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Water drop drops into the sink, splashes layers of waves.

Miyano Shiho watches her own reflection on the water's surface being distorted silently. She grasps the white towel by her side, begins to dry her wet, wavy, dark brownish hair. She pulls the metal torsion bar up. The plug at the bottom of the sink been removed. The water pours into the pipeline, utters the sound of wind, created a small swirl slowly.

She sighs, open the bathroom's door. Her pale white feet left some water drop on the rug, maybe she didn't dry it completely- She is too tired, for kept working for twenty four hours and came home in the sun raising light.

Well, instead of the word 'home', maybe the 'residence' fits more in her situation. This penthouse is placed at the top of a superior apartment in the center of Tokyo. She moved here after marriage, with Kudo Shinichi.

"This place has a great view of the city." At the first night living here, she looked at the city light from the French window, nodded to oneself. White, orange, yellow, blue, and red, green. Half sky has been lighted up, and finally the darkness. The darkness at the top of the sky and in this room.

Kudo Shinichi already fallen sleep not far away. Her words were the only sound in this penthouse, spread to every corner in the house, with a bit loneliness. Romantically she took a red wine and a goblet out from the glass-made wine cabinet. She hoped someone would share it with her; otherwise she would wake up with headache and an empty bottle.

Someone who should has been asleep opened his eyes quietly, and frowned looking at her back figure. Then he used one hand to hold up his body, and then stood up. The other hand seized Shiho's waist, pulled her to stumble into their soft king size together. The goblet failed on to the rug, and unfinished wine spread on the brand new rug. But no one cared.

They had fun for one whole night, but when Shinichi woke up in the next morning, he saw the empty penthouse. Empty house, empty goblet, partly red rug and the bed sheet. Made his heart empty.

He got up and got ready for the work, and he walked into the kitchen. He saw the sandwiches sealed in the fridge. Pressing his forehead, he put the sandwiches into the microwave, waiting for it to heat up. He was thinking about that yellow sticky note Shiho has left on the bedside for him. He knew she cares about him, and he knew she just doesn't use to put her emotion outside. Her tender and love, everything is inside in her body.

He knew, but he couldn't feel it. He just couldn't.

For some reason, they married because they needed someone to be in their life. They lived together so they can take care of each other. They had sex, for being normal adult.

He couldn't even feel he has a family now. He couldn't feel he is married. Not a bit. True, he is attracted by Miyano Shiho, and he loved her without any doubt. Between them is true love. However, when he sees her emotionless face expression, he has no word. Everything, the words in his belly, or right on his tongue, will be put back to wherever.

He knew she just doesn't show her emotion, and he knew she has a hot blooded heart, and he knew who has her heart. She just being 'dark organized'. He just couldn't ignore her outside expression, and let it stood between them two.

In his heart, in his thought and by what he has been taught, marriage has a meaning. It is, when he comes home from work, his wife will come out from the kitchen. She will hand over the slippers, puts up his beg, helps him take his coat off, and then told him what is for the dinner.

He knew these things won't happen, won't if he marry Miyano Shiho. He was willing to give up these; he didn't even expect any of these from her. But he couldn't help it.

Her face, her hair, and her eyes… with the sweetest smile he could imagine. He used all his force to try to stop the thought, but it was like a violence eruption versus an underpass cover.

Her smile. It was in his brain, in his sleep, in his past. She doesn't smile much. It was rare but a true treasure. As the time past, her smile got less and less. Since the revenants of the dark organization; since Mouri Ran got killed; since Kudo Shinichi canceled his wedding with Ran; since he fall in love with Shiho.

Once he was thinking about her with the smile in her face, thought about it for a long time. Suddenly he found himself thinking about Ran. Ran, the one he has known for more than ten years and died the day before their wedding.

He doesn't like her any more. He has his full heart with Shiho. But he was thinking about her with the kind of smile he liked.

After all, he wanted to be the strong back of his woman. He wanted to protect his woman. And then he loved someone who didn't need it.

Shinichi lays on the king size by himself. He is too lazy to get up and pull the curtains of the French window. The lights, these warm lights with few cold lights come into the room. Empty.

His hand brushes the bed sheet, where Shiho normally sleeps. He hugs the pillow that belongs to another person, and smells her odor. Which the smell he loved. In his head was her silken, tea colored hair. The hair gives the waves that are moving him. And, her lips with a beauty smile.

The next morning he hid in the kitchen, listening to the sound of the key, whirling in the lock. Then the footsteps. And few minutes later, the sound of the water, the shower.

Shiho's hair hasn't dry yet, but she already fall into the king size. She can feel a temperature that is still left on the sheet. She can smell his body's smell. It is very clean and refreshing. She also loved his eyes, the warm clean blue.

She knew Shinichi doesn't like her being out all night working, but she thought working is the only use of her.

"You'll get bareheaded if you use your brains too much." The first time she worked over the night, he said that. She said that to him before and then it was his turn to say it to her.

"Making hair restorer is pretty easy for me." She answered without looking him, walked straight to the bathroom. Even though she said that, but she decreased her frequency of working all night as much as possible.

Shinichi frowned looking at her tall thin back, then pulled his tie, walked back to the kitchen.

It was her first time she worked over night when she is living with him. However they never need to say: "I am going to make you breakfast." Or "can you make some food for me?"

They know each other and they know what each other wants when they look at each other. The silence filled up the house. These two people aren't so talkative, they don't work together. So, even they live together, and they take care and being taken care of by each other, the house still filled with silence without awkwardness.

They face their love with no speaking. Sometimes they may want to say something, but too scared if another thinks them verbiage. They understood another, but didn't try to hug.

Although, they both love the feeling when they come home, they'll see the lights' on. They will see another wearing at will, doing their own stuff. They'll say, "I am home." And get the response: "welcome home."

How simple.

Certainly, sleep with wet hair with get a cold. Professor Miyano proves the theory once again. She rolled with the quilt, shrink herself to a ball. Kudo Shinichi pours a few pills from the medicine bottle, pours a glass of warm water, and gives it to Shiho.

Shiho used water to bring the pills to the stomach, then slowly taking sip of warm water from the glass. When she finishes she gives it back to Shinichi, then lay down aside to sleep.

He is worrying. Nevertheless he already felt this before, not long after they meet.

He has never get cold this serious, and his childhood friend Mouri Ran was a really healthy person too. He hasn't saw anyone could get that kind of cold like Haibara Ai has got. At a moment he thought Haibara would stop breathing because it looks so hard for her to breath.

He fills up the glass with warm water, and put the medicine bottle back. He sees his woman sleeping like a kitty. So, so, small… His mind can't think like there is a piece of paper covered it up. His moves are hard and robotic. He gets on to the bed, toward his woman.

Open his arm, and hugs her. He pushes her into his embrace.

"Don't you know colds can be infected?" She trembles a bit.

He doesn't response, but hugs her harder. His forehead places by her snow white neck. Then he moves his lips close to her neck, feeling her seldom hot body temperature.

This person will never be a classic Japanese wife as he has imagined. She will not be soft as Mouri Ran. If she isn't sick, she won't let him hugs her like this neither.

He will never be the man who will protect his woman.

He looks at Shiho. Her face is different to normal Japanese, and taller than regular girls in Japan, and thin. Still he loves her. He cannot control the feeling for her. And he will never choose to left her alone even Mouri Ran is standing right beside him. He won't give any attention to Ran either.

He and she may never made this penthouse fills up with the smell of normal family. They aren't romantic. They won't sit together in the sofa and watch movies. They won't use any time to bake together. She won't hand him slippers, put up his beg, or help him take off his coat. Almost every day he wakes up will face an empty room. The sticky notes will always be the main communication between them.

But this is their home already.

This is the home of two of them.

END