(I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me)
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Ran finds him on the roof of Teitan.
“Shinichi, what are you doing up here?” Ran asks, wringing her hands.
“Skipping class. What does it look like?” He takes another drag of his cigarette, releasing the smoke in slow little rings. He's a “good kid,” the teachers won't think anything of it, not since Jodie left. Using his reputation like this is one of the few pleasures he has left. As long as he does it sparingly, it won't lead to negative consequences.
Sometimes he thinks that maybe Jodie wouldn't have noticed it either. But that's neither here nor there.
“That's unlike you,” Ran says quietly. “The smoking, too.”
“Is it?” Shinichi asks. “You haven't complained before.” He cuts his eyes at her. “Kid.”
“Ah, you caught me, detective,” Kid says, pulling a cigarette from Shinichi's crumpled pack.
Shinichi's hand goes to his trousers pocket and it's empty.
Kid leans over and lights his cigarette with Shinichi's own. It brings his face in close proximity, and Shinichi can't help but blush. “You know, these will kill you one of these days,” he says, taking a drag of his cigarette.
Shinichi laughs. “They have to catch me first. Why are you skipping class, then?”
“Why not?” Kid asks. The smoke drifts between them, slow in the dead wind. “You are.”
“Fuck you,” Shinichi says, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette.
“Is that an insult? Or your to-do list,” Kid asks, blowing a smoke ring, and then a smaller ring inside the first, and an even smaller one inside that.
Shinichi stares at him.
“What?” he asks, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
You're lucky I know you and could cater a fill entirely to your tastes :3c Merry Christmas fren cat and if i die on the operating table (^ dramatic bitch) you'll have one final send off from me uwu
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Frozen Souls
Summary: An egg found in the deep snow in the wilds of Hokkaido leads Shinichi to a reunion he never thought possible.
Tags: Pokephilia, Reincarnation, Temporary Major Character Death, Agender Character
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“Whoa, Sherlock! What's gotten into you, girl?” Shinichi asked, struggling to keep up with the mountainous terrain.
“Absol!” Sherlock urged him on even further.
“It's not a murder, is it?” Shinichi asked.
“Absol!” Sherlock said, tugging at his sleeve. Shinichi had no choice but to follow, and follow he did, for Sherlock had never led him astray, not as a cub, and not now.
The climb was steep. Even Shinichi, fit as he was, struggled with the terrain. It would be a long hike back to town, and an even longer journey back to Sapporo.
Finally, near the volcanic peak, Sherlock stilled, tilting her head. She nosed the ground, pawing at it with certainty.
Shinichi had no idea what she was doing until she unearthed an egg, deep under the snow. As she dug further, it became clear that it was something of a nest, deliberately placed, and this egg was the sole remaining one, as the others had hatched already and tunneled through the snow.
Once she'd done that, she sat awaiting a poffin. Shinichi had no choice but to give it to her, then climb down into the hole of a meter or so and retrieve the egg.
The egg was deathly cold. Shinichi frowned. Surely the cold was no object, seeing as how the other eggs hatched just fine. Perhaps it was a snover, or a snom; though the latter wasn't native to the region, some trainers were careless. Shinichi's frown deepened. He wasn't a trainer, and he really didn't want more than a partner pokémon. He hadn't wanted Sherlock in the beginning either, but her knack for detecting crises and disasters had been something of a boon for him.
With that memory in mind, and with Sherlock's insistence to find the egg in the first place, he sighed and unzipped his heavy overcoat, lifting his shirt and tucking the egg against his body directly, settling it against his binder.
There it settled until he hiked back to his rented car and then drove back to the hotel. Sherlock followed willingly; it seemed this egg was all that concerned her.
That made it a bigger concern to Shinichi. Just what exactly was inside this egg that made her so insistent?
He waited until he returned to the hotel to examine it more fully. The egg was a quarter of a meter tall and weighed about three kilos, white with red spotting that reminded him of blood in snow. He left it with Sherlock curled around it while he showered, then when he returned, he tucked it under his pajama top between his small breasts where the additional heat would help it.
He wondered if he should hatch it; after all, the pokémon inside it could be dangerous, but surely Sherlock would be opposed to hatching it if were so.
He fell asleep with it tucked tightly against his chest.
Shinichi woke up to movement inside his pajama top.
Whatever had hatched wriggled against his skin, incredibly soft and fluffy. Something that size didn't seem dangerous. It struggled and squirmed against his skin, tickling him, so he was forced to unbutton his top. The little pokémon spilled out onto the mattress, landing on its back. It was white and fluffy with red tipped fur and a mane that flowed in a nonexistent breeze, and a narrow, somewhat boxed snout.
His back, Shinichi noted. The excitement had him out of his sheath. A canid pokémon, then, but other than that, he had no idea what the hell it was. His oft unused pokédex was in his duffle bag, and he pulled it out and turned it on the pokémon.
“Ezoan Zorua, the spiteful fox pokémon. Not seen in over two hundred years. A once-departed soul, returned to life in Hokkaido. Derives power from resentment, which rises as energy atop its head and takes on the forms of foes. In this way, Zorua vents lingering malice.”
Zorua blinked up at Shinichi.
“Well, you don't look like you're holding a grudge,” Shinichi said.
Zorua ran around in circles on the bed, and then nuzzled him. “Such malice,” he said, taking him into his arms.
Zorua licked his nose. Shinichi laughed, then wrapped his arms around the cute little pokémon. “I guess if we hadn't found each other, you wouldn't be so tame, huh?” Zorua tilted his head, then his ears went back and he shot Shinichi a look.
“Okay, okay,” Shinichi said, laughing. “I don't want to test how resentful you can be.” Then his face fell. “A reincarnated spirit, huh?” He tried not thinking of that night, but the coloration of the little Zorua made him wonder.
Kaito had died in pain and resentment, the victim of a sniper shot to the head while performing as Kaitō Kid. Zorua had a streak of red on its forehead, from his red eyebrow all the way to the rest of his red capped ghostly mane. It was right where Kaito had been shot. He smiled, a bit bitter. Wishful thinking, he knew. Who knew how long the egg had been buried in the snow?
It had been over a year now since Kaito's death, and sometimes the pain hit him just as fresh as it were yesterday. But, Shinichi observed, it was hard to feel sad with a brand new pokémon, especially one that was so sweet and eager to cuddle.
Shinichi checked the time on his watch. Six am. He sighed. He might as well leave already. They'd gotten what they came for, after all, and Shinichi was adamant he needed to watch the little pokémon that had Sherlock concerned enough to take him all the way from Tokyo to Sapporo and beyond, no matter how cute and friendly he seemed.
“Okay, girl. You ready for travel?” Shinichi asked Sherlock.
“Absol!” she trilled, nodding and he returned her to her luxury ball.
“Okay, now for you, Zorua,” Shinichi said, digging out one of his spare luxury balls. The capsules were supposed to be comfortable and spacious, and he only wanted the best for his pokémon.
Zorua shook his head violently. When Shinichi tossed the ball, he bit it and threw it across the room. Shinichi frowned, picking it up. “I don't like it either, but the bullet train has a no pokémon rule. How else am I supposed to take you home, huh?”
Zorua tilted his head to the side again, then concentrated for a moment. With a puff of smoke, he disappeared, leaving a little child in his place that looked approximately four years old. He beamed up at Shinichi with a missing toothed grin; his messy hair and the chubby shape of his face reminded him of nothing more than Kaito at that age.
“Well,” Shinichi said, his voice strangled. “I guess that takes care of that.”
“En!” Zorua said, holding out its hand for Shinichi to take.
“You know, at least you look young enough I don't have to buy you a ticket.”
Zorua beamed, then handed Shinichi a rose in another puff of smoke.
Tears formed in the corners of Shinichi's eyes, and he had to take a moment to compose himself. The rose was real, too, and Shinichi wondered where he'd gotten it.
“So you're a little magician, huh,” Shinichi said, ruffling his hair. Zorua beamed.
The little Zorua sat in his lap the entire time. He was quiet and he didn't make trouble. Shinichi kept his arms looped around his waist.
Soon, the trip was over, and Zorua settled into a routine with Sherlock and Shinichi. Zorua was shy, generally disguising as wild pokémon or people when others were around, though he didn't mind Ran so much.
Weeks passed, then months. Zorua was so much a part of Shinichi's life now it was like he'd always been there.
Shinichi was walking home from a case down quiet residential streets, Sherlock in her ball so she could get some rest from the twenty-four hour stakeout.
Zorua was attached to Shinichi's side as usual, still refusing to enter a ball. He was currently asleep in the fur lined hood of Shinichi's jacket. Shinichi wished he could curl up and sleep. It had been a rather long day.
Since it was so quiet, the sound of a large transport truck growling behind him made him turn. It was odd; they weren't supposed to be on residential streets. He turned the corner, expecting that to be that, but the truck followed him. Not only did it follow him, it appeared to be heading directly towards him.
He ran, his life depending on it, jumping a fence. The truck didn't care, plowing right through it and continuing its assault on Shinichi.
Zorua leapt in front of him as the bright light of evolution flashed and the truck went careening to the left in a swirl of shadowed ice shards.
The new pokémon towered over him. Shinichi's knees collapsed underneath him as he stared at the truck, a huge dent in the side. That could have been him had the strange little pokémon not evolved and protected him.
His bitter malice had frosted the truck over completely into ice. Not even the driver had made it, already dead from hypothermia. Shinichi distantly noted he wore sunglasses and dressed entirely in black. Zorua's revenge was complete. Since it had saved his life, Shinichi almost couldn't find it in himself to care.
“Zoro,” he said, grinning, his own blood from the ice shards soaking his fur in thick streams. He knelt down, nuzzling Shinichi's face, ghostly fur cascading over them both. His own face was longer with a more pointed snout, claws red and mane reaching the length of the ground.
With a trembling hand, Shinichi pulled up the pokédex app on his phone.
“Ezoan Zoroark, the Baneful Fox pokémon. Not seen in over two hundred years. With its disheveled white fur, it looks like an embodiment of death. Heedless of its own safety, Zoroark attacks its nemeses with a bitter energy so intense, it lacerates Zoroark's own body.”
“Zoroark,” Zoroark said, satisfied, and picked Shinichi up and threw him over his shoulder.
“Hey, wait!” Shinichi protested, but he just wouldn't let him go. He carried him over his shoulder until he reached Shinichi's house, and even then, he didn't let him go until he'd reached Shinichi's bedroom and placed him in the bed.
The shower started in the distance, and Shinichi blinked at the thought of Zoroark taking a shower on his own. He supposed he had the height for it now.
Sherlock escaped her ball, concern on her human-like face as she licked his hand. “Absol?”
“I'm okay, I think,” he told her, and she trilled softly, padding to her bed and flopping down with a sigh. “Yeah, me too,” he told her.
The sound of a blow dryer from the bathroom had Shinichi sit up. Well, Shinichi supposed faintly, Zoroark did have a long mane and thumbs in this iteration.
But when Zoroark finally walked back into the room, Shinichi's heart stopped.
“Okay, that's not funny. I've been indulgent enough, but it's time to stop.”
Kaito stared back at him, tilting his head. Yes, Kaito. Zoroark must have seen a photo or something.
“I said cut it out!” Shinichi said, raising his voice.
Zoroark whined, but did as he was told, dropping the illusion of Kaito. Shinichi clutched at his heart, overwhelmed. It was too cruel.
Still, he progressed towards where Shinichi was seated on the bed, gathering him into his arms and gently licking his face. Shinichi noted distantly he'd brushed his teeth, too, with the faint scent of mint. He let him do whatever he wanted, lost in thought as he was, until he licked inside his mouth.
Shinichi sputtered. “No!” He shoved him away and dashed towards the other side of the room.
Zoroark whined.
“What? I'm human! I'm sure Sherlock would much prefer your advances!” Shinichi said, hands up.
“Absol!” Sherlock said, blushing, and she tucked her face under her paw, unable to look.
Zoroark used his ability again, turning back into Kaito, making the exact pouting face Kaito did when Shinichi wouldn't sleep with him; there was no way he could have picked it up from a photo. None existed.
An insane thought built in his mind. The coincidence of the timing, exactly a year after his death. The blaze of red on his face, right where the bullet hit. His natural inclination to disguise himself as the various ages of Kaito.
Zoroark—no, Kaito—nodded. But it couldn't be, could it?
“A reincarnated spirit steeped in resentment,” Shinichi murmured. “You came back to protect me.” The driver of the truck, after all, had been a man dressed in black.
Kaito nodded again. Shinichi took his hand, which turned into a paw on contact.
“Sherlock, you sensed him, didn't you?” Shinichi asked.
“Absol!” Sherlock trilled in the positive. Without Shinichi there to mitigate his anger and resentment, a great tragedy might have befallen Japan.
As it was, Kaito pressed his face against Shinichi's, wrapping his arms around him. It was something else Kaito used to do, and Shinichi felt his last reservations melt away.
Nakamichi "connects the dots" about Shinichi's missing time, subsequent reemergence and befriending people he never knew he met, and suddenly all of Teitan High knows that Shinichi's in a harem.
Everyone except Shinichi and his friends, that is. Shenanigans ensue, aggravated by Sonoko who is the only one who finds out early and is being very gleeful in her matchmaking, and eventually his friends learn they are in a harem (Shinichi is entirely oblivious for most of the fic except for digging himself deeper into the bisexual thirst trap) and it turns out that it may not be just a rumor after all.
I still have no idea how to tag the relationships. I drew a chart up once but that was three computers ago. It eventually grows to encompass Shinichi x Ran, Sera, Shiho, Heiji, Kazuha, Kaito, Aoko, Akako, and Saguru, but they all have complex feelings towards at least one other member.
And all because Sonoko invited everyone to her beach villa and wanted to take Shinichi and Heiji with her swimsuit shopping (mostly to matchmake shinran and heizuha) and then Kaito invites himself along (they were at the beach on a double not date) because of the harem rumors and then things get worse.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Characters: Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan, Vermouth (Meitantei Conan)
Additional Tags: Murder, Black Organization Member Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan, Angst, Violence, Making Out, Identity Issues, Pandora Gem (Magic Kaito), Protective Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan, Bittersweet Ending
Summary:
Stolen from his family as an infant, and raised by Vermouth, Shinichi has become one of the premiere assassins for the Black Organization. All is well and good until he meets one Kuroba Kaito in disguise, and he turns Shinichi's world on its head.
What will become of them now?
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My gift for @rux363 for the 2024 Kaishin secret santa. All your prompts were wonderful, but I ended up choosing prompt 2: "'Why didn't you stay? ... Was I not enough? To make you stay?' Because of course we need some angst prompts - go wild!"
I indeed went wild. Very wild, hehehe ^_^; I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you really have a lot of fun reading it, and a very merry season indeed. Or an angsty one >:)
Woo! It's that time of year again when big bang previews go out. I hit my millionth word in dcmk this fic by a country mile. It's a whopping 75k+!
Time travel was a siren song I couldn't resist even after I told myself I'd never do this again. Tune in this August for an action-packed time travel AU with some absolutely incredible art by the ever amazing Chii!)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/21
Fandom: 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed, Magic Kaito
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Characters: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan, Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Black Organization Member(s) (Meitantei Conan), Haibara Ai | Miyano Shiho, Miyano Akemi, Hakuba Saguru, Hattori Heiji
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Magic, Action/Adventure, Torture, Getting Together, Slow Burn, Identity Reveal, Minor Character Death
Summary:
Kaito uncovers a vast conspiracy from a most unusual source—a journal that purports to be from the future. Caught in the grasping claws of fate, Kaito finds an unlikely ally in detective Kudō Shinichi. They must work together to prevent a dark future, though the present Shinichi is suspicious of Kaito's motives.
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Notes: So I hit my millionth word in dcmk alone this fic by a country mile. Time travel was a siren song I couldn't resist even after I told myself I'd never do this again. Many thanks to @chiikichai for picking up the pinch hit when the original artist ghosted me and being a wonderful partner; it was such a pleasure to work with you again, Doodle for listening to my inane rambling when I desperately needed it, Kir for being my biggest cheerleader and supporter, for not saying I told you so, and for betaing this monster, and @glitchedcatto for body doubling. Love y'all 💙
Don’t forget to check out Chii’s absolutely incredible art here! Go give it some love!
