Walking With Death
A Detective Conan Fanfic
By Jaelle
Disclaimer: Not mine. Gosho Aoyama
owns all.
Spoilers: None.
Pairings: None.
Rating: PG-13. Darkfic.
Setting: Post-series.
A/N:
Been reading a couple of fics lately which refered to Shinichi/Conan as
the bad luck kid, and it occurred to me that if you hang around death
that long, it won’t be long before some of it splashes off on you in
some way. I think similar things have been done before, but never mind,
this is MY take on it.
A dark figure slipped away from the
flashing lights of the police cars and ducked down an alleyway.
“How’d it go?” a low voice
questioned from the shadows.
“Everything went fine,” the larger
figure replied. “All according to plan, like usual.”
There was a grunt of
acknowledgement and then the sounds of a cigarette being lit.
The larger figure leaned back
against the wall of the alleyway. “You shouldn’t smoke so much.”
The slighter figure pushed his long
hair back over one shoulder and ignored his companion. “Did you see her?”
“Nope.”
Another grunt.
The
first man watched his companion finish his cigarette and carefully stub
out the butt, placing it into a container to be thrown away somewhere
far away from the scene of the crime. Shoving the container into a
pocket somewhere in the depths of his black trenchcoat, he turned his
back. “Later.”
“Hey,” a hand reached out and
caught his shoulder and he swivelled instantly, shrugging free and
stepping out of reach.
“Don’t touch me,” he breathed.
“Don’t EVER touch me.”
The taller man put his hands up
placatingly. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. It’s just... when will I see you
again?”
The man’s voice was taut with
anger. “I’ll contact you.”
“Damn it, Kudo...”
“It’s Shin now, Hattori. Just Shin.
Kudo is dead.”
Heiji
Hattori growled under his breath, “I’m NOT calling you Shin, Shi,
Shinigami or whatever other stupid, overdramatic pseudonym you’re using
this week. I couldn’t even remember Conan!” He folded his arms. “Your
name is KUDO. And I’m worried about you. You can’t keep on like this,
hiding in the shadows, solving crimes from a distance, never coming
close enough to contact anyone. Your parents are terrified and neechan
is worried sick about you. You need to TALK to someone.”
“I can’t,” Shinichi Kudo moved into
the light, and it illuminated his pale, gaunt face. “Hattori, I can’t. You know that better than anyone.”
Heiji gritted his teeth. “I don’t
care what you say, death isn’t catching. It’s not some entity that follows you
around. You are not responsible for these deaths!”
“If
I’m not, then who is?” Shinichi’s eyes were haunted. “They’re
everywhere I go. If it’s not me causing them, then what is it?”
“It’s
because you hang out in slums like this!” Heiji gestured around him
angrily. “You need to get out of here. You look half-dead yourself.
When was the last time you ate?”
Shinichi stepped back into the
shadows.
“Wait, Kudo...” Heiji stepped
forward.
A hollow whisper. “Don’t come after
me. You promised.”
Heiji
paused, torn between the need to grab his friend before he lost him,
and the fear that if he betrayed his oath, he would never see him
again.
“Promise. Promise you won’t come
hunting me again.”
“I can’t promise that. I’ll keep coming after you Kudo. You need a
friend.”
“I don’t. Stay away. Death walks with me.”
“Kudo, I’m not going to die because I see you. It’s been tried,
remember, and I’m still here.”
“It can’t last. You have to promise you’ll stay away.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll run.”
“I’ll find you.”
“Hattori, damn it...”
“You promise. Promise you’ll contact me at least once a month if
I let you go now and stop trying to find you.”
“...”
“Give
me that much. Give me something I can take back to the people who love
you. It’s little enough. You can’t possibly hurt them just by letting
them know you’re still alive. Swear to me that you’ll do that, and I’ll
stop hunting you down.”
“I swear.”
“I promise.”
“I’ll contact you next month then.”
“Kudo! Wait!”
“Kudo is dead.”
Heiji
slowly stepped back. Grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket he
withdrew several 5000 yen notes, and folded them carefully. “Get
something to eat,” he said harshly. “And some sleep. And cut your hair,
you look like shit.” He carefully wedged the notes into a gap in the
wall. “I’ll hear from you next month?”
“Next month,” Shinichi’s weary
voice answered. “Unless something comes up sooner.”
Heiji nodded. “Later.”
“Stay safe,” it was barely a
whisper.
Heiji
closed his eyes briefly, before turning and walking away. It was
getting harder every time to just leave the other man behind. Kudo was
getting worse and worse. Looking back he supposed it shouldn’t have
been a surprise when it happened. Burn out, the cops called it. Kudo
had simply seen too much death, too much destruction. He’d been exposed
to the darker side of human nature for so long, that he’d lost hope.
Even the final destruction of the Black Organisation had given him a
only brief respite, a brief hope that things might be different.
“Hattori!” Heiji looked up as Ran
Mouri sprinted over to him. “I heard that you were here, is... is
Shinichi...?”
He avoided her eyes. “He’s okay,”
he said, stretching the truth to its thinnest point. “He asked about
you.”
“That’s good, right?” Ran’s smile
was hanging on by a thread. “Right? Did he sound like he was coming
home soon?”
Heiji rested a hand on her
shoulder. “You shouldn’t be in this neighbourhood alone. I’ll walk you
back.”
“Hattori...” Her eyes pleaded with
him.
“He’s okay,” he repeated. “He’ll be
fine.”
He
hoped Kudo could see her from the alleyway. Maybe it would help. Of
course, it was more likely that he’d already left, but he still had
hope, even if Kudo’s was gone.
Stay safe, huh? Heiji thought to
himself. Of course I’ll stay safe. And I’ll keep neechan and your
parents and everyone else safe too.
Someone has to show you that
they can survive whatever ill luck seems to follow you around. Someone
has to show you that there’s hope. Someone has to show you that there’s
life.
Maybe it’s true that Death does
walk with you.
But that doesn’t mean we have to
let him lead the way.
End