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?”


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.


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