snapping Shinichi from his thoughts. "I thought they hadn't messed with that part of her?" Shinichi absently shook his head.
"I don't know," he said again.
"D'ya think another knock on the head'll snap her out of it?" Shinichi might have laughed if the Osakan didn't sound so serious.
"Hattori…" he said, taking a breath for strength. "She's got a fractured skull—if anything, another blow might put her back into a coma if it doesn't kill her first."
"Just a thought," came the sheepish reply. They both sighed.
"Y'sure yer not cursed, Kudo?"
"Sometimes, I wonder."
"… That's it, I'm comin' up there," Heiji decided firmly. Shinichi didn't even have the energy to argue.
"Let's just… talk about this later," he ended up sighing. He hung up before the other teen could respond.
Looking around at what little he could see of his surroundings, he finally decided to drag himself out from his hiding spot. He didn't feel any better, and he highly doubted anything would lift his spirits at this point.
Maybe Haibara knows something… It's been long enough, right?
He made his way over to the professor's house to confront the small scientist, only to be dismissed almost as soon as he saw her.
"I'll be frank with you," said Haibara shortly after he walked into the lab. "I don't know what happened, or how to fix it." He opened his mouth, but she continued before he could say anything. "I'm looking over the brain scans from the hospital right now, and I will compare them to what we've collected from Ran-san before now, but you need to be patient."
Shinichi's shoulders slumped, and he was unable to respond since he had come to demand answers.
"Fine," he managed to mutter before he stalked moodily out of the lab, Haibara following to see him out. He stared at the front door, but found he couldn't make himself move towards it. Instead, he sat down on the professor's couch and stared blankly at the wall. Haibara hesitated a moment before awkwardly patting Shinichi's shoulder, then disappeared into the lab once more.
A few buzzes from the phone in his pocket suggested Heiji was still trying to talk to him. He sighed heavily into his hands.
Why is this happening? He pulled his knees to his chest and sank into the couch cushions. What am I supposed to—What do I do? What can I do?
He wanted to scream again. Screaming didn't help. It just made him feel worse. So he sat, curled into a tiny ball on the professor's couch.
He didn't go back to his house until well after the sun set. It was time to see If his clone had come to terms with the truth—he'd had more than enough time to review the footage, even if he hadn't seen all of it.
He slowly made his way back to the room he'd left the clone in.
The other Shinichi was right where he'd left him, sitting in front of the computer monitors and watching proof of Ran's existence. He was very pale, hand over his mouth, eyes fixed on the screen. It almost looked as if he was struggling not to throw up. Shinichi stepped forward, his weight making the floorboards creak despite his small size. The clone slowly turned to face him, a haunted look in his eyes.
"Give her back," said the shrunken teen, voice still weak from earlier. Not-Shinichi swallowed hard, shoulders quaking slightly.
"… I can't," he whispered.
xXx
It had taken all of Shinichi's self-control not to devolve into another fit of screams after the confrontation with his clone. At least he'd come to terms with the fact that Ran was there first, but that didn't mean much if he couldn't even bring her back.
He'd looked long and hard at the devastation on the other's face before turning on his heel, unable to hold his gaze without thinking about Ran.
"We'll discuss this tomorrow," he had said, too drained to feel much of anything besides weariness. He'd stared at the door to his room before adding, "You're in the second guest rom." He didn't want the other him in his room, and it didn't feel right for him to use Ran's room, either.
He hadn't bothered to look back before heading to his bedroom. It was going to be a long night.
Sleep did not come easily, despite Shinichi's exhaustion. He didn't want to think anymore, but his treacherous brain kept him awake and alert, thinking of everything he could do nothing about. He stared up at the dark ceiling, unsuccessfully trying to will his mind to calm down.
He didn't get any sleep that night.
The next morning was spent wearily trudging down the stairs at the unexpected knock at the door. He opened it and blankly stared up at the visitor, too tired and drained to even feel annoyed.
Hattori Heiji stared down with growing alarm at the the dark-circled, dead-eyed boy that was his equal. There wasn't any of the usual annoyance or clipped quips at the sudden arrival, and Heiji was certain Shinichi hadn't gotten any sleep at all. Not that he blamed him, but it was more than a little disturbing to see the Detective of the East so lifeless. When he didn't even react, Heiji nervously put up a hand in his usual greeting.
"Yo."
Most disturbingly, the only reaction he got was a slow, tired blink. The small teenager backed up just enough to let him in, but otherwise didn't say anything. No "What're you doing here?" or "You shouldn't have come." Nothing. Heiji awkwardly slipped inside and shucked off his shoes.
Shinichi didn't even put up a token protest. The silence was eerie.
Heiji crouched down to face his friend properly, noting how swollen his eyes were. He placed a hand on his small shoulder, trying to figure out what he could even say in this situation. Then, something happened that Heiji was certain wouldn't ever happen again in this lifetime.
In an incredibly rare show of vulnerability, Shinichi leaned forward, bumping his forehead into Heiji's arm with a soft "thump."
Heiji grimly pressed his lips together, smart enough to not make any of his usual wisecracks. If he could be a wall of support, even if only for a while, he'd more than gladly do it.
He looked up sharply at a movement from the corner of his eye, and locked stares with Subaru. The older man, just passing by it seemed, took in the scene for a brief moment before silently moving on, the grim look on his face wordlessly requesting Heiji do his best with the despondent teen.
Heiji watched him go, eyes warily following the man until he was out of sight. After a minute, he quietly scooped his small friend up and carried him to the living room. Shinichi didn't even make a sound. If it weren't for his ribs moving as he breathed, Heiji might've thought he was dead.
The room was thankfully empty, so Heiji sat down on the couch and set Shinichi on the cushion next to him.
They sat in more silence for a while until Heiji decided enough was enough.
"You said she wasn't dead," he said softly.
"… She's not…" His voice sounded painfully hollow.
"So why're ya actin' like she is?"
Shinichi said nothing, but did manage to slightly change his expression, a small frown tugging the corners of his mouth down. Heiji pushed on.
"I know yer hurtin', Kudo. I do. But if she's not dead, then mopin' isn't gonna do her any favors."
"She can't' come back," whispered Shinichi, staring wide-eyed at the wall. "I talked to—to him. He can't bring her back." Heiji sighed.
"T'be fair, the other Kudo technically didn't send Neechan away, either." Shinichi looked up sharply at that. He gave him a pointed look. "Think about it. The other Kudo couldn't have come out if he didn't exist, right?" A slow, unsure nod. "And we already know Neechan exists. So, all we need to do is find a way to bring her back out without givin' her another concussion. Right? Nothin' about this situation says she can't come back. We just need ta figure out how."
Shinichi stared wearily up at the Osakan, and Heiji was relieved to see a small amount of emotion seeping into the boy's empty expression: a tiny spark of hope. Heiji flashed him his best grin.
"In the meantime," he said with a stretch, "I think ya need to take a break. A bookstore or the park, maybe—I don't imagine yer too hungry. Can't blame ya, with as tasteless as Tokyo food tends to be…"
"… It's Monday," said Shinichi flatly.
"So?"
"So, I have school. And so do you."
"Yer not goin' to school today, Kudo," said Heiji, tone brooking no argument. "I'm intervening." Shinichi opened his mouth, but Heiji went on, poking a finger between the small boy's eyebrows. "Think on it—yer friends'll know yer 'cousin' woke up, but yer over here actin' like someone died."
"There's a little something called acting, Hattori, and I've been doing it for around half a year," snapped Shinichi as he batted Heiji's finger away.
"Considerin' that anyone with a decent set of smarts in 'em usually start questionin' yer identity after the first meeting, I'd say you weren't doin' too great in that department." He grimaced. "Granted, yer better at it than me, but I don't think that's sayin' much." Shinichi bit back a scoff.
"Since I am a better actor than you, I don't plan on skipping again—"
"Kudo, a blind person can tell yer not doin' so hot; you really think a bunch of children wouldn't be able to sense somethin's wrong?" Heiji gave Shinichi a pointed look, easing up a bit when he saw the words strike true. "I'm just givin' you a day. Nothin' more. You can pass it off as spendin' time with your conscious 'cousin,' but you just need a day to yerself where thinkin's not on the table. Where pretednin' isn't forced on ya so early that it won't work; and it WOTN'T work, guaranteed, if ya go to school today."
Shinichi deflated. He was right, and it hurt to admit that. He wasn't okay, and his emotions felt much too raw to be able to slap a mask on them so he could pretend things were fine. He blinked the grogginess out of his eyes with a frown, and said nothing for a very long time. He half expected Heiji to say something, but the Osakan seemed content just sitting on the couch while he waited for an answer, fingers idly tapping out a rhythm on his knee.
"… Fine," he managed to whisper after the minutes of silence. Heiji beamed at him. He scowled back before glancing up towards the second floor. "What about… him?"
"What about 'im? If he's really another you, he can take care of himself."
"… It's still Ran's body…"
"Listen, Kudo," said Heiji, leaning forward on the couch, "Yer worried. I get that. You can check in on 'im before we leave—I won't stop you. But ya can't make any excuses. Bein' here today isn't good for ya. If it'll make ya feel better, you can ask that Subaru guy to keep an eye on things. I assume he knows what's goin' on." Shinichi nodded. "Good. Now go get dressed. I'll wait here for ya, unless you want some extra company upstairs."
In response, Shinichi just silently slid off the couch and slowly sluggishly shuffled towards the stairs. He looked back at Heiji only once, the unsure hesitation mixing painfully with the desolate… lost expression, before heading up without saying anything.
Heiji waited until he was out of earshot before sighing heavily, shoulders slumping as he did so.
"I'm surprised you didn't just go up with him anyway," came a voice behind the Osakan. He nearly jumped out of his skin, lurching forward as he whipped his head around to see who'd ambushed him. Subaru stood there with his arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. Heiji relaxed only slightly.
"Yeah, well, I'm not really up ta seein' two Kudos with that expression," he said half truthfully. Unsaid was the fact that he himself wasn't ready to face that particular truth head on. Perhaps later that night, or even that evening, but certainly not at present.
"You really should be in school," said the older man. His tone was conversational, like he was talking about the weather. Heiji blinked away his confusion, having expected the adult to berate or accuse him. It was a little refreshing if he was being honest.
" 'S not like I can't make up the work," he said just as casually. "I can afford ta miss a few days, maybe a week." He wasn't sure his parents would let him miss the entire week, but he knew they knew he was smart enough to not technically be missing anything. As long as he got top marks, he doubted his folks would even mention his impromptu visit.
He fell back into the couch, watching Subaru out of the corner of his eye. Even though Shinichi had explained why the man knew about everything, and had vouched for him, the dark teen still felt rather leery. He didn't know this person, hadn't met him before this whole mess started. Something felt a bit… off to him, but he couldn't place what it was. Finally, he sighed.
"What do you do when ya don't wanna think about things?" he asked idly, turning back to look at the door Shinichi disappeared behind.
"I read," came the simply reply. "I'm really not the best person to ask, since I haven't been a teenager for a good many years." Subaru rubbed his chin absently. "Though, given the present situation… If you're going out, a place too crowded might make him feel isolated, while too few people poses the risk of idle thoughts. A movie, perhaps?"
Heiji grimaced. He'd come to a similar conclusion, himself. At the same time, he knew Shinichi's taste in movies, and as far as he knew, there wasn't anything out that the small teenager would like.
Museums are too quiet, he mused. Bookstore, maybe…? Nah, those're pretty quiet, too…
He sighed and pulled out his phone to check which movies were out, since that seemed the only viable option at the moment, and his eyes landed on an old theater showing reruns of Gomera movies. He did remember Shinichi once mentioning those were movies he liked…
Guess we're watchin' Gomera… Heiji nodded in satisfaction. The movies were pretty simple, adequately noisy, and required no complex thought process from the older viewers. It would do, and if Shinichi was as tired as those dark circles suggested, he might even get some sleep out of it.
He looked up at the sound of soft footsteps in the hall. Shinichi came in looking even more drained than when he'd left, which meant he'd probably looked in on the other Shinichi.
"You all set?" was all Heiji asked. Shinichi sighed in resignation and nodded. Heiji stood up and turned around to give Subaru his trademark 'I don't trust you' glare, only to find the man had already gone. He blinked, looked around suspiciously, then shrugged it off.
"C'mon," he said, herding Shinichi out the door.
"Where are we going?" asked the boy.
"Movies. There's some old Gomera flicks playin' nearby."
"And we couldn't do that here because…?"
" 'Cause yer chillin' with me today, an' I say we're goin' out."
Resigned to his fate, Shinichi let Heiji drag him outside, where a taxi sat waiting; the Osakan suspected that was Subaru's doing, and since the cabby didn't refuse them entry, he decided he wouldn't dwell on that too much.
They could have walked, but with Shinichi as drained as he was, it was probably for the best this way.
The movie itself was appropriately distracting, though Heiji kept an eye on the shrunken detective next to him, noting with a tight chest how the boy's eyes glistened in the light of the projector with unshed tears.
After a third of the movie had passed, Shinichi's fatigue finally caught up with him, alerting Heiji to that fact by passing out against his arm. He slept for the rest of the movie, and was coaxed awake just long enough to get into the taxi back home. He wouldn't wake up again, so the taller teen simply carried the sleeping not-child inside and upstirs to his room. He felt eyes on him, but ignored it in favor of getting Shinichi to a proper bed.
After making sure Shinichi wasn't going to wake up, Heiji left the room and closed the door as quietly as he could before he looked across the hall where the horribly familiar figure stood, watching him.
"… So, yer really another Kudo, then?"
The clone nodded slowly, almost as if he was unsure, himself. Heiji noticed he looked just as terrible as Shinichi did and he wasn't sure if it was from the current situation, the concussion, or both.
Not-Shinichi ran a shaky hand through his hair, halting at the bandages still wrapped around his head before turning away from Heiji's scrutiny.
"Sh-she's gone," he whispered. "Ran's… gone."
Heiji suppressed a shiver at the near identical reaction both Shinichis expressed. He shouldn't have been surprised, but it was still a bit jarring.
"I know," he said. "Kudo already told me."
Not-Shinichi flinched at the reminder that he was not, in fact, the real Shinichi. He held his head and crouched down, staring wide-eyed at nothing. His whole body trembled.
"She's… she's gone and it's my fault," he said, voice shaky. "It's—I can't—I-I don't know what to do!"
Heiji eyed the clone warily, but in the end decided not to think too hard about it. It's what he did best, after all—take things in stride, and ask questions later, if at all. He made his way to stand next to the other teenager, and leaned casually against the wall, staring absently at the ceiling.
"Y'don't hafta do anything," came the reply. Not-Shinichi flinched.
"Aren't you going to blame me, too?"
"Why? Do ya want me to?" At the silence, Heiji continued. "I might've if it were me an' Kazuha, but… well, it's not. Honestly, I'm not even sure what I'm supposed t'be feelin' right now." He shoved his hands in his pockets with a sigh. "You should get some sleep, too. Kudo'll probably be ready ta talk in a few hours."
A shaky nod was his only reply; the clone silently got up and went back to the guest room.
Heiji remained in the hall for a while, wondering exactly when everything went wrong.