Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan.
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Figures
-by Alena S. Anigor
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As brilliant as he was (because contrary to some people's popular belief, he was brilliant, dammit) he couldn't figure some things out.
He would find himself walking down the street with her, down the familiar route; doing usual things (that consisted mostly of them calling each other 'ahou') that would provoke her wrath and make her clobber him on the head. He would then apologize to her later, albeit clumsily (because he really wasn't good at apologizing), stuttering ever so slightly and not looking at her and that hopeful look in her eyes that would make him squirm inwardly.
And then her eyes would lighten up for a brief second, followed by a small, gentle smile that would make her cheeks turn pink and he would stare at her, dumbfounded.
And it wasn't really because she would forgive him and wave his insults off; she would always do that and he knew that she could never stay mad at him for too long...no, her smile and her eyes would always make his heart flutter slightly, skip a few beats and thump loudly in his chest that sometimes he was sure she could hear it as well. And he would lower his head slightly so she couldn't see his skin burn and tingle with a rising blush he couldn't really suppress for some odd reason.
She would turn around then and bid him farewell before disappearing behind the front door of her house, leaving him to try to catch his breath and wonder just why his body was reacting that way...
He just couldn't figure out what was it about her smile that would make his chest constrict and wake butterflies in his stomach.
And that was making him feel even more frustrated than any of their little fights or her personality quirks.
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As resourceful and skillful as he was (although to her belief, he was totally unable to take care of himself and she would force him to carry that omamori with him) he couldn't help but feel helpless and powerless when it came to her safety.
She would sometimes tag along, accompanying him to his cases, stubbornly declaring she was an aikido champ (and completely capable of taking care of herself, thank you very much) and making him glare heatedly at her back as she would confidently march in front of him, her ponytail swaying to and fro as she walked.
He knew she could take care of herself but that wouldn't stop him from keeping an eye on her all the time and ordering her to stay where she was when it came to chasing after the culprit.
She had come this close to death so many times because of him, and he had come this close to losing her because of her knack to always somehow end up in trouble, hanging off the high cliffs, or being knocked unconscious for the purpose of hanging from the ceiling, trapped in faux spider webs. Honestly, couldn't the girl simply follow his orders and spare him of a heart attack?
And he could never forget the feelings of horror, dread, desperation and fear he would feel every time she would do something so obviously stupid and dangerous just to help him.
He would forget to think, to blink, and to breathe - all he could see and hear was her and he would be blind to everything and everyone else in that moment, because in that moment, she would be the only thing that mattered. He would never say that to her and it had taken him some time to admit that to himself, but...he was positive he would fight and die and even take a life if necessary, just to keep her safe.
Because nothing could top the feeling of relief he would feel when she would bury her head in his chest and hold onto him tightly, sometimes sobbing into his shirt and sometimes just shaking in his embrace from the traumatic experience, no matter how brave or tough she wanted to look like. And he couldn't describe the emotions coursing through his chest, his heart and every fiber of his being because they were so powerful that they would always make him feel so weak and lightheaded and make him hold onto her as well as if his own life depended on it.
And no matter how many times he would find himself in danger, no matter how many times he would have to help Kudou out of trouble, he would never feel so scared, helpless and worried about them and then feel so relieved when they were okay.
He would fret and worry and be willing to die and kill for her...only for her...And he couldn't for the love of God, figure out why she was so important to him...why she mattered to him that much or what was so special about her that he would turn the planet upside-down to find her.
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As much as he considered himself to be a cool, composed person (according to her, he was an impulsive, reckless ahou!) for some odd reason his cool, composed nature would fly out the window every time he would see her talking and smiling to her peers...her male peers.
His gaze would automatically darken; his eyes narrow, his fists would clench and his feet carry him to where they would stand and all that without his brain actually consenting to his actions. And then he would stand like that next to them, with her glaring back at him and him glaring at the other male (he wasn't glaring, really, he was just observing her classmate...to see if he was perhaps a potential serial killer/rapist/robber) which would, of course, make the potential serial kill-I mean, her classmate back away from them slowly, sweatdrop at the murderous aura around both of them and pretty much turn around to run for his life if he wanted to live to see another day.
That, of course would always result in her turning around to look at him slowly, thunder and lightning gathering in her eyes and they would turn an alluring shade of dark green before she would release her wrath and start screaming at him.
He would always defend himself with valid reasons (The guy was looking at her oddly and his body language was giving away his shady intentions!) and she would screech at him (They were talking about the next aikido championship, for crying out loud!) until they would both end up yelling original, innovative words at each other (Ahou! Ahou! Ahou! Ahou!!) and make the rest of the students place best on who would give up first.
She would then sulk at him for the rest of the day, refusing to look at him, speak to him and even walk home with him and he would end up tagging along, sighing heavily in annoyance at her ponytail that would stubbornly wave back and forth just like she would stubbornly march down the street, ignoring his feeble attempts to start up a conversation with her.
In the end, he would give up and give her some time to cool off, knowing very well that tomorrow she would appear on his doorstep, ring his doorbell and yell at him to get his lazy ass down there because they would be late for school.
But still, he couldn't quite understand why he always reacted that way...He had no problems seeing her with her friends...as long as her friends weren't other guys. Something would simply crack inside of him then, and that odd, odd feeling would appear suddenly and make him do the oddest things.
And he just couldn't figure out what those feelings were or why they appeared every time he thought some other guy was trying to take her away from him and...wait...
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Kudou Shinichi, currently posing as Edogawa Conan, deadpanned at the puzzled, bewildered look on his face when he suddenly stopped with his little tirade about just how confusing and irritating Toyama Kazuha was.
"Uh..." was the smart addition to the said tirade after which he scratched his head and blinked at his smaller companion that was sitting next to him on a bench. And then he blinked again.
Shinichi/Conan just snorted and shook his head. Being too small to reach up to clobber him on the head, he just sighed and gave him a dry look.
"You're really hopeless, you know that?" He asked, shaking his head slowly. "I really don't understand what she sees in you."
"Huh? What are you talking about, Kudou?" Heiji retorted with a question of his own, frowning at the semi insult. Shinichi/Conan resisted the urge to smack his forehead (he would smudge his glasses in the process) and chose to stand up, coming face to face with the tanned detective of the East.
"You love her, you idiot!"
There was a brief silence, accompanied by heavy breathing and blank stares. And then:
"Bwahahahahahahaha!" Came the intelligent reply of the taller boy as the smaller boy glared at the specks of saliva on his lenses. He carefully took them off and started wiping them with a handkerchief, staring murderously at the laughing detective.
"Yeah, right!"
Shinichi/Conan just sighed after putting his glasses back on his nose and sunk back down into the solid wood of the bench, ignoring the fits of laughter from his right side.
"Figures...I give up. I'm too old for this."
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a/n
This is something that just popped up suddenly into my head (it was an attack of a random, lost plot bunny...) and then it wouldn't go away so I had to write it down. It's completely random, plot-less and I don't even know what the plunnie had in its mind, but hey - I'm just a tool of the Evil Plot Bunny Association... XD
Ahh...still, it felt kind of good to peek inside the DC fandom again...I missed HeijixKazuha ahou-fluffiness! XDD