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It was when he came back from a particularly gruesome date with Ran that he first noticed.
Her birthday had been just around the corner, and Shinichi didn’t want to let it pass by without doing something for her. He wasn’t able to stay by her side, wasn’t able to comfort her when she had her occasional bouts of worry and doubt, so at the very least, he wanted to make her birthday special. He could make it up to her for the rest of his life after the Black Organization was properly put away, but for now, a single day would have to be enough.
Haibara seemed perfectly fine when he had visited her for the antidote in the afternoon, but when he visited the Professor’s house the next day, she looked slightly pale, dark circles hooking themselves deep into the corners of her eyes.
“So the princess’ shining knight graces me with his presence,” she drawled, planting a cheek on her palm. “Need something else from me? I’m not giving you another one, so don’t bother ask.”
“Someone’s in a bad mood,” he teased, grinning wide when she glared at him. “And no, I wasn’t going to ask that. Can’t I be here because I genuinely wanted to see you?”
She was surprised for a moment, but just as quick as it came it left, and she frowned, dispassionately staring at a pile of papers in front of her.
“And since when are you ever here to just see me?” She took another sip of her coffee and grimaced. Placing it firmly on the table and pushing it away from her, she said, “Just tell me what you want and leave.”
“I wanted to thank you,” he said, and he relished in the momentary awe on her face. “We had a good time because of you. I know that you were really hesitant to give me the antidote, so I was really careful not to draw attention to myself this time.”
He thought that Haibara would have been at least a little relieved that he had tried to take her feelings into consideration, maybe cracked a smirk or gave another one of her caustic quips, but instead, her expression was perfectly schooled. She picked up the report next to her, her eyes skimming it without actually reading it.
“Well, good for you. You could have easily told me that with a text, but that’s fine. Now if that’s all, I’m sure that you can see yourself out.”
Shinichi didn’t think that being brushed off so harshly would have gotten under his skin so much, but Haibara seemed to have a knack for doing that to him. He had a knee-jerk reaction to dish out his own haughty retort and to rile her up, just so that she would at least look at him for more than five seconds, but he grunted instead, shoving his hands in his pockets and slinking out the door.
When he saw her in class the next day, she gave him a tight smile, and try as he might to hold onto his grudges, he couldn’t, and he traded her one with his own. He didn’t dwell on her mood swings; Haibara was known to be particularly nasty when it suited her, and so as long as things were eventually patched up between the two of them—either through his initiation or hers—he really didn’t care all that much.
Two weeks later, he was on a trip with the old man and Ran in Osaka when he got a phone call from Haibara. He hadn’t picked up right away; he had been in the middle of a crime scene, and he was mere centimeters away from figuring out who the culprit was, but right after he backed the perpetrator into a corner with Hattori’s help, he called Haibara back. Strangely enough, it took her twice as long to answer as it normally would have, and he felt a cold tong clasp itself around his chest.
“…What?”
He breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.
“What do you mean ‘what,’ didn’t you just call me ten minutes ago?”
“I suppose I did.” She cleared her throat. “It’s not important anyways. I have it under control.”
“Did something happen?”
“Nothing of note,” she said, and this time he caught how hoarse her voice sounded.
“Are you sick? You sound a little funny.”
“No, just a sore throat. I’m hanging up now.”
“Hey, wait—” He flinched when the call ended, pulling it back from his ear. Incredulous, he stared at the screen before sighing and folding his phone, sliding it into his back pocket. If Haibara said that she had it under control, then he wouldn’t fight her on it. If only she wasn’t so curt about it…
“That Haibara,” he grumbled under his breath.
“What happened to Ai-chan?”
He swiveled around, and there was Ran, leaning in front of him, her hands on her knees, and her hair dangling between them. He stepped back once, hiding his fidgeting fingers behind him, and gave her his brightest smile.
“Nuh-uh, it’s nothing, Ran-neechan. I think she just called me on accident, that’s all.”
“Really? If you’re sure…” She gracefully dropped the subject, instead holding out her hand for him to take, and he did so eagerly. It wasn’t every day that he got to hold Ran’s hand like this; even if he could only do this as Conan, he would take what he could get.
After he returned, when he visited the Professor’s house this time around, Professor Agasa was strangely shifty, his clumsiness reaching an all-time high. He tripped over his own shoes, spilled his coffee once, broke two of his good mugs, and burnt the rolled omelets he made for Shinichi into four crisp charcoal bricks. Shinichi knew that Agasa wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he also knew he wasn’t that bad. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something was wrong.
“Gimme that,” Shinichi snapped, grabbing the spatula from his hands, flipping the second batch of eggs over. “And tell me what happened. Where’s Haibara, anyways? Locked up in the lab again?”
“Ah, no, no, she’s…out. With the others.”
“The others?” He glanced at his watch. “But it’s almost nine at night.”
“It is, isn’t it.” Something in Agasa’s tone made Shinichi look up, and he noted that the professor had his back towards him, presumably neatening up the living room. Which wouldn’t have been strange in a vacuum, but considering that Agasa was usually an open book, so much so that Haibara always knew whether or not he binged on sweets even if he hid all of his tracks, that had to mean that he didn’t want Shinichi to see his expression.
“You’re lying,” he stated plainly, and watched in smug satisfaction as Agasa’s shoulders sprung to life for a split second. “I don’t really see any reason for you to hide something like that from me, so it must have been Haibara. Does this have anything to do with a certain call?”
“Ah, well…”
“Yes, then.” Shinichi thought about it, about how hoarse her voice sounded, almost as if she had been screaming… “The Black Organization didn’t come after her, right? They shouldn’t know she’s alive after the Bell Tree.”
“No, she’s safe from them.”
From them, Shinichi picked out, but didn’t comment on. Still, Agasa would have told him if Haibara had been kidnapped by someone else, and he would have been more frantic if she was injured. If it wasn’t the Black Organization and Haibara wasn’t kidnapped or injured by someone else, then she was probably just sick. Knowing her, she probably didn’t want to worry him. She had a knack for being too considerate at the most inconvenient times. But then why would she call him? It didn’t make sense.
He shrugged it off. “Well, if Haibara doesn’t want to tell me, that’s fine.” He turned off the stove, heaping his partially burnt omelet rolls on a plate. “You don’t have to tell me what happened, either. It’s obviously connected to her. If something drastic happens, I’ll trust you’ll tell me.”
“Of course,” Agasa hurriedly agreed, and Shinichi’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he let it go.
When he saw her the next day, though, he made sure to mention it.
“Looks like you’re feeling better,” he muttered as she passed him by on the way to her desk. She froze mid-step, her eyes wide, before she jerkily nodded, scraped her chair loudly against the floor, sat down, and pointedly stared out the window. “Must have been pretty bad if you wanted to hide it from me.”
“Or it could be that it wasn’t important.”
“But you told Professor Agasa not to say anything. If it wasn’t important, then you wouldn’t have tried to silence him.”
“The symptoms appeared worse than they actually were,” she answered clinically, reaching inside of her front pocket for her medicine box. She popped it open, chose a small green pill on the far right corner, opened her mouth, and swallowed it dry. “The professor was needlessly worried and wanted to tell you, so I told him not to. Any other questions you’d like to interrogate me with, or am I free to live my life now?”
He scowled. “You’re so damn ungrateful. I was worried about you; the least you can do is be a little thankful.” He did leave her alone after that, checking his phone for any new messages, busying himself with the latest news—there was another complicated locked-room murder splattered on the front page; if the victim was indeed connected to Diet member Mochizuki Yuichiro, Inspector Megure was going to have a lot on his plate—and doodling in his notebook. But when Haibara stood up after class, his mind couldn’t help but point out a small red smear on the side of her denim jeans, almost as if she wiped something on the side of her pants. Blood, it looked like, but it was such a minuscule amount that while Shinichi noted it, he didn’t say anything.
Four days rolled by, and Sonoko invited Ran and the Detective Boys to her villa on the edge of Kagoshima. He didn’t care too much to go, but between Ran and Ayumi, he wasn’t given much of a choice. At the very least, he was looking forward to an excellent view. The swimsuit Sonoko chose for Ran this time around was a little provocative, but it suited her frame nicely. Not that he would ever have a chance to tell her that, but he was sure that she would get enough compliments regardless.
Of course it was then when Haibara fell ill.
She was perfectly fine on the trip up to Kagoshima, chatting amicably with Ayumi and Mitsuhiko and wiping the side of Genta’s mouth, scolding him about his slovenly eating habits, but when it came time for them to visit the beach, she began to cough. She coughed and coughed until Ayumi rushed to her side, rubbing her back, Sonoko and Ran not too far behind.
“Are you okay, Ai-chan?” Ran placed a hand on Haibara’s forehead and she flinched, pushing her away.
“I-I’m fine,” she said, turning to the side. “I just have a cold. I thought I got over it, but I guess I didn’t.”
“You should rest,” Ran said. “I can stay back with you.”
“No, it’s fine. Don’t let me keep you; I can take care of myself.”
Ran was unsure, but Sonoko clasped her shoulder.
“Ai-chan is the most mature one in the group. If there’s anyone that can take care of themselves, it’s her. And she said not to worry about it. Besides, the brat will take care of her too, won’t he?”
Shinichi did a double-take. “What?”
Sonoko sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re going to leave Ai-chan all by herself in the villa. If anything happens, you’re the one who’s the best to take care of it, right? Then it only makes sense that you stay back with her. You can join us tomorrow; we’ll be staying here for three days before we leave.”
“No, I don’t need anyone else with me. I brought my own medicine just in case. And I already put my food in the fridge. I’ll be fine,” she insisted, but Shinichi took a good look at her complexion and there were dark sags under her eyes again. Her lips were slightly tinted blue, but her teeth and tongue were too red. That meant that she was…
“You’re right, Sonoko-neechan. I’ll stay,” Shinichi said, and her gaze darted to him, desperation wedged deep inside of her eyes. He ignored it, coming behind Haibara and pushing her back towards the villa despite her protests, waving at them. She stumbled away from him when he closed the door, and he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s really wrong,” Shinichi started, “since you obviously don’t have a cold.”
“Believe it or not, not everything’s a dire emergency, Kudo-kun,” Haibara said, quickly retreating back into her shared room, most likely to search for her pills again. “It really is just a cold. I appreciate your concern, but you’re worrying for no reason.”
“Am I?” He caught up to her, grabbing the palm of her hand, pressing his thumb firmly in the center, observing as her sickly pale skin lethargically puffed back up. “You’ve been losing a lot of blood over a simple cold.”
She snatched her hand away, holding it to her chest as if she burned it. “Do you mind?”
“Sorry,” he shrugged, not feeling an ounce of remorse, “but if you tell me what’s going on, maybe I can help. I don’t even understand why you’re so secretive about this. It’s been going on for far too long, don’t you think?”
“It’s…it’s not something that can just be cured,” she said, rubbing her arm. “And no, before you ask, you won’t catch it. It’s just me. It has nothing to do with the Apotoxin, either. I’ll—” she held back a cough, her shoulders trembling, “I’ll get better eventually. So don’t worry about me.”
“Then is there anything I can do at least?”
She was going to say something, but reconsidered at the last moment.
“You don’t need to do anything. Just staying by my side is more than enough.”
Those words triggered something in the back of Shinichi’s mind, like a puzzle piece being firmly planted into place, but there was no way that that was the case. Haibara wasn’t like that, she never once looked at him in that way, and even if she did, he—
That couldn’t be it.
But as the days went by, he began to notice things that he hadn’t noticed before. The way she always glanced back at him earnestly whenever they were in a pinch, the way she clung onto him in the face of danger, the way she would blush and scowl whenever he got under her skin just right, the way she proudly grinned at him whenever she figured out a clue faster than he did, the way she dismissively brushed off his compliments only to smile to herself when she thought he wasn’t looking…she hid it well, but he wasn’t a detective for nothing.
The final piece fell on his lap in the form of a bloodied petal.
Shinichi has been keeping an eye on Haibara ever since they came back from Kagoshima, but he relaxed when he saw her recovering. It was slower than he thought; it took a long time for her complexion to return back to normal and she was still coughing, but he didn’t think that she was bleeding anymore, and that was what mattered the most.
He obviously hadn’t been paying enough attention.
It was a week after he returned from their impromptu vacation at the villa that he went to the Professor’s again. He broke his tracking glasses and his spare glasses when he was chasing one of the culprits for a kidnapping case, and he was set to travel with Kogoro to Fukuoka tomorrow. It didn’t take much time for Agasa to fix it, so he figured he would drop by in the afternoon and pick it up in the morning before he left. But when he entered, it was deathly quiet.
“Doctor?” There wasn’t a response. “Haibara?”
He made his way to the living room and then the kitchen, and it was then that he noticed something on the ground. Crouching to his knees, he inspected it closely and almost recoiled at the acidic scent on it. It was a single bloodied petal, slick with saliva. From the shape, it was most likely not a rose, but a white Carmella. And if it had saliva on it, then…
There was a shuffle somewhere close, and he got up and ran towards the sound. His eyes darted, searching for another hint as to where they might be, but it was silent again.
Until he heard a horribly wet cough and a retching noise.
The bathroom, Shinichi thought, and he wrenched open the door, arriving to the sobering sight of Haibara hovering the toilet bowl, the professor soothingly rubbing her back. They both froze when he came in, but Haibara was the one who reacted first.
She wiped her mouth with the palm of her hand. “No. Get out.”
“Haibara—”
“Get out!”
Shinichi glared at her, taking a step forward instead. “You can’t just expect me to leave you like this. You’re crazy if you think I’m going to do that.”
“I don’t—” She coughed again and heaved, regurgitating pungent piles of sickly maroon petals and chunks of foul-smelling clots, “I don’t care about what you want. I’m the one that’s sick, not you. And what I want is for you to go. Go, and pretend you never saw this.”
“And you think I’m going to just agree with you when I’m the one responsible for this?” She flinched violently, and he stepped closer. “I’m not an idiot, Haibara. It’s pretty obvious that I’m the reason you have—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” Haibara snarled, abruptly interrupting him. “Don’t even think about it. And if you care about me even a little bit, you’ll leave right now.”
“That’s—” Not fair, he wanted to argue, but when he glanced at the professor, hoping that Agasa would take his side, Agasa gave a pleading look to Shinichi, and he tsked. “Damn it. Fine, I’m out of your way.”
He waited patiently until the retching stopped and the toilet flushed, picking up one of Haibara’s more recent reports on the Apotoxin to pass the time. When Haibara came out with Professor Agasa, his sturdy hand guiding her by the shoulder, he stood up. The professor was surprised to see him there, but Haibara wasn’t. She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at him balefully.
“I thought I told you to leave.”
“We need to talk, Haibara.”
Her eyes cooled and flickered away from him, disinterested. “There’s nothing to talk about. Professor, if you would.”
Irritated, Shinichi stalked over and grabbed Haibara’s arm, fastening his hold when she tried to pull away. Agasa was already back by her side, trying to convince Shinichi to calm down, but his words were gnats in his ears.
“We can do this with or without an audience. But we’re going to talk,” he hissed, and she glowered, yanking her arm back.
“You’re incredibly selfish, Kudo-kun,” she snapped.
“It takes one to know one,” Shinichi retorted lowly. “Now are we going to stand out here in the open, or are you going to take us somewhere a little more private?”
In the end, she ended up spinning right on her heels, leading him straight into her room. She slammed the door behind him and plopped on her bed.
“Go on,” she said, folding her arms, “begin your interrogation.”
“God, you’re insufferable,” Shinichi mumbled, and sat next to her, crossing his legs. “How long has this been going on?”
“A while.”
“How long is ‘a while’?”
“Does it matter?” She bowed her head, her bangs covering her face. “Nothing will change anyways. And I don’t want it to.” Clearing her throat again—she reached over to the end of her bed, right near her pillowcase, grabbed a tissue, held it to her mouth, and crumpled it into a ball—she continued. “Before you ask, yes, I’ve developed a temporary stopper for the symptoms. I take it three times every day.”
“The green pills,” Shinichi confirmed, and sighed when she didn’t deny it. The answer really had been in front of him all along. “And if you have had time to develop a temporary mollifier, then you must have had this for a long time.”
After a moment, he tested the words on his tongue.
“You love me, don’t you.”
She flinched, scooting away from him as if she committed some heinous crime, and without looking, he grabbed her wrist, keeping her in place. He kept his head straight, contemplating. Shinichi knew something was wrong when he found blood smeared on the side of Haibara’s denim jeans, but he hadn’t realized it was this bad. Or maybe, he thought to himself, he chose not to see. But now that the evidence was right in front of him, he knew he couldn’t ignore it any longer. If Haibara’s medicine wasn’t working anymore, then her health had depreciated to the point where it was almost irreversible.
If he chose to do this, he wouldn’t be able to pursue Ran for a very long time, if ever again. Hanahaki disease was a psychosomatic illness, and it required that the person in question had absolute faith that their love was requited. And with how cautious and fragile Haibara was, it would take an exceedingly long time for her to believe that he truly loved her. Only when she was completely convinced that he would remain with her would her body begin to repair the damage it’s done. And even then, she would still need to be hospitalized to remove any remaining calcium flowers from her body. Worse yet, for those who had a genetic disposition to Hanahaki, it was likely to resurface at any time in that person’s life.
But it wasn’t worth losing Haibara to have Ran. He needed both of them safe and sound above all else, even his own happiness.
“I can love you, Haibara,” he said slowly, and he felt when her head whipped around to stare at him. “You’re important to me, so if that’s what you need, I can give it to you.”
She shook her head feverishly, trying her best to tug her quivering arm from him. “But I don’t want you to—”
“For just once in your life,” he cut her off, “can’t you trust me?”
“I do trust you, Kudo-kun.”
“Then prove it right now. Don’t worry about anything else except getting better. And don’t even think about straining yourself. I’m not above asking the professor to install hidden cameras in your room.” He slid his hand down to the palm of her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. “Alright?”
“I…” She looked up at him helplessly and then away, biting her lip. “What about Ran-san?”
His grip tightened. “She’ll find someone else.”
“Kudo-kun—”
“She’s not the one that I’m concerned with right now,” Shinichi said. “I won’t say that I’m not upset, but I don’t have to worry about her. She’s not the one who’s gravely ill. You are.” He reached over and pried her other hand open, unraveling the ball of tissue in her hand. The Carmella petal between them spoke for itself.
“The meaning of the white and yellow Tsubaki is ‘Waiting’ and ‘Longing,’ isn’t it?” He gave her a small smile. “You’ve been waiting for me for a long time, Haibara. Haven’t you?”
“I-it hasn’t been that long. And I can handle it, really.” She pulled her arms away and hugged herself, steeling herself. “I’m not going to do it. You may be willing to, but I won’t. And I already have a prototype for the next antidote anyways, so—”
“Your stubbornness isn’t attractive,” Shinichi muttered, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. Her breath hitched as he ran his fingers through her hair. When she relaxed, he knew he did the right thing. “Just let me take care of you, Haibara. I want to.”
Slowly nodding, she buried her face in his shoulder, and even though she tried to muffle it, he still heard her sniffles. They stayed like that for the entire night until she eventually fell unconscious, and he laid her gently on her bed, taking a seat on the ground in front of her.
After that, things had become progressively better.
She wasn’t the touchy-feely type, so not a lot changed between them. They both agreed not to advertise their arrangement, and when they were with the others, they agreed not to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves. That also meant that they weren't going to carry trinkets that they brought for each other, like the bracelet Shinichi got for Haibara, or the fashionable necktie Haibara brought for him. With the exception of Agasa, no one knew about it. No one suspected a thing.
But three months passed by, and somehow, of all people, it was Ran who figured it out.
“That’s so cute,” she said to them one day, stooping down to their height. “Are you two dating?”
Haibara’s eyes widened in panic, and then she glanced at him before shifting away from him.
“N—”
He grabbed her arm, lightly yanking her back. “Yup! How’d you guess, Ran-neechan?”
“I knew it.” She giggled. “You two are really subtle about it, but I feel like you’re more in sync, you know? And Ai-chan,” she tapped on Haibara’s shoulder, “that’s Conan-kun’s sweater that he brought with his birthday money in March. He’s really picky about his things, so I figured that you would have to be really close with him for you to wear his clothes. I think that’s sweet.” She smiled warmly at Shinichi, and his heart restricted painfully. “You take good care of Ai-chan, okay?”
He beamed at her, ignoring Haibara’s tugs on his sleeve. And if his smile stretched too wide, it wasn’t at all because he was bold-facedly lying to the woman he truly loved, and it certainly wasn’t because there was a gaping hole in his chest. He wasn’t having any last minute regrets, none at all.
“Uh-huh! I promise.”
When she rubbed his hair and left, running to catch back up with Sonoko and Sera, Haibara hissed, “What do you think you’re doing? Now you won’t ever be able to tell her the truth!”
Shinichi snorted. “Oh, come off it. I told you, didn’t I? I’ll take care of you.” His eyes scanned her face, and satisfied, he grinned. “You’re looking a lot healthier now. You haven’t been bleeding any more than usual, right?”
“This is the sixth time you’ve asked me that this week,” Haibara replied drily. “I’m pretty sure you would have known by now if my health took a sudden turn for the worst.”
“It never hurts to ask.” He began to stroll leisurely, and Haibara fell in line next to him. “Hey, I’ve been wondering. Why don’t you ever tell me how you feel?”
“…you already know how I feel for you.”
“But humor me! Tell me you love me. It’s not like we aren’t going out.”
“Care to say that any louder?”
“You want me to?”
“You’re being incredibly immature right now,” she huffed, and picked up her pace. Shinichi’s grin broadened, and he matched her speed.
“Just once,” he prodded, and she stopped. “Tell me once and I won’t bug you about it ever again.”
“Why should I? I know you don’t feel the same for me.”
“You don’t actually think that, or else your condition would be a lot worse,” Shinichi pointed out. “Besides, it feels good to know that someone cares for me so much.”
“I’m not going to boost your ego, Kudo-kun.” But she still stopped in the center of the sidewalk, her hands gripping onto the ripples of her navy skirt, bunched underneath her fingers. Breathing once, she mumbled a single word.
“I…” Clearing her throat, she tried again, but to no avail. “I…”
Curious, Shinichi lowered his head slightly, trying to get a good view of her face, but her bangs were in the way. Without even thinking about it, as if he were at home with her, he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. Shocked, she pulled away from him, one hand covering her ear, the other in-between the two of them, a makeshift blockade for herself. And her expression was…
Well, if she looked like that more often, he could definitely grow to love her.
Just as he expected, when she ranted and raved at him, he felt the gaping hole slowly fill up with something. It wasn’t love; he didn’t love Haibara, and the both of them knew that. It took him weeks to convince him to get her to even imagine that he could possibly love her. What he felt for her was something a bit nuanced than that. The two of them weren’t lovers like Ran thought, but they weren’t just friends. They had become undefined, a pair that simply was.
But if he felt satisfied when Haibara was by his side and Haibara was content to have him around, then maybe love wasn’t needed after all. Ran may have been his heart’s desire, but he was Haibara’s cornerstone. And Haibara has become his.
That was good enough for him, he supposed.