When There's No Means of Turning Back

"It's over, Kudo-kun. I'm sorry."

'I'm sorry.'

Ah.

He stared at the screen of his phone, face blank. Maybe it was seconds, or it could have been minutes. Perhaps it was hours. He didn't know how long he stood there, staring at the dark screen of his mobile.

Then, the object fell out of is grasp and hit the ground with a clatter.

The noise never reached his ears.

Before he knew it, he was running, sprinting away with no destination in mind, never hearing the confused voice calling out after him. He had to get away, away from here, away from— everything.

It was already dark, the streetlights passing by in a blur.

He continued, rushing over the empty streets, his legs trying to take him away. Away from everything. Even if he knew somewhere at the back of his mind; it was not possible;

He would not be able to run forever.

Then, at last, he stopped, as if suddenly there was not enough energy left in his tiny body to keep him going, to keep him upright—this small body of him he so despised. He swayed, feeling lightheaded, nausea crawling up his throat. He swallowed thickly, tasting the sour taste of bile.

His breathing was heavy and ragged in his ears, the world around him rocking a little. He blinked a few times to get a clear look at his surroundings. He was at some deserted playground, the one streetlight gleaming its pale light. If he turned, he could look out on the highway beneath him. In the dark below were the tiny beams of many cars to be seen. Above him, there were the stars, sparkling softly and faraway. It was a beautiful night. However, he didn't notice it.

With the slowing of his ragged breathing, his mind started to work again, the numbness slowly dissolving.

'It's over, Kudo-kun. I'm sorry.'

Those were the words she had said. She had tried to sound strong, but the tremble in her voice had betrayed her.

He could imagine the tears in her eyes, the way she chewed her lip.

'I'm sorry.'

So, this was it; there was no way back, no means to return.

The sharp pain was sudden. He grabbed the soft fabric of his shirt, twisting the material, digging his nails into the tender flesh of his chest. He gritted his teeth against the sudden scream that seemed to well up. The burning feeling of the overwhelming emotions that washed over him, threatening to take him away.

It hurt, he was suffocating.

He gasped for breath. It was almost too much.

Then:

"Conan-kun?"

He nearly missed the soft and worried voice.

Her murmur sent a shudder down his spine.

Ran.

He turned, not wanting to face her, yet not able to ignore her. Not this time, not when— Even if he was afraid of what she would see on his face, he had to look her in the eye, he had to—

She was next to him in the blink of an eye, bending down, stretching out a hand. She touched his cheek. He started at her tender touch.

"What's wrong, Conan-kun?"

Her sweet voice, her worried expression, the few strands of soft, brown hair that fell into her face, she had probably sprinted after him;

it was nearly too much to handle.

He never wanted her to have that look of worry on her face, he never wanted to make her sad, her tears, they hurt him every time he saw them on her delicate face, slipping down her cheeks. He wanted her to smile.

And he had tried and tried and tried. And yet—

'Don't cry, Ran. I want to see you smile. It's gonna be alright, I promise you. Don't cry, please.'

'I—'

"Conan-kun?"

There was an uncertainty in her voice, and he abruptly realized it; it was he who was not smiling right now. It was him, who was—

Ugh...

She touched his cheek again, softly, a tad unsure.

The radiance of the streetlight blended into an ugly smear, and he clenched his eyes shut against the distortion—against the lie that was his life.

The lie that was Conan Edogawa.

He welcomed her tender embrace, the sweet scent of her shampoo prickling his nose.

He quivered under her warmth, face hot, eyes burning.

"What is it, Conan-kun? You can tell me, you know that, right?"

Right?

She sounded downright frightened.

'No, I can't, Ran. I can't. I— I—'

'I've failed. I've failed you. I've failed everyone.'

'I'm sorry, Ran. I'm sorry.'

The bleak and round moon was high above the pair in the endless, dark sky. Shining its pale light down on them. But, neither of them noticed.

000

Somewhere a redheaded girl, probably no more than seven years old, gazed up at the moon high above her. Behind her on the desk, visible in the ghostly, blue glow of a computer, a scattered heap of crumpled papers remained.

Haibara bit her lip.

"It's over, Kudo-kun. I'm sorry."

All the mistakes are mine.