Mikau: Hey there guys! This one was written for Poirot Café's Prompt Exchange 3. I would have put it in the Mausoleum collection, but it's too big. Once it's over 2k, it needs to go be its own fic, so…here we have "Impact". I had never really written Yusaku and Yukiko before, but this was really fun. Yusaku might seem a little different than you're used to in canon, but in this story he's dealing with situations you don't normally see him in in canon, so I think my characterization choices make sense. Anyway. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: DCMK is the intellectual property of Aoyama Gosho, and the prompt for this fic was sent in by stelraetnae on Poirot Café.

…

Impact

The little blue corvette came flying around the corner on two wheels, and all Kudo Yusaku could do was brace for impact before the sports car T-boned his passenger's side, sending his head slamming against the window.

Glass fragments showered down upon him like diamond dust, but the pain had yet to register. He was still in shock from the collision, but he had a feeling that once that wore off, he'd be in a world of hurt. After all, he could smell blood, and he was betting it was his own.

Two conflicting thoughts entered his mind. The first was that he should probably crawl out of the vehicle and wriggle away to safety, lest the car catch on fire and explode with him still inside. The only problem with that was the dizzying disorientation he was experiencing. His vision was blurry and doubled—Where had his glasses gone?—and he couldn't quite tell which way was up. He didn't remember his car flipping, but…right now he couldn't be sure.

The second thought was that he should stay still until help came because the excruciating pain was kicking in, making his injuries seem infinitely more seriously than he had originally thought. He shouldn't risk moving in case he had a spinal injury. Would he even be able to move if he did? He had researched spine injuries for a short story once before—the one where the criminal pretended he hadn't recovered after an accident in order to establish an alibi—but now the knowledge was lost to Yusaku amid the swirling vortex of pain.

Still, he decided to stay as still as possible so that his brains didn't fall out of his skull. That seemed to be where all the blood was coming from. He could feel it trickling, hot and metallic, down the side of his face.

He needed an ambulance, but there was no way he could reach a phone in this state. Hopefully some nice shopkeeper had seen the crash and had already taken care of that. He was in a fairly peopled shopping district during the busy lunch hour, so surely someone had witnessed his calamity and phoned the police.

Speaking of lunch, he hadn't had any yet. He hoped the hospital food was fit for human consumption.

All this flew through his mind in a little less than one discombobulated minute which was just about enough time for a flustered yet unharmed Fujimine Yukiko to fight her way past the airbag and out of the cute little blue corvette.

Screaming, "Oh my God! Oh my God! I didn't even see you! I thought I could beat the yellow light, but—oh my God!" she rushed to the other driver's side, hoping she wouldn't find a corpse.

Yukiko, a rising star, had started off playing bit parts in whatever movie or drama she could get, and that had sometimes meant being "the victim". She'd been bloodied up, decomposed—the whole nine yards. She'd even done a small role on a medical drama in which the makeup had been rather gory, but none of that had prepared her for the sight of so much blood pouring down an otherwise handsome young man's face.

She stifled a scream and tried to convince herself that it was just because it was a head wound. Head wounds bled a lot. He could still be fine, right? She hadn't killed him for sure yet.

Yes! His eyes were blinking! He was moving! He was still alive!

Yukiko focused her adrenaline-fueled rush of energy on shouting at the rubbernecking sandwich shopkeeper to call an ambulance while she stayed by the young man's side and tried to encourage him to hang on to consciousness.

…

Yusaku knew it was all over when he saw the angel.

Everything was a fuzzy, blurry-colored mass, but he could just make out her face—those raindrop blue eyes full of fear, that honeycomb blonde hair falling across her face as she bent over…

And she was saying something he could barely make out. "Can you hear me?! Hey! I'm sorry! Just try to stay conscious! Help is on the way, okay?! No! Don't close your eyes! Hey! Just listen to my voice, okay?! Please, please don't die! Stay with me!"

Stay with her? He really, really wanted to, but…his eyelids were getting heavy, the colors draining from his vision. Even the faint sound of her voice was becoming muffled and garbled.

Yusaku was fading.

…

The angel was still there by his side when he opened his eyes. She was sitting at his bedside in an uncomfortable-looking chair reading a book wearily amid the beeping of machines and the scent of antiseptic.

Yusaku tried to move, tried to say something, but his mouth was dyer than a rock garden, and his body was sluggish and difficult to maneuver. He vaguely remembered the accident and supposed that painkillers were keeping him from truly feeling its effects. He expected a ruthless headache as soon as they wore off. He could feel the bandages wrapped tightly around his head, so he supposed his brains hadn't been dashed out after all. He'd just have to be thankful, then.

He was stiff from being jostled about and fully expected achiness later, but really his only complaint was the head wound and the vision issues which signaled a concussion—all things that would improve given time. The most important thing was that he was alive…and there was a beautiful young woman sitting at his bedside.

Yusaku attempted to clear his throat, but it didn't go very well. He was absolutely parched, and the sound came out more strangled than anything. Fortunately, the young woman heard and took notice of his situation.

"Oh!" Yukiko gasped, dropping her book as she flew out of her chair and rushed to his side. "Thank God you're awake!" She smiled kindly as she hurried to the door, assuring him, "I'll go get a nurse."

Yusaku was about to tell her that she could just use the nurse call button, but Yukiko was already out in the hallway, calling to a passing attendant. "Oh, nurse! He's awake! Won't you get somebody for us, please? Thank you so much."

Yukiko turned back to him with another calming smile, coming over to his side as she reported, "She said they'll be right there." Her countenance darkened slightly. Her eyes narrowed and her brow creased as she inquired, "How are you feeling? Does it hurt?"

Yusaku didn't even get to attempt an answer as the doctor accompanied by two nurses entered.

Yukiko made a polite bow as she inched her way out of the room to give them some privacy.

Yusaku tried to ask her to stay, but it came out as a rasp. In distress, he watched her go, wondering if he'd ever see her again. Had he missed his chance? No. He would find her. There had to be some way, and he was a force to be reckoned with whenever he was determined to accomplish something. He would find her again.

Plus, she had left her book behind, so maybe she wasn't gone for good just yet.

Meanwhile, the doctor examined him thoroughly, issuing the typical battery of tests such as the infamous "How many fingers am I holding up?". Yusaku failed and received a diagnosis of minor concussion. He'd also received several stitches, but he'd recover with time.

Once they'd given him something to rehydrate his shriveled tongue and parched lips, he told them that he felt fine, but they still insisted on keeping him a little while for observation.

The thing Yusaku was most worried about was his editor having a heart attack when he found out Yusaku wouldn't be making the deadline because he was in the hospital. Yusaku would have to be sure to insist that he was perfectly fine and would return to work soon before he told Watanabe-san what had happened. The man meant well, but he tended to catastrophize in the extreme.

"So it's just a concussion? You're going to be okay?" Yukiko's voice brought Yusaku back to the present.

The doctor had just left, and Yukiko was hesitating in the doorway, hanging on the doorjamb, half in, half out of the room.

"Oh." Yusaku gave a start and reached up to run his fingers through his hair nervously. It was only when his fingertips touched bandage that he remembered that wouldn't be an option for a while. Instead he lowered his hand to scratch sheepishly at his cheek. "Yes. It's basically just a concussion and some stitches. I should be fine. Thank you, Miss…?"

"Yukiko." She smiled, cheeks coloring with a lovely sweetheart rose blush as she slowly made her way back over to the bedside. "Fujimine Yukiko. Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened, and I'm so glad you're okay."

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault," he assured, and she looked a bit surprised at that. "It was so kind of you to help after the accident—I have vague memories of you standing over me and trying to keep me conscious until help came. And then to go so far as coming to the hospital and waiting until I woke up… By the way, how is the other guy doing?" Yusaku inquired, partially out of politeness, partially out of curiosity.

Yukiko blanched when she realized the misunderstanding. She cringed as she admitted, "Actually…I'm the 'other guy'…and I'm fine, thank you."

Yusaku blinked. "O-Oh. Well… Good. I'm glad you're unharmed."

She fidgeted, making circles on the ground with her toe. "Once again, I'm really, really sorry. I just wanted to let you know my family will pay for the medical bills and the car and everything, so…" With a pained look, she gazed at the ground and muttered an embarrassed, "I already called the insurance company, and my father is sorting things out, so… I'm sorry. I wish you a swift recovery, and I look forward to your next book." She gave a quick bow and turned to leave.

"W-Wait!" he called, head still spinning with her and all the new facts that had come to light.

"Yes?" Yukiko turned slowly, hesitantly meeting his gaze, obviously expecting further admonishment.

"Uh…" He wasn't quite sure what to say to her, but he knew he wasn't ready to say goodbye yet. "Um…Fujimine-san…would you—c-could you…maybe stay for a while longer?" Realizing his impertinence, he rushed to add, "I mean! If you have the time of course." Yusaku smiled bashfully, trying to run a hand through his hair and only ending up scratching at his cheek in embarrassment once more.

Yukiko blinked, tipping her head to the side as she took one tentative step after the other back to the inhospitable-looking chair next to his bedside. "If…you're sure you want my company," she conceded.

"Only if you don't mind," he returned. "I don't want to keep you." He was afraid she'd stay out of a sense of obligation. He didn't exactly want that, but…at this point, he'd accept any circumstances if they kept her by his side.

"No," she sighed as she sat as primly as a model. "My audition was over hours ago, and I don't have any plans for the evening, so I might as well keep the prodigy of a novelist I've maimed company so long as he'll have me."

"So you know who I am, then." He grinned. "I was wondering when you mentioned looking forward to my next book."

She nodded, smiling sadly. "Yeah. Kudo Yusaku. I recognized you from the picture on the inside jacket of your books. Well…once they got you cleaned up…. I overheard one of the officials at the scene when they were looking through your wallet."

He nodded but then stopped when that proved to be painfully uncomfortable. "And what's this audition that you mentioned? Are you an actress?"

It was her turn to nod. She smiled softly, pride leaking through. "Yes, as a matter of fact. You may not have heard of me yet, but you will soon. I have a small following, and it's only going to get bigger once I score more regular roles and people have the chance to get to know me. I'm not just a chorus girl anymore. I've gotten some small roles that have bolstered my popularity, but…I need a recurring role in a drama or a supporting actress bit in a movie. Once I get a chance to really shine, I'm confident that I'll catch on quick. Once they see what I can do, they'll start giving me the roles I deserve," she boasted energetically, eyes shining.

She was radiant.

"I bet you will," Yusaku whispered, utterly besotted. "You're really something, aren't you?"

"I'd like to think so," Yukiko giggled modestly, her pedigree catching up with her, reigning in her boisterous nature. "But I really do know I can be a real star once I get the right role."

"Maybe I could write a role for you," Yusaku hummed, her beauty and the head wound clouding his judgment.

She blinked, eyebrows rising in disbelief. "R-Really? You think so?"

"Sure. Why not?" he laughed warmly. "I was just thinking that my detective needed a love interest, so it wouldn't be too much of a challenge. They're turning the series into a prime time drama, so…I think this could definitely get your name out there."

Yukiko smiled once more, but it was strained. "Thank you, Kudo-sensei—"

"—Please. Yusaku," he interrupted, wanting to hear his name on her lips.

"Thank you, Yusaku-san," she amended, stressing her appreciation. "It really means a lot to me, you offering to do that, but…I can't accept your offer."

"Don't be modest," he insisted. "I'd be glad to—"

"—I couldn't," she responded once more, firmly.

"If this is about the accident, don't worry," he tried to smooth things out between them. "It could have happened to anyone, and, really, I'm fine. I'm sure you'll be more careful in the future, and I won't be insisting on compensation, so let's just put this behind us, and—"

"—It's not that." Her smile was quickly degenerating into a pained, embarrassed expression. She gripped the novel she had been reading when he'd first woken up—his third novel, he just now realized.

"Then…then what?" He was truly at a loss, and he just wanted to make her understand how he wanted to help her.

She bit her lip and confessed, "I'm really sorry. I hope you don't think me ungrateful. I truly appreciate your offer, but…I just don't think you'd create the role I'm looking to be my breakout hit."

He blinked, stupefied. "What do you…mean?"

Her brow creased once more as she tried to formulate the least offensive way to say this. "Don't get me wrong," she started, hoping she wouldn't crush his motivation. "I adore your work. Your plots are always so intriguing, I never see the twists coming, and your male characters are exceptional. I would be delighted to play one of your detectives any day, but…I've read all of your novels and short prose to date, and, without fail, each and every one of your female characters has been…" She grimaced, fishing for the appropriate phrase. "…soulless. A bit…cookie-cutter."

It felt…kind of like when his head had gotten up close and personal with his window earlier that day. He was crushed. His writing was a part of himself, and she—this beautiful, intelligent woman—thought that his characters were lifeless and trite. All he could do was sit in stunned silence as she continued.

"They all come off as so flimsy and a bit superfluous, so…I don't think a role like that would flatter my acting skills." Yukiko tried to be nice, but she owed it to one of her favorite authors to be honest with him. "It seems to me like you don't have much of a strong female presence in your life to draw from, so maybe you could benefit from interviewing some female CEOs or reading biographies of notable women from history in order to find inspiration and models."

Suddenly realizing how forward and harsh she was being, Yukiko backpedaled. "I'm sorry. What do I know? You're an excellent writer as is, and everyone enjoys your stories very much, so maybe it's not really a problem that your female characters are flat. You shouldn't think about what I said too hard. I mean, I don't know the first thing about creating characters, so—"

"—But you do," he interrupted, a solemn expression on his face. "As an actress, you know more about creating believable characters than I do. Every gesture, every inflection, every move of every muscle in your face has to be spot on to turn the lines in your script into living human beings."

Yukiko sat staring in silence, amazed at his appreciation for her art.

Yusaku sighed. "And, for me, writing isn't just about selling books and being popular. I care. My novels are like little pieces of my soul. My characters are like children. Hearing you say that the women I write come off as lifeless dolls is a little…" He frowned, trying to find words to describe the pain. "Well, it hurts. Let's just put it like that."

Yukiko rushed to apologize, but he cut her off.

"—No. It's fine. I should be thanking you for the honest feedback. I mean…it stings, but that was something I needed to hear, so thank you for telling me." He chewed indecisively on his lip before venturing to continue. "And I was wondering…would you maybe consider sparing some time to help me with that?"

Yukiko blinked, not quite understanding. Her head tilted to the left once more.

"I mean…" He gulped. "Fujimine-san, I wonder if you would meet with me over coffee…or maybe dinner at an expensive French restaurant so we could talk more about how I could flesh out my female characters so maybe…someday I could create a role fit for you to play?"

A dazzling smile bloomed on Yukiko's lips as her cheeks turned carnation red. "Only if you call me 'Yukiko'."

…

"And that's how we met and started dating and fell hopelessly in love," Yukiko proudly crowed as her husband smiled fondly, still madly in love with his wife.

"I thought you two met through mutual friends." Shinichi frowned skeptically, holding in a grouchy "and nobody asked you to recount your mushy first meeting story".

"I like this version better," Kaito threw in his two cents, discretely rubbing his knee up and down his boyfriend's leg under the table.

Shinichi made a half-hearted grumbling noise, but, in truth, his annoyance was quickly melting. They were currently having dessert after a successful first-meeting-of-the-parents-and-the-boyfriend dinner, and it would soon be time to take Kaito home. Shinichi had a feeling that they would end up saying long goodbyes mixed with sweet kisses at the door, and after fifteen minutes of that, they'd move things into Kaito's living room. After languidly making out for a good quarter of an hour on the couch, they'd move to Kaito's bedroom where Shinichi would perhaps get an hour or two of sleep total before the morning encore followed shortly thereafter by an extra steamy shower together.

So, it really didn't matter that his mother told embarrassing, fabricated stories that Shinichi had specifically requested she avoid. All he had to do was be tolerant of his mother and concentrate on the night with Kaito ahead of him.

"…right, Shinichi?"

Shinichi had been so caught up in imagining all the ways he was going to make Kaito scream that he'd completely missed what Kaito had been saying.

"S-Sorry. What was that?" He smiled bashfully at his boyfriend, scratching sheepishly at his cheek.

"I said," Kaito patiently repeated, "that their first meeting sounds about as crazy as ours."

"You mean besides when you met as babies," Yusaku hummed, interested.

Yukiko perked up. "How did you two meet?"

"Which time?" Shinichi snickered. "The time at the clock tower when he was an internationally wanted jewel thief and I was a full-sized detective, the time on top of the hotel when he was still a criminal and I was a pint-sized detective, or the time when he was just Kuroba Kaito and I was Kudo Shinichi again?"

Kaito shrugged. "All of them were half crazy, half romantic: me hanging off the side of a giant clock face and you in a helicopter…helping the police try to catch me, the two of us alone on the roof of a hotel on a starlit night…until the police showed up because you'd signaled them, and me trying to pick you up over a cup of coffee…until that murder happened and the police came because of your stupid shinigami powers."

Shinichi winced. "There…were a lot of police, weren't there?"

"Sounds exciting!" Yukiko cooed. "A real, sweep-you-off-your-feet romance!"

Kaito smiled slyly, making bedroom eyes at his boyfriend. "'Exciting' is an understatement considering one of our meetings ended in him firing a shot at me. Isn't that right, Darling?"

Shinichi wilted.

"Shinichi!" Yukiko gasped.

Yusaku didn't say anything, but his eyebrows shot up at this development.

"Can't we just…forget about that already?" Shinichi muttered, ruing the day he attempted to capture the thief whose name he had yet to learn.

"Little hard to forget," Kaito teased, savoring the distressed look on his beloved's face. "You know. Being shot at and all."

"I'm sorry, but—"

Kaito cut him off with a shake of his head. "—Instead of apologizing, why don't you try telling me again about how that was the day when you intellectually fell in love with me. I like that story."

Shinichi's face flushed as Yukiko squealed in glee. "Did you seriously say that, Shin-chan? How romantic! Tell us the story! Please?"

"Let's not trouble them, Dear," Yusaku chuckled softly as Kaito leaned in and placed a quick peck on Shinichi's cheek.

Shinichi's flustered countenance softened into a contented smile, and he reached out to take Kaito's hand, squeezing it.

"It's getting late," Yusaku continued, "and I'm sure Shinichi will want to be getting Kaito-kun home."

"But already? It's only ten," Yukiko pouted, eager to tease the young lovebirds some more.

"By the time they get to Ekoda and finish saying their goodbyes, it'll almost be time for the trains to stop running," Yusaku pointed out.

"Ekoda's not that far," Yukiko argued sullenly, sticking out her bottom lip. "I doubt it'll take over two hours for the trip."

"If you factor in time to say goodbye, it will," Yusaku returned. "Remember how long it used to take the two of us to say goodnight? That's another hour added on at least. In fact, Shinichi, if it's all right with Kaito-kun, why don't you just spend the night at his house? That way you won't have to pay for a cab."

Yukiko held in a snicker. She was very tempted to remind her husband that it still took them a good hour to say goodbye whenever they separated for any substantial length of time. While not as youthful as she'd like them to be, Yukiko and Yusaku were still plenty young and every bit as in love as they had been back then.

"Thanks, Dad. I think I will." Shinichi sent his father an appreciative smile. He was immensely grateful that his father had chosen that night not to be such a troll.

"Aren't you going to ask if I mind first?" Kaito smirked, always the tease.

Shinichi rolled his eyes as he got to his feet and offered Kaito his hand. "You don't mind and you know it."

"Yeah, but isn't it better to play pure and innocent in front of your parents?" Kaito whispered, taking the proffered hand.

The image of Kaito in a nun's habit flashed through Shinichi's head followed shortly thereafter by Kaito in a Catholic school girl's uniform.

Shinichi snorted softly. "You forget that we're only having this official dinner because they walked in on us last week when they suddenly came home without giving me a heads up."

"I haven't forgotten," Kaito purred in amusement. Shinichi's entire body had turned lobster red, and it had been the best thing ever.

"Neither have I," Yusaku sighed, trying not to let it show that his son's newly-reveled sexuality bothered him. "So why don't you two head on out, hm?"

"Oh, I think they're adorable!" Yukiko trilled in response to her husband's unvoiced thoughts. "Such a cute couple! And I could watch Kai-chan make Shin-chan blush all day! Look! He's turning magenta as we speak!"

Shinichi glared at his mother even as he pulled his boyfriend out of the room. "Yeah. Well. That was fun. Thanks, Mom, Dad. See you later."

"We should do this again soon," Kaito suggested as he was dragged by the arm.

"Let's not," Shinichi groaned.

"But I want to spend more time getting to know my future son-in-law," Yukiko sulked, following the retreating Shinichi out into the hall and all the way to the door.

Yusaku reluctantly followed in order to try to keep his wife in check. Keyword: try. Normally, he was all for giving Shinichi a hard time, but…he felt like, in this, their son really needed their support.

"Lunch next Saturday it is!" Yukiko decided, and Kaito enthusiastically agreed, much to Shinichi's chagrin. He had a bad feeling that his boyfriend and his mother could do terrible, terrible things together.

Yukiko stood at the door, waving and calling after them until the boys disappeared around the corner, and then she stepped back, a satisfied smile clinging to her lips.

"Well," Yusaku sighed, thoroughly tuckered out. "That was fun."

"It was, wasn't it?" Yukiko giggled, infinitely pleased.

"…And Kaito-kun is a nice boy," Yusaku added after a beat.

"He is…. But he reminds me more of Chi-chan than Sensei," Yukiko hummed softly. "Still. A nice boy."

"And Shinichi's head over heels in love with him," Yusaku continued, coming to terms with the fact.

Yukiko nodded. "More importantly, Kaito-kun seems to love Shin-chan just as much."

Yusaku blew out a long, tired sigh, feeling every one of his forty years. "Yes. And I'm glad. It's not what I'd ever pictured for our boy, not…not what I'd ever wanted, but…I'm glad. I thought Shinichi would never recover after…after the break up, so…"

Yukiko smiled encouragingly, eyes full of love as she took his hand and hugged his arm to her chest. "I know what you mean. After Ran-chan… But, to me, boy or girl doesn't matter so much. I mean, they can adopt grandchildren for us. The most important thing is that they have love—the kind that will serve as a basis to get them through the hard parts…the kind that will keep them together and happy for the rest of their lives."

"You mean like what we have." Yusaku smiled, the weariness melting off of his features as he gazed upon his precious wife.

"Exactly," she giggled, leaning in for a long, slow kiss.

They laughed together as they parted and stepped back inside of the house.

Yusaku caught her eye and asked, "You know, that story you told at dinner tonight—about us meeting?"

She nodded, encouraging him to go on as they walked up the stairs arm in arm.

"I was thinking that it would make a good short story. You always come up with such interesting variations on our first meeting."

Her cheeks colored slightly, and she shrugged it off. "Well, I've had plenty of practice over the years."

"Why not tell the real story sometime?" he prompted.

She laughed at the lunacy, shaking her head. "Oh, no. Absolutely not. It would be waaaay too embarrassing."

"I thought you were cute," he chuckled, giving her hand a squeeze. "Well, think about it, and maybe you can work the real story into your rotation one of these days. I mean…I'm sure it's not too uncommon for rising starlets working as waitresses to spill milkshakes on up-and-coming writers, ruining their manuscript on the day that it's due."

Yukiko gave his arm a half-hearted smack. "Hush you."

The

End