Letting Go (30 Kisses: Shinichi/Ran)
Apr. 11th, 2007 09:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
candyficsTitle: Letting Go
Author: Candyland
Pairing: Kudo Shinichi/Mouri Ran
Fandom: Detective Conan
Theme: #4—our distance and that person
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Gosho Aoyama. I claim none, I merely borrow them and dress them up in frilly smocks and make them dance to my ever-changing will like the puppets they are.
You know what? This sucks.
I don’t usually give into my misery like this, but right now, I just need a good wallow in self-pity. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s perfectly healthy and natural to whine and complain once in a while. Not so sure about my ever-growing desire to do indescribable things to Gin with a crowbar and a pair of pliers, but we won’t talk about that right now.
But can you blame me? I’ve always been sarcastic and cynical—God knows I’m far too sarcastic for my own good most of the time, even now. And cynicism is sort of par for the course with what I do. But now in addition to being sarcastic and cynical, I’m bitter and disillusioned to boot. Makes for good company, wouldn’t you agree?
Given my, ah, present situation, I’m proud of myself for holding together this long. It really is enough to drive a person crazy. And sometimes I wonder if I am losing my mind. But I got to thinking, about relationships and people and all that fun stuff.
It’s sort of strange, but Conan has sort of become a link between Ran and Shinichi.
Do you know strange it is to be me? I’m stuck in the middle…between myself and another person. So I’m trapped in two different spots on this crazy spectrum. If I didn’t have a handle on it, it would probably drive me insane trying to make sense of it. And it’s weird, I know, but I’ve almost started thinking of myself as two different people.
There’s Shinichi. Ran’s childhood best friend, and the boy she fell for somewhere along the line. The idiot, who waited too long to say something too important, and is now regretting it. He’s brilliant at a crime scene or on a soccer field, but he was a moron at deducing his own feelings. And now he can’t be with the girl he loves, and he has no real excuse for not telling her in the first place, giving her an actual reason to wait, and himself some feeling of belonging. The idiot.
And then there’s Conan. Ran’s little bodyguard. He follows her around like a little shadow, always watching carefully, prepared to chase off anyone that might have less-than-pure intentions towards his beloved big sister—be that person a murderer, a criminal, or another boy. And most importantly, Conan is pretty much the only person who can console Ran when she’s upset about something, or missing Shinichi-the-idiot who breaks her heart. He’s her adoptive little brother.
Ironic how one person can take on two entirely different identities, and play two entirely different roles. And somewhere in the middle of it all—between the ever-present Conan and the ever-absent Shinichi—is the real me. I’m stuck somewhere in the middle, I just don’t know where. I’ve worn this mask for so long that I’m not sure I remember how to take it off. I can no longer point to the spot where Conan leaves off, and the real me begins.
It scares me. I no longer have a real identity. And yet, I still hold on.
My parents wanted to take me away to America with them. And in reality, I probably should have gone. As long as the Black Organization is around, I’m in danger. Sooner or later, they’ll find me. I have no illusions about that. But I stayed—there’s someone here who needs me.
Every day that Shinichi is gone is one more inch that they move apart. He leaves her dangling to protect her, breaking her heart to keep her safe and making her cry to save her life. And there I go again, thinking of him as a separate person. Why do I keep doing that? I am Shinichi, in mind if nothing else.
…I should let her go. I have no right to monopolize her life without anything to back it up. If I could find a way to let her know that I’m thinking about her and that I do miss her…then maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty. But I was an idiot, and now I’m paying the price.
I should let her go. But I don’t—I haven’t.
Why do I hold on, you ask? Why haven’t I done the right thing and let go?
I’ll admit that it’s partially because I’m selfish—she’s mine, dammit, even if it isn’t official yet. I can’t accept the idea, the bare suggestion, that someone else might step into her life and take her away. So I hang around and glare at them from behind Conan’s glasses. I feel like an attack dog or something, but most of them get the message in record time. The few that don’t…well, let’s just say I’ve found many fascinating things that one can do with super-sneakers and various kickable objects.
I’m digressing again, aren’t I? Anyway, yes, part of the reason I cling so desperately to Ran is because I’m just plain selfish, and I won’t let anyone else have her until I know for certain that I can’t be with her. But that’s really not the only reason why I hold onto her like I do.
I hold on because I can’t let go.
I’m dangling over a cavern, holding onto a wire—that wire is the hope that there will be a cure and I will get back to normal. It’s held up by the way Ran smiles when she gets one of Shinichi’s phone calls, and the way her eyes sparkle when she speaks of him. But the wire is growing ever thinner, as time goes by. It cuts into my hands; I’m hurt by the one lifeline I can’t release—just as Ran can’t let go of Shinichi, no matter how much it hurts her.
Yet I cling to it because if I let go of that hope—if I let go of Ran—then I’m lost. Forever. I’ll fall into that big black pit and they’ll never be able to pull me out again. Shinichi will be gone for good, broken into a thousand pieces and scattered to the wind. She’ll never get him back, and she’ll cry.
And I think there’s another reason. Scratch that—I know there’s another reason. It took me a while to recognize this for what it was, and I try to ignore it. I hate admitting when something scares me.
Yes, scares me. I’m afraid to let her go because of what it would mean for me. Aside from my true identity disappearing forever, I mean. If I let go—or if she lets go, for that matter—then I’m really all alone, aren’t I? Without the one person who ever really took the time to know me as more than just the class brain, the ace soccer player, the face on the news.
And the thought of being alone, being without her…it terrifies me like nothing else ever could.
So I hold onto my hope, and I hold onto her. I hold on for her.
Someday, Ran. Someday I’ll get out of the middle of this stupid situation. I will bring the Black Organization to justice, and I will get back to myself once and for all. And then I’ll be able to come back for good. I promise I won’t screw it up this time, like I’ve screwed it up every single time. Because I am not going to make the mistake of waiting anymore—you deserve better than that.
I know you like flowers, so I’ll make sure I have some for you. I know I owe you the world’s biggest apology, and I am prepared to grovel—and make this all up to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. I will tell you the truth.
And then I am going to kiss you within an inch of your life. You can punch me if you want.
But then watch out, because after you’re done beating me…I’ll just do it again.
PS. Ah, the waff…thanks for tuning in, everyone. Much love!
Author: Candyland
Pairing: Kudo Shinichi/Mouri Ran
Fandom: Detective Conan
Theme: #4—our distance and that person
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Gosho Aoyama. I claim none, I merely borrow them and dress them up in frilly smocks and make them dance to my ever-changing will like the puppets they are.
You know what? This sucks.
I don’t usually give into my misery like this, but right now, I just need a good wallow in self-pity. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s perfectly healthy and natural to whine and complain once in a while. Not so sure about my ever-growing desire to do indescribable things to Gin with a crowbar and a pair of pliers, but we won’t talk about that right now.
But can you blame me? I’ve always been sarcastic and cynical—God knows I’m far too sarcastic for my own good most of the time, even now. And cynicism is sort of par for the course with what I do. But now in addition to being sarcastic and cynical, I’m bitter and disillusioned to boot. Makes for good company, wouldn’t you agree?
Given my, ah, present situation, I’m proud of myself for holding together this long. It really is enough to drive a person crazy. And sometimes I wonder if I am losing my mind. But I got to thinking, about relationships and people and all that fun stuff.
It’s sort of strange, but Conan has sort of become a link between Ran and Shinichi.
Do you know strange it is to be me? I’m stuck in the middle…between myself and another person. So I’m trapped in two different spots on this crazy spectrum. If I didn’t have a handle on it, it would probably drive me insane trying to make sense of it. And it’s weird, I know, but I’ve almost started thinking of myself as two different people.
There’s Shinichi. Ran’s childhood best friend, and the boy she fell for somewhere along the line. The idiot, who waited too long to say something too important, and is now regretting it. He’s brilliant at a crime scene or on a soccer field, but he was a moron at deducing his own feelings. And now he can’t be with the girl he loves, and he has no real excuse for not telling her in the first place, giving her an actual reason to wait, and himself some feeling of belonging. The idiot.
And then there’s Conan. Ran’s little bodyguard. He follows her around like a little shadow, always watching carefully, prepared to chase off anyone that might have less-than-pure intentions towards his beloved big sister—be that person a murderer, a criminal, or another boy. And most importantly, Conan is pretty much the only person who can console Ran when she’s upset about something, or missing Shinichi-the-idiot who breaks her heart. He’s her adoptive little brother.
Ironic how one person can take on two entirely different identities, and play two entirely different roles. And somewhere in the middle of it all—between the ever-present Conan and the ever-absent Shinichi—is the real me. I’m stuck somewhere in the middle, I just don’t know where. I’ve worn this mask for so long that I’m not sure I remember how to take it off. I can no longer point to the spot where Conan leaves off, and the real me begins.
It scares me. I no longer have a real identity. And yet, I still hold on.
My parents wanted to take me away to America with them. And in reality, I probably should have gone. As long as the Black Organization is around, I’m in danger. Sooner or later, they’ll find me. I have no illusions about that. But I stayed—there’s someone here who needs me.
Every day that Shinichi is gone is one more inch that they move apart. He leaves her dangling to protect her, breaking her heart to keep her safe and making her cry to save her life. And there I go again, thinking of him as a separate person. Why do I keep doing that? I am Shinichi, in mind if nothing else.
…I should let her go. I have no right to monopolize her life without anything to back it up. If I could find a way to let her know that I’m thinking about her and that I do miss her…then maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty. But I was an idiot, and now I’m paying the price.
I should let her go. But I don’t—I haven’t.
Why do I hold on, you ask? Why haven’t I done the right thing and let go?
I’ll admit that it’s partially because I’m selfish—she’s mine, dammit, even if it isn’t official yet. I can’t accept the idea, the bare suggestion, that someone else might step into her life and take her away. So I hang around and glare at them from behind Conan’s glasses. I feel like an attack dog or something, but most of them get the message in record time. The few that don’t…well, let’s just say I’ve found many fascinating things that one can do with super-sneakers and various kickable objects.
I’m digressing again, aren’t I? Anyway, yes, part of the reason I cling so desperately to Ran is because I’m just plain selfish, and I won’t let anyone else have her until I know for certain that I can’t be with her. But that’s really not the only reason why I hold onto her like I do.
I hold on because I can’t let go.
I’m dangling over a cavern, holding onto a wire—that wire is the hope that there will be a cure and I will get back to normal. It’s held up by the way Ran smiles when she gets one of Shinichi’s phone calls, and the way her eyes sparkle when she speaks of him. But the wire is growing ever thinner, as time goes by. It cuts into my hands; I’m hurt by the one lifeline I can’t release—just as Ran can’t let go of Shinichi, no matter how much it hurts her.
Yet I cling to it because if I let go of that hope—if I let go of Ran—then I’m lost. Forever. I’ll fall into that big black pit and they’ll never be able to pull me out again. Shinichi will be gone for good, broken into a thousand pieces and scattered to the wind. She’ll never get him back, and she’ll cry.
And I think there’s another reason. Scratch that—I know there’s another reason. It took me a while to recognize this for what it was, and I try to ignore it. I hate admitting when something scares me.
Yes, scares me. I’m afraid to let her go because of what it would mean for me. Aside from my true identity disappearing forever, I mean. If I let go—or if she lets go, for that matter—then I’m really all alone, aren’t I? Without the one person who ever really took the time to know me as more than just the class brain, the ace soccer player, the face on the news.
And the thought of being alone, being without her…it terrifies me like nothing else ever could.
So I hold onto my hope, and I hold onto her. I hold on for her.
Someday, Ran. Someday I’ll get out of the middle of this stupid situation. I will bring the Black Organization to justice, and I will get back to myself once and for all. And then I’ll be able to come back for good. I promise I won’t screw it up this time, like I’ve screwed it up every single time. Because I am not going to make the mistake of waiting anymore—you deserve better than that.
I know you like flowers, so I’ll make sure I have some for you. I know I owe you the world’s biggest apology, and I am prepared to grovel—and make this all up to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. I will tell you the truth.
And then I am going to kiss you within an inch of your life. You can punch me if you want.
But then watch out, because after you’re done beating me…I’ll just do it again.
PS. Ah, the waff…thanks for tuning in, everyone. Much love!
