Ramblings (Detective Conan, Heiji/Kazuha, #26)
Title: Ramblings
Author: fireblazie
Pairing: Heiji/Kazuha
Fandom: Detective Conan
Theme: #26 - if only I could make you mine
Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan. Am just borrowing the characters for a bit!
He doesn't remember when it started. This feeling, flooding his chest. Coming in and going out in a flash of lightning. Leaving him breathless. Strangling him. Taking over him. Making him do all these things that he knows he shouldn't - but does, anyway. It suffocates him, in a wonderfully twisted way.
He doesn't understand. And he doesn't understand why he doesn't understand. His intellect is something he greatly prides himself on, something that has earned him the renowned title of "Detective of the West."
All he knows, all that his heart has revealed to him - is that she is the cause.
The wind whizzes past his ear, a shiver traveling down his spine. He closes his eyes, wrinkles his nose, inhales - and sneezes.
"Are you getting sick?" Her concerned voice pricks his ears and he snorts at her. Her bright green eyes haunt him. He swallows.
"I'm fine." He swats at her. "Always overreacting, worrying about everything."
"If you would take care of yourself, I wouldn't have to worry," she snaps at him.
He rolls his eyes. "I never asked you to worry about me." Inside, I like it when you worry about me.
She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. When she sighs, her breath comes out in small puffs of mist. He watches it fade away, like their small argument, into the air. She starts to walk towards the school. He follows.
This is their ritual. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
-.-
They sit together at lunch, like they always do. Their spot is on the green bench beside the soccer field. It's an isolated spot, one Heiji had picked to get away from the endless teasing they attracted from their other classmates.
"Your sandwich looks good," he idly comments, glancing at the ponytailed girl's lunch - the meat, tomato, cheese, and lettuce in her sandwich.
"Really?" Kazuha inspects it. "I made it."
Heiji gapes. "You can cook?"
She rolls her eyes. "It's a sandwich, aho. Not like there was much cooking involved. And I can cook, for your information."
Heiji muses this - for some reason, the fact that she had actually made her lunch bothered him, in a way he couldn't explain. He wanted - he wanted to try it, wanted to sample some of her cooking. "Give me a bite," he says.
She blinks. "A bite?"
"Of your sandwich," he elaborates, jerking his head towards it.
"Oh. Yeah... sure." A layer of pink slides over her cheeks as she holds out the sandwich towards him. Against his better judgment, he meets her halfway, his hand reaching out to encircle her wrist. He feels her stiffen.
"Don't drop it," he warns her, liking the feel of her wrist in his hand a lot more than he should have. She scowls at him, "I won't," and he pulls her towards him, taking a large bite out of the sandwich.
His eyes land on hers as he moves away from her outstretched arm. His fingers, however, remain locked on her wrist. His eyes never leave hers.
"It tastes good," he tells her, a small and uncertain grin on his lips.
"Good," she replies, smiling back.
-.-
His eyes narrow instinctively as he sees a boy from their class lingering after school to talk to Kazuha. This isn't the first time, either. Heiji doesn't know his name, simply knows him as That Guy.
He shouldn't care, this he knows. But he does, and tilts his head at just the right angle to get an optimum view of the situation.
His eyes narrow further as That Guy places a hand on Kazuha's shoulder. He continues to watch, eagle-eyed.
He just about has a heart attack when That Guy reaches in and pulls Kazuha to him for a hug. He just about dies when she returns the hug loosely, laughing as they pull apart.
The feeling worsens, taking over every inch of him. Why? What does this mean? He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he -
Oh.
Unless..
Unless he..
But - but it couldn't -
Oh, boy.
Really?
-.-
He refuses to acknowledge her presence on their way back home after school. This serves to infuriate her, and she stomps loudly, angrily down the sidewalk.
"What's wrong with you?" she demands.
"Nothing," he mutters.
She glowers at him, walking around so that they're looking directly at each other. "Heiji.."
"That guy," he spits out.
"What guy?" Apparently, she hadn't expected that answer.
"From after school," he mumbles.
"Machida-kun?" She blinks at him. "We go to aikido together. So what?"
"..." Heiji silently fumes.
"What?"
"...you hugged him.."
She gapes incredulously at him. "So? It was just a hug."
"You're not supposed to go around hugging other guys." Possessiveness creeps into his voice.
Kazuha frowns and furrows her brow, struggling to digest this information. "I - what?"
The words won't come out. They're stuck in his throat, hanging over the tip of his tongue. All he knows - and he doesn't even know how he knows or why it is he feels this way, only that he does...
If she were his...
If you were mine... if you were, then...
She's not allowed to hug other guys except for me, his heart tells him, and all he can do is obey.
"Why do you care who I hug?" Bitterness creeps into her voice as she turns away from him. He acts completely on instinct and grabs her by the elbow, pulling her to him in a tight embrace.
It all happens in a blur.
He lowers his head to hers and kisses her - hungrily, angrily, desperately. He pulls away to meet startled green eyes.
"That's why," he says.
- fin -
Author: fireblazie
Pairing: Heiji/Kazuha
Fandom: Detective Conan
Theme: #26 - if only I could make you mine
Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan. Am just borrowing the characters for a bit!
He doesn't remember when it started. This feeling, flooding his chest. Coming in and going out in a flash of lightning. Leaving him breathless. Strangling him. Taking over him. Making him do all these things that he knows he shouldn't - but does, anyway. It suffocates him, in a wonderfully twisted way.
He doesn't understand. And he doesn't understand why he doesn't understand. His intellect is something he greatly prides himself on, something that has earned him the renowned title of "Detective of the West."
All he knows, all that his heart has revealed to him - is that she is the cause.
The wind whizzes past his ear, a shiver traveling down his spine. He closes his eyes, wrinkles his nose, inhales - and sneezes.
"Are you getting sick?" Her concerned voice pricks his ears and he snorts at her. Her bright green eyes haunt him. He swallows.
"I'm fine." He swats at her. "Always overreacting, worrying about everything."
"If you would take care of yourself, I wouldn't have to worry," she snaps at him.
He rolls his eyes. "I never asked you to worry about me." Inside, I like it when you worry about me.
She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. When she sighs, her breath comes out in small puffs of mist. He watches it fade away, like their small argument, into the air. She starts to walk towards the school. He follows.
This is their ritual. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
-.-
They sit together at lunch, like they always do. Their spot is on the green bench beside the soccer field. It's an isolated spot, one Heiji had picked to get away from the endless teasing they attracted from their other classmates.
"Your sandwich looks good," he idly comments, glancing at the ponytailed girl's lunch - the meat, tomato, cheese, and lettuce in her sandwich.
"Really?" Kazuha inspects it. "I made it."
Heiji gapes. "You can cook?"
She rolls her eyes. "It's a sandwich, aho. Not like there was much cooking involved. And I can cook, for your information."
Heiji muses this - for some reason, the fact that she had actually made her lunch bothered him, in a way he couldn't explain. He wanted - he wanted to try it, wanted to sample some of her cooking. "Give me a bite," he says.
She blinks. "A bite?"
"Of your sandwich," he elaborates, jerking his head towards it.
"Oh. Yeah... sure." A layer of pink slides over her cheeks as she holds out the sandwich towards him. Against his better judgment, he meets her halfway, his hand reaching out to encircle her wrist. He feels her stiffen.
"Don't drop it," he warns her, liking the feel of her wrist in his hand a lot more than he should have. She scowls at him, "I won't," and he pulls her towards him, taking a large bite out of the sandwich.
His eyes land on hers as he moves away from her outstretched arm. His fingers, however, remain locked on her wrist. His eyes never leave hers.
"It tastes good," he tells her, a small and uncertain grin on his lips.
"Good," she replies, smiling back.
-.-
His eyes narrow instinctively as he sees a boy from their class lingering after school to talk to Kazuha. This isn't the first time, either. Heiji doesn't know his name, simply knows him as That Guy.
He shouldn't care, this he knows. But he does, and tilts his head at just the right angle to get an optimum view of the situation.
His eyes narrow further as That Guy places a hand on Kazuha's shoulder. He continues to watch, eagle-eyed.
He just about has a heart attack when That Guy reaches in and pulls Kazuha to him for a hug. He just about dies when she returns the hug loosely, laughing as they pull apart.
The feeling worsens, taking over every inch of him. Why? What does this mean? He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he -
Oh.
Unless..
Unless he..
But - but it couldn't -
Oh, boy.
Really?
-.-
He refuses to acknowledge her presence on their way back home after school. This serves to infuriate her, and she stomps loudly, angrily down the sidewalk.
"What's wrong with you?" she demands.
"Nothing," he mutters.
She glowers at him, walking around so that they're looking directly at each other. "Heiji.."
"That guy," he spits out.
"What guy?" Apparently, she hadn't expected that answer.
"From after school," he mumbles.
"Machida-kun?" She blinks at him. "We go to aikido together. So what?"
"..." Heiji silently fumes.
"What?"
"...you hugged him.."
She gapes incredulously at him. "So? It was just a hug."
"You're not supposed to go around hugging other guys." Possessiveness creeps into his voice.
Kazuha frowns and furrows her brow, struggling to digest this information. "I - what?"
The words won't come out. They're stuck in his throat, hanging over the tip of his tongue. All he knows - and he doesn't even know how he knows or why it is he feels this way, only that he does...
If she were his...
If you were mine... if you were, then...
She's not allowed to hug other guys except for me, his heart tells him, and all he can do is obey.
"Why do you care who I hug?" Bitterness creeps into her voice as she turns away from him. He acts completely on instinct and grabs her by the elbow, pulling her to him in a tight embrace.
It all happens in a blur.
He lowers his head to hers and kisses her - hungrily, angrily, desperately. He pulls away to meet startled green eyes.
"That's why," he says.
- fin -