Fandom: Detective Conan
Characters: Shiho (General series)
Word Count: 752 words
Author's Notes: I do not own Detective Conan. It all belongs to Gosho Aoyama. I simply borrow the characters, tie them up, and dance them around like life-sized puppets. I do wish they’d stop complaining.
Summary: There was a reason that Shiho hated sunsets.
Miyano Shiho always hated sunsets.
It wasn’t the sunsets themselves, really. They were beautiful, of course, painting the sky with the full range of Mother Nature’s warmest pallet in hues of yellow and orange and pink and red and every possible hue in between. Those beautiful fingers would reach across the sky until the very last ray of light had vanished behind the horizon, and the heavens would finally fade away into the darkness and beauty of the starry night.
She could appreciate the beauty of the sunset.
What she hated about it was what it could bring.
As a young child, she remembered looking outside at the sky as the sun was going down. The sunset was unusually red that night, with the sky almost looking as though it had been painted with blood. She had not really made that particular connection, and simply admired it for being lovely.
The next day, she was orphaned when her parents were lost. She had no family left, save for her sister Akemi. And she clung to Akemi for protection and guidance in a place where such things were almost unheard of. Her sister rose to the challenge, though, and was able to instill in her the right morals and the right beliefs to keep her from falling into the trap that was the Syndicate and the Syndicate’s less than legal practices.
She did not see another sunset like that for some years. The next time she did, she was in her late teens, and she looked out to see that the sun was soaking the sky in that same blood-red color. She recalled the last time she had seen anything like that, and what had happened afterwards. It sent a chill through her, but she wrote it off as impractical. Shiho was all about practicality.
The next day, she received word of her sister’s death.
She had now lost everything she held dear. She had been left with only the cold comfort of science, and it no longer could distract her from how she felt and her need to know why. And not long after it all happened, she made her stand: she would do no more work for the Syndicate until she received an explanation as to why her sister had been murdered.
That night, the sky was crimson.
The next day, Gin and Vodka came for her, and she attempted to take her own life. A twist of fate saved her, and gave her the chance to flee from all of this and take a chance. Because of that little pill and a one in a million chance, she was able to find solace and shelter with the one person who could truly understand what she was going through and how she felt.
Ironically, he was also the one person who had more reason to hate her than anyone else, yet did not. He protected her, offered her a shield and a thin veneer of normality when everything beneath the surface was in a chaotic turmoil.
She feared for him as he continued to investigate the Syndicate, because she knew far better than he did what they were capable of and what could happen to them. Death was not the worst fate in the world, she warned him. There were things far worse than simply being killed, and the killers of the Black Organization, people like Gin and Vodka and Vermouth, knew all of them and how to exploit them.
One day, he brought news to her: they had found a lead on the Black Organization. And they were going to go look into it in the morning. If things went well, the results would be incredibly rewarding, possibly even cracking the case. He was thrilled at the prospect of being able to come out of hiding at long last.
She took the news quietly and with a smile. She trusted him, and trusted that he would be careful. That night, she absently glanced out the window, still wondering what the next day would bring and if his lead would pan out and give them a victory at last. He was already on his way, in the company of a couple of close friends who knew of the situation and had agreed to help.
And she saw the sky, the sunset, the omen she had dreaded seeing.
Dark, vibrant red, like human blood.
Knowing what it meant and what the next day would bring, she hung her head and wept.
PS. I put up a drabble request over on my LJ, and this was a plunnie given to me there, and I had to write it. Thanks for reading, all! Much love!