Another shrimp

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In retrospect Heiji should've known that trying to bug Gin's car a second time (and doing so when he didn't have the lucky charm Kazuha made him with him to top it off) was as stupid as it could possibly get when it had barely ended well the first time around with well including Ai Haibara receiving multiple bullet wounds.

He was pretty sure that he was being followed by them right now. With one hand the teenage detective shoved the drenched strands of hair out of his face while his other hand was franticly fumbling for his phone in the pockets of his equally drenched jacket.

His feet kept splashing into large puddles as he dashed through dark alleys, searching for a way out, for help, for a chance to get away. Away from them. They who made his fearless best friend panic, they who had gifted him with so much pain and one of the most horrible psychological and emotional tortures possible.

If Kudo was afraid of something anybody else was already wetting themselves in fear in the corner. Yeah, just why hadn't he remembered that when he'd encountered the black porsche?

Because he'd remembered something else. Because he'd remembered the way Ran looked when something regarding Shinichi came up and she believed to be unnoticed. Because he'd remembered how Conan would always notice those moments.

Because he'd remembered how his best friend looked at the girl he loved when he noticed her turmoil. The raw pain and longing in his eyes, that look that screamed helplessness and desperation, that looked a bit like a dark crack on the otherwise bright child, like an abyss, threatening to swallow the light if allowed.

Of course, Kudo wouldn't allow for his light to be swallowed. Not yet. Not anytime soon. Maybe one day. And how Heiji dreaded that day.

Every time he saw that look on Conan he renewed his oath to himself that he'd get his best friend back to his old form and life, that he'd do everything in his power to help his one and only best friend defeat his enemies.

Even though no one, not even Heiji himself, knew how they'd become so close best friends in such a short time to begin with. It must've been having to work together under pressure that had brought them that close in such a short time. Kazuha didn't count as best friend. She was...

Well, she was Kazuha. His Kazuha. She was a major reason why he was doubling his speed to get away. He couldn't do to her what Kudo had been forced to do to Ran. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't.

The constant noise of the rain falling on the concrete was somehow increasing his panic. Its frantic rhythm made his own heart beat even faster. Another alley, another corner, finally he'd gotten his phone out and was selecting Kudo's number. Swiping his wet hair out of his face for the hundredth time, he put his phone to his ear and listened to its ringing as if his life depended on it. Which it probably did.

Finally, the line connected. "Kudo!" "This is the phone of Shinichi Kudo. I'm not available right now, but please leave a message and I'll make sure to call you back as soon as I can. Beeeep" Straight to voice mail. It felt as if a boulder had sunk into his stomach. He was done for.

Defeat sunk into every cell of his already more than tired body. But if he stopped running, he would surely die. If he kept running, he might have a chance to outrun them, he told himself. He was lying and he knew it. He had to try to call Shinichi again.

This time he called Conan's phone. A cheerful voice chirped into his ear. "Hi! This is the phone of Conan Edogawa. I can't talk right now, but I'll try and call you back if you leave me a message! If it's really important, please call the agency Mori. Bye!" Since he was running out of options, he did just that. No one answered the phone and it too went to voice mail after some time.

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