Detective Conan - Magic Kaito oneshots

Inevitable Endings

Shinichi grows restless as the evening hours tick by into early night and the light outside fades. It's the most infuriating kind of restlessness where he cannot focus on all the work he needs to, nor can he read any of the books he'd been meaning to, nor can he focus on completing any household tasks still awaiting his attention. He certainly cannot get himself to go to bed like this.

His body moves to the front door on autopilot, like a lapse in his memory, his brain's focus, his thoughts briefly turning inward and getting lost there, seemingly just a blink and he's stood in front of the doorway shrugging on a jacket and slipping into his shoes.

He's already locked the door to the Kudo Mansion behind himself and marched halfway down the driveway by the time he registers that it's still way too hot outside even at this late hour to be wearing a jacket. The high humidity makes his many scars itch and his skin crawl a bit occasionally, and though he sweats buckets in this weather at least the hot summer makes his chronic pain more manageable.

Shinichi shrugs off the jacket and slings it over one shoulder as he makes his way into the summer night, letting his feet carry him anywhere just to wear out the incessant and entirely unnecessary energy thrumming through his veins. Given his track record it's highly likely that he's about to find a dead body or witness another murder on his little walk, but for the moment that's a risk he's willing to take. He could do with a distraction.

Since the takedown of the Black Organization, and he startles again at the realization that that really has been over more than a year by now, his paranoia has been merciful enough to dial it down a bit, he doesn't jump at every shadow. Only every third or fifth. That he's capable of going on a nightly walk by himself at all is progress, his therapist would say.

It's no contact he sought out willingly, but now that he's emotionally overcome the sense of betrayal that the familial intervention at his deteriorating mental health evoked he's come to appreciate the therapy sessions as a part of the routine that helps him stay grounded. He's making progress. That's what he's been told a couple of times over the past few weeks now. Occasionally, like tonight, he can see it too.

Just as he's thinking that, the all too familiar sense of someone watching him overcomes him right at that moment. The alarm barely has time to settle in his chest, blood rushing, heart beating, head turning, gaze searching, when his distraction arrives in the form of a pained sound stuck somewhere between a yelp and a scream and Shinichi's priorities shift in the blink of an eye as his very nature demands he take off to investigate.

—

The case is simple enough. The runaway teenager's attacker is the abusive parent they were running from in the first place. He doesn't ask for further motives and feelings or appeals to hopefully bad consciences any more than is strictly necessary for the investigation, and leaves the scene as soon as Inspector Megure declares his presence on site not to be necessary any longer.

Now that it's all over for the time being and a heightened level of alertness is no longer needed the adrenaline wears off, the distraction wanes, much to his dismay, making room for the usual tiredness that goes beyond physical exhaustion.

Distractions are good. They help him pick himself up and regain some semblance of function after having devolved into a hyperventilating, sobbing mess on the floorboards of his mansion. Distractions keep the ugly thoughts and feelings away. Help to feign something almost like mental and emotional stability. At the end of the day Shinichi is still intelligent enough to know that distractions are too good.

He tries to ignore the vague heaviness that settles in his entire being as he leaves the crime scene with another successfully solved case under his belt. It's an old companion, though one he doesn't particularly welcome. Not that he gets a choice in the matter.