iamwhelmed: @marivanilla05 Merry Christmas~❤My name is Whelmed, I’m your Secret Santa! It&rsqu

iamwhelmed: @marivanilla05 Merry Christmas~❤My name is Whelmed, I’m your Secret Santa! It’s nice to meet you officially!I saw that you and I shared a love of the detective boys, and you said you’re a sucker for reveals– so what about post-reveal growing pains on Christmas Day? I hope you enjoy it!@dcmksecretsanta I had fun playing this year, hopefully I have the time to do it next year, too! I know personally how difficult it can be to run a Secret Santa, and I applaud you– this event was probably huge, so thank you for hosting, and Merry Christmas to you, too!Summary: The kids slip away from their homes after Christmas seems to lose its magic.Christmas was supposed to be happy… right?It was candy and cake, smooth whipped cream with strawberries and glaze, canes with stripes, chocolates in stockings that were so full, the hemlines stretched and the stitches snapped. It was tall pine trees lit with bulbs hot to the touch, sometimes twinkling, with a star or ribbon on top; the best part were the decorations, though– tinsel strung from branch to branch, small porcelain people with names in black paint, round ornaments that hung from metal hooks and drew light from the tree, gave it color and made it home. Home.That’s where Conan and Haibara were supposed to be.And they were… kind of. Things had been odd since they sprouted a few extra feet, reintroduced themselves as people they’d thought they’d already known. But they didn’t. Not really.They’d taken a moment to slip away from their homes, amidst the chaos and glory of torn wrapping paper, popped champagne (they weren’t allowed to partake in), and cookies. Genta had stuffed a few in a small red tin, brought it with him as they met up beyond the city-size tree at the mall. They’d thought he’d have eaten them on his way over, but he gave them a small smile and simply said: “I’m not really hungry.”They sat at the edge of it, where the small barricade was up, to keep cheerful, red-faced men from attempting to climb it, to keep children out of the ornaments the seasons might break and shatter– it was fair. They were just children. People usually made a fuss if they were hurt.Usually.Genta passed them his tin, and Mitsuhiko shared the grape juice he’d swiped in a thermos. Ayumi passed them around and did her best to smile. That was her job.“You don’t have to, you know,” Mitsuhiko said, when she rested her head on his shoulder, “Genta won’t eat. I can’t think. We’re just some kids right now, right?” And nobody knew they were here.They’d been there twenty minutes when the first snow started to fall. The city lights seemed to flicker as the flakes passed their eyes. Mitsuhiko made a comment about how each speck was different, and he raddled on for a few moments, spouting facts like a tilted faucet, but somehow he managed to say nothing at all. Genta told them about his morning, how he’d unwrapped his gifts and how he’d gotten new toys, bigger clothes, an envelope of money; he told them how he’d looked into his parents eyes and he could tell they were so proud of the undone ribbons, the empty boxes, the coins in his hands. He said it was a little funny they hadn’t noticed he ate just a piece of the fried chicken bucket. Ayumi shared little. She’d unwrapped her gifts. She’d smiled. She couldn’t remember what she’d opened or if the big box with the gold bow came from Santa. She’d been so excited the day she’d spotted it under the tree, so excited to pop it open and see what was inside, but all she could think about as she’d finally slipped the ribbon off was how, sometimes, it was better not to know.They knew that the cookies were good. Genta’s mom had made them, after all, and they could taste the silky chocolate chips, or the crunchy, sweet sprinkles and vanilla, but they ate them for the sake of eating them. The juice Mitsuhiko brought tasted like grapes, the white kind, light and fruity and sweet all the same, but they drank because it washed the crumbs down, because it gave them something to do. And it was odd that three kids couldn’t find something to keep them busy on Christmas Day, but the world moved on around them.Children were always flitting from one thing to the next, after all. Adult’s lives were much more complicated, much busier, and the pain they felt could last lifetimes. But today the adults were all happy. Some of them ate chicken with their lover in a KFC off the corner. Some of them drank and made friends with the stranger across the bar, found someone to toss back another sake with and welcome in the year that was yet to come, the snow that was yet to fall, flowers yet to bloom, people left unmet. Some were staying late at the office, pouring themselves a drink to celebrate while they wrote up another three pages, signed off another twenty documents. Some adults cradled on the couch with their children and played their new video games, watched some movies. Because adults were the only ones who really appreciated the season.That was what Conan– Shinichi– was probably doing, pulling Ran close under the Christmas tree in her dad’s office, laughing with her about all the time that had passed and yet, to him, it felt like nothing at all. Haiba– Shiho– was probably cooking for Agasa-Hakase. Mitsuhiko laughed about how he was probably trying to sneak in some potatoes and getting his hand smacked with the business-end of a ladle for it. Genta and Ayumi laughed, but not because it was funny, really, even if it was. What made it funny was how they knew someone so well yet not at all, that for a moment in time they’d had this thing, and in the next it was gone. It had never been theirs at all, actually, that’s what Conan probably would have said, if it’d been someone else. He was cynical like that. Had been. Still was.The night grew colder. The thermos Mitsuhiko passed around now clung to their hands if they touched it with their skin. Snow had coated Ayumi’s beanie, but that was why she wore it, right? She didn’t brush it off. Genta had readjusted his legs where he’d crossed them earlier, and the shift left an indent where it’d been coating his legs slowly. Usually, by now, they would have gone home. They would have gotten bored with the lights, the beauty of the tree, the spirit of the men and women passing them by, holding to each other’s hands and arms– it all would have dulled and faded by now. That wasn’t to say it hadn’t, but for the moment, there was no reason to move. They could find a restaurant, use the yen Genta slipped into his pocket that morning to get some warm drinks. But what was the point? They didn’t feel like getting up and moving, so they didn’t.Ayumi sneezed, and Mitsuhiko offered her a handkerchief. She thanked him.Christmas was supposed to be toys and money and laughter and fun. It was supposed to be frosting all over Genta’s face, new dresses for Ayumi to wear, a new telescope on Mitsuhiko’s balcony– and it was, it was… They couldn’t be too upset, really, at least they still had each other.Even if they’d walk to school alone, now. Even if they didn’t have a reason to go see Agasa-Hakase, now. Even if the adventures were going to stop, and they didn’t have a use anymore, and they weren’t detectives anymore, if they ever were. They were just children. Here, under this big Christmas tree with all the pretty ornaments in the world, with an empty cookie tin and a too-cold bottle of grape juice, they were just kids. And nobody batted an eye if they weren’t bleeding.“Ayumi-chan!”“Tsuburya-kun!”“Genta-kun!”Genta blinked, and when he looked to see if the others had heard, Ayumi brushed the snow from her face. Mitsuhiko sat up.“Ayumi-chan! Kojima-kun!”“Mitsuhiko!”In the distance, on the road leading up to the mall, a road they’d walked a million times, they spotted something new. It was dark, the sun had long set before they’d even crept from their houses. The only lights down the walls were lamps on bars, streetlights over the pavement. But they could still see golden brown hair, a small blue light from a familiar pair of glasses. Yes, they must have been gone too long, must have been hanging around under the tree for too many minutes, eating too many cookies, to notice the time. Their parents must have noticed they’d been gone. They must have stayed out past curfew.Shinichi’s eyes went wide the moment he spotted them, huffing from the effort it took to run– the skin of his face was frost-bitten and red, something they could recognize especially well behind the thick-framed, black glasses they’d known. It was almost like they knew that person again. Shiho wasn’t far behind him, and the small, pin-like iris of her eyes seemed to grow three times its size. They froze as she fell to her knees in front of them and spread her arms as wide as she could, swept them into her chest and cried into their heads as she reprimanded them half-heartedly.“You should know better! We were worried sick. Don’t you ever do this again!”Shinichi struggled to catch his breath over her shoulder, hands clutching his knees as the hot air in his chest made clouds in the snowy air. They knew they were in trouble the moment he stood straight, and maybe they weren’t detectives, but they could see the way his lips thinned.“Why didn’t you have your badges on you?! Don’t ever leave the house without them, you hear me? It took me three hours to deduce where you were!”“W-We…” Mitsuhiko was the first to try to answer, but his lips were chapped and freezing, hands frozen to his thermos in his lap, and he just couldn’t find what he wanted to say.“Why aren’t you wearing gloves?!” Shiho took his hands in hers, rubbed them furiously between her own, “It’s -2.23!” Mitsuhiko gasped, choked, but his teeth started to chatter and his eyes burned red. Shiho bristled, “Aren’t you the logical one, Tsuburaya-kun?! Tsk! I should have made more soup. Kojima-kun, you’re only allowed one bowl, understand?”Shinichi sighed and shook his head, reached for the phone in his back pocket and hit the speed dial, “I’ll let Agasa-Hakase know we’re on our way over. Ayumi, Genta, come here.”He unzipped his coat, bent down and took them into his arms and cradled them to his chest, lifted the jacket over their shoulders and pressed it to their freezing heads with his free hand. Genta dug his fingers into the jacket Shinichi wore underneath. Ayumi buried her face into his side and willed away the stopping, braking way her chest heaved with the want, need to cry. Omg thank you thank you thank you!!!!!This is so cute! I love it so much!!!!The kids missing their friends and feeling like they don’t belong And when Shinichi and Shiho come for them Thank you so much!(I actually saw this on ao3 first while looking for something to read, so I was really happy to see this fic first thing in the morning!!!) -- source link
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