Disclaimer: If I owned Detective Conan you wouldn't be reading this disclaimer. But you are. So okay.

I'm eighteen when I consider feeding a rabbit Trix. Seriously contemplating it. Technically considered an adult, but also technically not, and also technically expected to know better. Research and websites discuss ingredients, advise against it, but also say it'll only give the rabbit a mildly upset stomach unless it eats way too much.

Agasa's had this rabbit in his yard for approximately two months. He can't catch it, but it doesn't leave, so he feeds it. He's scared to find the thing lifeless, killed over from something he accidentally threw out. So he wants it caged. Gone, if he can't protect it. Him feeding it might be why it hasn't left, but he can't bring himself to stop for reasons mentioned earlier.

I set up a trap. The old but reliable box propped up on a stick connected to the string in my hand.

And Trix as bait.

The rabbit approaches, sniffs the air, and extends his upper body as far as it can go toward it. Back legs joining in a hop, it paws closer. Nose inquiring, and I think I'm a genius when it's ears fold back to reach under the box, and it's nearly tasting natural and artificially fruit flavored corn puffs.

"Is Shinichi here?"

And I jump. Alerting the rabbit to my presence. Cursing inwardly I attempt to again blend into the pots and plants and lawn when Agasa tells Ran I'm in the back.

Gee

Thanks.

I pretend I don't notice her coming like I'm not the detective she knows I am. It doesn't faze her. She kneels to my side, not saying hello, cause she knows I know, and is actively avoiding pointing out the jerk I'm being.

"Hi," she greets anyway. It's been probably six minutes.

"Hey," I reply.

The rabbit knows we're here now. Peeks from the bush, and spends an extra minute than her just staring at us.

"Is that going to work?"

"Yes."

It's not.

"Got good bait?" She picks up the cereal box I'd set aside earlier

"The package promises it's irresistible."

"It's a year expired."

It is. Cause it's the cereal the kids wanted to try. Imported from America, and Conan had the money from his parents, so Ran agreed to buy it as the only adult in the room at the time.

"The rabbit doesn't know the difference."

"The rabbit shouldn't eat this."

"It'll be fine."

"Grow up," she says, not looking at me.

No.

I hold the string tighter. She keeps saying that. Grow up. As if it hasn't been a year. As if I don't have my body back. As if I'm not here, and I'm starting to hold those words against her.

I sigh, cast my gaze downward, so she won't see my eyebrows knitted like a headache's growing between them, because there is.

Because I can't dislike her for it. For anything. It's her revenge, I know. It's myself I can't stand. She's too good to call me on it, but I can't snap back. Can't be who she remembers. Instead some hybrid stands in my place. Not Shinichi. Not Conan. I can't stand it. Can't understand why it's not second nature. Like I have to act in order to be myself. Dance in my own footsteps like all those times I had a temporary fix. Be me pretending like Conan isn't also me. Pretending nothing's changed.

But I have changed, and I can hear her staring at me.

She want's to ask, always does, never does it.

And I want to assure her, tell her the words under Big Ben still weigh the same, if not more in my heart. But I can't, and it's okay if she roundhouses me into oblivion for it, but she doesn't do that either.

The words jam in my throat, and I swallow them back down. Grimacing because repeating isn't healthy when you lose count.

I don't want to assure her, give her hope that the me under Big Ben is the same as the me now, because that person is a stranger now. She doesn't deserve a stranger. She deserves a good life, two kids because she likes the idea of siblings. Maybe a dog, probably a cat. Cozy nights by the fire, cause she enjoys immersing herself in tiny moments. And a h... husband. Someone who loves her, who won't lie to her. Someone she can trust.

I died a little thinking about it. Just a little. Because she'd be happy -and to the highest extent the cliché can go- if she's happy, I'm happy.

But I also know I'll die alone. Ai might send a postcard. But I'll go bald like I deserve. Senile. Yelling at kids to get off my lawn, etc.

"What do you plan to do with it?" she asks like I hadn't just plotted our future from here to end.

I shrug. The cage Agasa had it in fell apart. It's why we're here now.

"We could," she pauses and I wonder if she'll change we to you. "go by the pet shop."

I shouldn't be relieved, but thank God.

The rabbit bobs his head into the clearing, curious about the Trix, but still wary of us.

I nod and take a deep breath because I forgot to breathe.

Ran takes a deep breath herself and I stiffen. "Listen." My mind backpedals. Beginning any sentence in any language with a word that demands attention also demands a confrontation. I think about leaving. Never dealing with whoever we are now, also keeps whatever we are, at wherever it is. Putting a label to it makes it real, and I'm not sure I can handle it.

But she's gathering courage. The right words. And I can't take that away from her either.

"Can we discuss the time when you were Conan?"

She says it so fast I feel the wind knocked out of me. A punch to the gut with her words, her karate at its best.

It worries her that I'm silent. Wide-eyed staring at the rabbit, but not. Because there's a flash before my eyes that's probably my soul leaving its body. A soon to be crime scene.

But it's not, cause she elbowed my head.

"Sure," I tell her. Wincing since it hurt, both the word and my head.

The rabbit puts a paw out, stopping after doing so like it makes him invisible.

"I gave it some thought." She threads her fingers together, watching as they wind in and over each other. "And I don't want to be yelling at you years from now when I suddenly remember something you did as Conan, because right now all I can think to address is," and she almost mutters, "bath time."

Bath time. Bubbles. Water. No clothes. Naked. They were naked. She was naked. And that image really doesn't belong in my head right now.

My face is warm so I hide it in my palm. She looks away, partially pleased to find I'm mortified if her silence means anything.

"So I want to do this in order. Starting from when we met." She meets my sidelong gaze. "I always thought... I thought maybe Conan was you. But the thought and your face didn't match, so it was easy to separate you... sometimes. And it's not fair because you always knew how I was, but I could never be sure about you. Thinking back there are times Conan would look terrified. He played it off, and I believed him. Then he... you would look at me. I chalked it up to a child's limited vocabulary, 'maybe he's frustrated he doesn't know the right word' but actually there were probably a million things running through your head. Sometimes I feel like there are. Like lately..."

Lately being a year, and no, this is probably the least I've thought of anything since birth.

"I want to hear it from you. Tell me what it was like being Conan. A deduction show of how you did it."

Deduction shows reveal a criminal, but that's okay, she can imply that. I could refuse. She requests as if it's her right. Something I owe her. I do owe her, but she asks so easily like it's a sort of apology for breaking her phone. Like I didn't shatter her heart.

The rabbit perks its ears toward us, already halfway there, nose wiggling in a comfortable metronome.

"Day one?"

She jerks her head, a confident nod that looks more confident than she actually is. I know her better than that. She's all nerves today. So am I, but lately that's everyday.

Lately being two years, and nothing is making it better yet.

Tropical Land, roller coaster, murder. "I think it was Vodka." Her breath caught. It makes sense she wouldn't remember seeing them. Someone died. It was traumatizing. The suspects were the last thing on her mind. "Gin and Vodka were on the roller coaster. Suspicious beyond all reason, but not the criminals in that incident. Vodka passed us later, and that's when I left. Found him completing an illegal transaction. Took pictures." I rubbed the back of my head on instinct. "Gin caught me. Bashed me over the head. And it's unclear... but I suppose that's when he got the drug down my throat." Suddenly I realized. "They stole my camera." It had a picture of us under the fireworks. Of her with that perfect smile after she tried a parfait she dubbed her favorite that day. I liked that. Liked that picture. They probably burned it, crushed it. Crushed and burned it. Jerks.

"Shinichi?"

Oh, right.

"Officers woke me." I scoffed, a hint of a smile at the absurdity. "I thought I was a corpse. Half expected to hear an autopsy reading. They kept saying boy, boy, and I didn't understand even when they picked me up. Literally lifted me over their heads. They thought it was a joke when I told them about the men in black. And then I met a mirror." My morbid smile faded. Memories sowing fresh wounds in my mind once more. "Conan was useless. For everything he could do there were ten he couldn't. Tired easily. And worthless without those gadgets. I'd lose them, break them, forget them. Because I never needed them before. And I'd forget how important it was that Conan not separate from his special shoes."

I didn't know how tense I was till she placed a hand against my back. Probably asking me to stop, because I'm too bitter for her taste. Slightly cynical. Slightly new. Slightly Conan.

I chanced a glance at her, gauging how fast she would flee, but she looked... sad. Not pity. I didn't deserve pity. But I also didn't deserve... compassion. The smallest tilt of her smile that encouraged me to continue.

I had to look away. Tried to relax.

"Agasa demanded I keep Conan a secret. Even from you." Her hand did leave that time. I kind of couldn't take it. "I'm sorry."

It's probably the thirtieth time those words went from me to her since I came back. It's not going to make up for it. Ever. But I don't know what else to say.

A time I apologized too many times came to mind. Ran wailing a room away from her family where the walls were too thin between us and them.

I'm sorry doesn't make a lie better. Lies bleed, they don't scar, they don't heal.

We didn't talk for four months after that.

Now we're here, and logic is making less sense today than usual. She basically said she hated me. But today sounds like she's trying. Four months not long enough to burn a lesson into her mind, I figured. Or insanity. Trying the same thing repeatedly, expecting a different result.

The rabbit retreated closer to the bush.

Maybe I'm insane.

"Why Conan?" Ran asked. She's still here. "Why that name?"

I made a vague gesture with my hands. "The bookshelf. Behind me at the time; Edogawa Rampo, Conan Doyle. Almost was Rampo Doyle, but luckily my mind associated Rampo with Rambo quick enough that I realized I'm not not fit or blood thirsty."

She giggled. How did she understand that reference? I was too thankful for a turnabout to ask.

"Your father's a detective. Agasa suggested I use the agency as a cover to nose into the Organization's business. Seek information. Or he just pawned me off on you, either's possible."

"Thank you for that."

I blinked. What? I turned to face her fully, but she turned away.

"Thank you for not exposing Dad as a lie. I suspected it wasn't him when I suspected you were Conan. The whole thought to face not matching again." She almost smiled.

The Organization went down anonymously. Only the FBI, CIA, and select members of the police aware of the entire showdown. No one outside of family and friends involved in Conan's life were aware of the truth. Of a war that should have gone worldwide.

Afterwords the sun still wanted to rise. Nothing changed much, except me taking the antidote. Kogoro's said to be losing his touch, a regular daytime insomniac. Everyone welcomed me back. And Heiji visits more often because Ran won't and he doesn't like me sulking or not eating or whatever this lethargic feeling is right now.

"Then I brought you home," she stated, lingering on the last word like she was chasing a stray thought.

The walk home. Her calling me a name that wasn't mine. Me struggling to even hold her hand. I peered down at said hand. A reddish hue spread to her fingertips. I followed up her arm to her face. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes darted this way and that, and she was flushed from head to toe.

Oh?

My eyebrows slowly rose.

Oh.

Soon my face flushed.

And it was ridiculous because we were a couple of blushing teenagers. I'm an adult. Technically.

She couldn't mean those words anymore though. I sat back, leaning on one hand for support. She should leave. I should leave. One of us should leave.

"You weren't suppose to hear it like that."

Standing on ice hoping it won't crack, I waited tentatively for her to go on.

After an amount of time I deemed too long I said, "you can take it back." Was that a tone riddled in defeat? "I know you don't— it's not the same." Ice water is cold. Am I breathing?

Ran's voice quivered slightly as she spoke up. "Do you want me to?"

No.

I shouldn't say no. It'll give her hope.

"No." I bit my tongue the word escaped so fast. My mouth is betraying me.

"Really?"

"Yes."

Shut up.

"Okay."

She said okay, but it felt like she confessed all over again. Still, I had to be sure.

"Is it really okay?"

"You're an idiot."

I faltered. Grip slipping, I fell flat on my back. "Wh—" I breathed. "What's that—?"

"But yes." She smiled. Actually smiled, and it's the first thing to captivate me in years. "I love you."

Mouth hanging open, I could only stare. What does this mean? Should I do something? Does she expect me to do something? What's the next step people take after hearing that? I've begrudgingly sat through enough of Sonoko's cheesy movies to know I should be doing something other than gaping at her like a fish.

Ran kissed my cheek, and stood up saying, "the rabbit's gone," before she left.

It was, so was the Trix, but I still didn't move for hours.

A/N

I don't usually write like this, so if you're hoping for more work like this, then you'll soon discover the fanfiction on my profile that I created in middle school, and you'll probably be disappointed.

I probably won't continue this. But feel free to toss out ideas of where this could go, it might spark something.

Thank you for reading.