Tied down.

"Dad?"

It was nearing the end of the afternoon. It had been a slow day at the agency. Kogoro Mouri idly swirled the cup of coffee in his hand. The sky outside looked grey and dull.

"Dad!"

A splash of coffee made its way onto his suit, the warm liquid making him jump as much as the sound of his daughter's voice. He hadn't been listening. It was hard to stay alert on slow days like this.

"Wh... Agh! What? What is it Ran?" He snapped, feeling embarrassment colour his cheeks at being caught off-guard. If only Okino Yoko's show hadn't been cancelled today; the young talent had a knack for rescuing the private Detective from the void of boredom.

"Dad..." There was a small tone of reproach in Ran's voice as she took a napkin to wipe the stain off of his tie. It wasn't an unkind tone though: just a quirked up eyebrow, a disenchanted smirk and a sigh.

"Sorry," he mumbled, adjusting said tie and making pretence of tidying up some of the papers on his desk, all useless busywork stuff that he had no patience for today. "I was lost in thought. What were you asking?"

He sneaked a quick glance at the clock. She'd been home a good half hour. Made him coffee and gave him a hug as soon as she was through the door. Ran couldn't have had much homework if she was down here again so soon. He frowned as he looked her up and down. She had a slight wrinkle between her brows and was nibbling at her lip. Now that his tie was dry, she'd crossed her arms... It was just as her mother would do when something was troubling her. Kogoro put the mug of coffee down.

"I..." Ran started, her voice evaporating with that single syllable. Instead she switched to a chirpier attitude, pasting on that fake smile that had never fooled him. "Never mind. It's a silly question and you clearly have other things to worry about."

He caught her shoulder as she went to leave.

"Oye, none of that." Kogoro took a deep breath. This was one of those times where he really missed Eri. She was a lot better at being tactful, respectful and understanding of their daughter's boundaries. Still, he was a father, and if something was troubling his little girl, he wanted to know. It was time to use his most reassuring smile. "Let me decide if it's silly or not. Whatever it is has clearly been preying on your mind. Out with it."

Ran stayed quiet a moment, eyes down at the floor as she seemed to contemplate his words. Finally, when Kogoro was starting to think he should just let it be and go switch the TV back on, she spoke.

"Fine, I... I was wondering..." She lifted up her chin, squared back her shoulders and turned to face him before continuing. There was courage in her that Eri always said she'd inherited from him. Kogoro never believed it, especially not in moments like this. Ran was always so much fiercer than him when it came to facing her own demons. "I was wondering how hard it would be to... I would like you to find an address for me. Please?"

"An address?" Startled, Kogoro puzzled it over a moment. If Ran wanted an address, she usually just went for the address book by the phone or looked it up on her Smartphone. "What kind of address?"

"As I said... It is kind of silly." Flustered, his daughter swept a strand of hair behind her ear. "I... My friend left the country a while back without leaving us any contact details and I... I would really like to send him a small parcel."

The red cheeks, pursed lips and fiddling fingers, it didn't take a genius to come to the conclusion that Kogoro came to.
"This is about that boy, isn't it?"

"...Which boy?" Ran asked hesitantly, unsure how much her father understood without her needing to explain.

"That Kudo brat, of course!" The detective straightened himself into the pose he liked to refer to as the Poirot smug. He even twirled at his moustache. "He's been gone for months and only answers your calls on a whim. You want me to find him, don't you?"

"I... What no. I mean ye... You can do that? Really?" Ran leaned back onto the arm of the sofa behind her, eyes wide. "I would love it if you could but... That wasn't who I was thinking of!"

"What...?!" Kogoro's preening was brought to an abrupt end. He stumbled backwards towards his desk. Ran's blushing interest in this person could only have meant her childhood sweetheart Shinichi Kudo, surely. "Then who?"

"Do you remember Hondou? Eisuke Hondou, the boy from my class who wanted to tag along for a few of your cases?"

It took Kogoro a moment to try and place the name. Images of a thin teenager with large glasses came to mind. The boy had been nice enough, but he hadn't made much of an impression beyond his displays of inane clumsiness.

"That kid? He's the one that looked like that Mizunashi lady who used to do the news, right?" He scrunched his face up at the thought of looking for the boy. Why on earth was Ran trying to find him? "Wait... You mean he's no longer in your class?"

A sour look crossed Ran's features at his query.
"No. He kind of left without saying goodbye. I've only just found out that he left the country, and that took some digging."

Ah. That explained everything. From what little he'd seen, the two had indeed formed a close friendship. Of course she'd want to tell him off.

"Fine," he chuckled. "I'll have a look, see what I can find. Tell me as much as you can of what you think might help me find him."

"Thanks dad." Ran hugged him, her strong embrace and height reminding her father just how quickly she had grown. Ran wasn't a child anymore. She probably hadn't been for a while now.

"No problem..." He choked out quietly. He pulled up an extra seat to his desk, busying himself to find pen and paper, hoping to hide the wetness in his eyes. He ended up rubbing at them anyway as he gruffly asked where the young squirt was.

"Oh, Conan's at Agasa's. He said something about a new game or something." Ran sat down next to her father, mind already buzzing with the information the detective had asked of her. She had her notebook at hand. "Now here's what I know..."

It was warm. He'd been used to the heat back in Osaka, but this warmth was different, dry. It made his skin itch and his lips crack. He didn't mind it, really, though he was feeling dreadfully home sick. The United States he'd heard so much about as a child, the land of freedom and opportunity which had given birth to his dad, it was all so different in person.

He would make the best of it, he had decided. As had both his father and sister before him, he'd sought out the CIA, put his name down as an applicant. There'd been many hoops to jump through first: paperwork, visas, more paperwork, pestering one of his dad's old acquaintances for money so he could have some place to stay, pestering them again for a reference, written exam, more paperwork, physical exam, waiting, waiting, looking for an odd job to tide him over, more waiting, and then a conditional "maybe" for all his troubles.

He sighed. America was hard.

It would have been a lot easier with a certain lady by his side.

Eisuke Hondou shook his head, hoping to dislodge such wistful thinking. He adjusted his glasses, finally the fog from leaving the air conditioned sports hall had cleared. He wiped away some of the sweat from his brow, fringe plastered to his heated skin. The workout today had been tough, but satisfying. After weeks, he finally felt like he was making some progress worth applauding. Thinking of which, it was time for him to check and see if his written results had come through.

He walked past the bus stop he would normally wait at after his training. Idly he wondered if Ran would notice the effect it was having on him. His chest was starting to barrel out a bit, and tripping was getting rarer. His father's mentor had even commented on how he was standing just that little bit straighter now. Eisuke smiled.

His English had been improving too. He'd thought himself pretty proficient before he came here, but it soon turned out to be an illusion. Accents and vocabulary had let him down. Some bystanders called him Chinese when they heard him speak, some folk even looking at him odd for having Asian eyes or a girlish figure. Thankfully, those people were few and far between, and with all the space available, they weren't hard to avoid if you had your own transport. Give it another month, and he might be able to afford a bike. The chaps at the garage seemed keen to sell him one.

His footsteps lead him quite naturally to the local Post Office. Greeting the teller, he made his way to the boxes near the back, adjusting his sports bag on his shoulder as he pulled out his key.

A couple of letters greeted him as he pulled the metal door open. He perked up at the sight of the stamp on the top-most one. Yes, the results were in, hopefully they'd be good! Grinning, he went to pick them up, only to notice that they were concealing a medium sized parcel. Curiosity getting the better of him, he pulled it out separately and inspected it.

His heart stopped when he saw the return address.

His face studiously blank, he put the parcel and envelopes in his shoulder bag, locked the box and left. He had to make a conscious effort not to run. His hands gripped the bag strap till the knuckles went white as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

It was only when he reached the bus stop again that he noticed his eyes were wet and the bus he'd been hoping to catch had just been. Dejected, he sat on the bench, and stared at the blue and grey sky above.

Eisuke Hondou had made a point about leaving Japan without saying goodbye. He had left no contact details. There'd been no phone number, email or postal address through which those of his past life could get in touch.

After a lifetime of seeing those he cared about leave him without word or warning, he hadn't been able to stomach the thought of saying farewell. He hadn't wanted to allow himself the illusion that his old friends would keep in touch. They wouldn't, or so he had thought.

Leaving quietly had been his way of removing himself from the pain and the guilt of being the one to depart so suddenly. Some part of him thought that if he didn't say the words, then he'd be able to return as though he'd never been away. Some part of him hoped that by not making a fuss, it would make it easier for him to forget.

It hadn't made it easier, at all. In the year he'd been away, he hadn't spent a day without thinking of them, thinking of her.

Sender: Ran Mouri, Mouri Detective Agency, Beika-cho, Tokyo, Japan.

Without even thinking, he'd pulled the parcel out to stare at it. Brown paper, thin and waxed red string, it had a decent weight to it. It can't have been cheap to send. The customs ticket mentioned books. Why would she be sending him a book, especially out of the blue like this, especially after so long without a word?

It took him a dreadfully long while to pull himself away from just tracing the letters of his name. He recognised the strong strokes of her kanji writing, marvelled at the dedication and assuredness of the lines she'd used to copy out his Post Office Box address, the English letters looking slightly clumsy compared to what he'd grown used to. Gingerly, he pulled at the red string, teasing it out from the tape holding it down, unwilling to cut or break it, fearing that part of him would do the same if he did.

The brown paper tore slightly as he unwrapped the parcel, string in his pocket and a puzzled frown on his face. It didn't take him long to recognise the book inside: "Identifying a decapitated head in the middle of the night." The Kanji stood out on the bold design of a crescent moon, the author's name, Shinmei Kaori, neatly slotted in underneath. He remembered picking up a copy in the book store, that day when he'd failed to say goodbye. Sonoko had been needling him about some imagined "Love Sickness", while Ran had shown herself to be more understanding of his extended medical absence story, if bemused. It had been a fun outing, after a final normal-ish day at school. The ensuing Karaoke session had been a most welcome pleasant surprise on which to end his time in Tokyo, right up till the required murder case that seemed to follow Ran and her ever watchful companion. He remembered his bittersweet discussion with the young Conan that night. He wondered if Shinichi had enjoyed his copy of this self same book.

"I hate to be tied down..." The words were whispered; a memory of when he'd refused to buy the book in the first place. It had been half an excuse, so he need not mention his imminent departure when he'd only just returned, and it had been half truth. As a child, he'd hated being tied down by his illness, kept away from his father and sister's busy lives, zooming from place to place. Even his mother had been the sort to flit from one room to another, during her time as housekeeper. The idea of being stuck in the one room with little prospect of change, it terrified him.

He remembered the string in his pocket. Blushing, he realised that he'd never minded the idea of being tied to someone.

Lifting out the book, he noticed there were two other volumes alongside it. Checking the back of the last one, he saw it was indeed the complete set, no sequel to "tie him down" to time either. He smiled. Nostalgia and longing pulled at his heartstrings.

The corner of an envelope was poking out from the pages of the first book. He lifted it out, seeing more of Ran's beautiful penmanship. He paused at the words she'd written.

"Please don't let our story end on a cliff-hanger, love, Ran."

Well, that did it. He was crying. He was crying the manly tears of love, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He took deep breaths and lifted his gaze away from the bundle in his lap. The sky was turning gold. It wouldn't be much longer till the next bus came around. He'd have to leave the reading of the letter till he got back to the bedsit. Wiping at his eyes, he stood and went to return the opened parcel to his sports bag, only to notice something glinting on the floor.

It was a business card, obnoxiously printed on shining gold stock. He recognized the name on it without needing to read it. Kogoro Mouri certainly strived to stand out from the crowd.

He picked it up as he finished zipping up his bag. There was something scrawled messily on the back, the script unmistakeably that of Ran's father.

"Oye, clumsy brat: You're one hell of a hard guy to find. You better make it worth all the effort for my daughter! - Great Detective Mouri."

I took a moment for the words to sink in, eyes blankly taking in the words, mind questioning whether he'd read the kanji right. The bus he'd been waiting for was just turning onto the street.

Eisuke had thought his tears had dried up. He was wrong. Big choking sobs descended upon him as he dropped to his knees, joy and regret warring with his expressions, laughter pealing out between whimpers.

He'd asked the wrong man.
He'd asked Shinichi for his blessing and been refused. He should have asked Kogoro Mouri.

He should have asked Ran.

Fin.