Fandom: Detective Conan
Pairing: Hattori Heiji/Toyama Kazuha
Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan or any related characters. They belong to Gosho Aoyama. I simply throw fruit at them, take pictures, and call it modern art. Critics love me.
Summary: It was something they would remember years down the road.
Sometimes, Kazuha really hated playing Cops and Robbers with Heiji.
It wasn’t really the game in and of itself—that was sort of fun. She enjoyed a good chase. But Heiji took it to a whole ‘nother level. He’d been so fascinated by detective stories for so long that one day, he had gotten the crazy idea that he should become a detective, and thus the game sometimes became a bit more intense because of it.
Like right now, for example.
“Heiji!” she yelped in surprise as he jumped from somewhere above her and nearly landed on her head—where in the world had he been hanging, anyway? But it was no use—he’d gotten ahold of her arm and was not letting go.
“Gotcha!” he beamed (like an idiot, she noted privately).
Kazuha rolled her eyes and tugged to try and pull free. “Let go!”
“Nope!” Heiji smirked, pulling something out of his pocket. “Look what I found—I think they were my grandfather’s? Aren’t they neat?” The handcuffs dangled from his hand, twisting of their own volition and shining faintly in the light.
Kazuha looked at them a bit nervously before she realized what he was going to do. “Heiji, don’t—“ she started to protest, but she was cut off by the click of the handcuff locking around her wrist. She glowered at him and shook her wrist in protest. “Take it off!”
“Nope!” he grinned, oblivious (as usual) to her glare. As if to prove whatever idiotic point he was intent on making, he snapped the other half closed around his own wrist. “You’re under arrest!”
Kazuha stomped her foot. “Take it off now!”
Heiji was all smiles. “Uh-uh!” He started walking away—with their wrists connected, she had no choice but to be dragged along for the ride. “You’re going to jail!”
She didn’t know where jail was, and he didn’t seem to want to tell her, so she just let herself be bodily dragged along though his house. Unfortunately, he suddenly screeched to a stop, causing her to run right into him. It made her nose hurt.
He, however, seemed unfazed by the collision. But before he could say anything, Kazuha decided that she’d had enough. “Heiji, geez, you win already!” Kazuha huffed angrily. “Now take it off!”
He stared at her blankly, his smile fading in record time.
“Heiji,” she repeated angrily. “Take. It. Off.” She rattled the cuff around her wrist.
Suddenly, he seemed very taken by a spot on the wall.
“…where’s the key?” she demanded. Her father was a police officer—he had a pair of handcuffs, too. She knew that you took handcuffs off by unlocking them with a key. So all Heiji had to do was produce the key and she was home-free.
Literally—she was going to sprint for freedom and not stop until she got home.
She waited. And waited.
Heiji didn’t move.
After a moment, it clicked. “…you do have the key, don’t you?” she asked in a flat, even voice.
Heiji cringed; a calm voice was more dangerous than screaming. “Ummm…oops?”
Kazuha stared at him for a long moment before asking, “When are your parents getting home?”
“Not for another couple hours.”
He’d expected a lot of things—anger, rage, fury, and/or the sound of his head breaking (not necessarily in that order). But he wasn’t quite prepared for her to plop down on the top step of the staircase and burst into tears. Granted, with them chained together he was pulled to sit down next to her.
“I want it off!” she hiccupped. “I wanna go home!”
Heiji stared helplessly—it seemed that once again, he had managed to massively screw things up. “Kazuha…I’m sorry.” She didn’t seem to hear him, so he sat quietly beside her for a moment before reaching up awkwardly with his free arm to reach across her in a half-hearted hug.
She started to push him away, then seemed to decide against it for some reason. Instead, she leaned her head on his shoulder, unknowingly sending him straight to the verge of spontaneous combustion. But he didn’t move; he just let her…snuggle up…to him…
Girls were WEIRD.
“You really truly forgot about the key?” Kazuha asked after quite some time had passed.
“Ummm…I don’t think there is a key, actually,” he replied quietly.
Kazuha stood up suddenly, nearing yanking his arm off in the process. “Maybe we can get it off or something!” She started down the stairs, pulling him behind her as she raced into the kitchen.
When Heiji’s parents arrived home an hour later, they found quite a sight sitting in their kitchen: their son and his best friend were handcuffed together and staring mournfully at the metal chain that had joined them at the wrist.
And even Heizo had to bite back a chuckle when Kazuha explained that they’d tried to get it off with a pair of scissors, a knife, and a hammer. Still, he went and found an appropriate tool and cut the chain, separating them, before going about removing the individual cuffs.
Since they were now in pieces, nobody protested when Kazuha asked if she could have them.
Heiji just shrugged it off as another sign of girly weirdness.
It wasn’t until a few years later that Kazuha gave him a present…
“Heiji!” Kazuha called as he was getting up from their comfortable position on the couch. “Do you have your omamori?”
He executed a perfect teenaged eye-roll (par for the seventeen-year-old course) and sighed, “Yes, I have it. Ahou.” And he was out the door without another word.
She frowned at the use of their customary nickname, then smiled and reached up to wrap her fingers around her own omamori. They weren’t big or fancy, but they were something that would always keep them connected, just like the metal pieces tucked inside them.
PS. Why hadn’t I done this concept earlier? It’s a huge part of the Heiji/Kazuha relationship, honestly! I am what is stupid, apparently…but anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Almost done, can you believe it? Whoo! Thanks for reading, all. Much love!