Theme: Day Six: Birth, family, feasts
Series: Detective Conan
Pairing: Hattori Heiji/Toyama Kazuha
Warnings: This one is pretty.
Disclaimer of Evil: I don’t own Detective Conan. All characters and concepts are the sole property of Gosho Aoyama. I merely borrow them and make them my love slaves…ahem.
I sat upon your knee
I wrote to you with childhood fantasies
Well, I'm all grown up now
And still need help somehow
I'm not a child, but my heart still can dream...
She is beautiful, Heiji reflects—not for the first time, though. He has had plenty of time to observe, and each time he notices something new, some new facet to her that reflects the light in a different direction and shines with an entirely new glow.
He shuts off the overhead light. Now the only glow in the room comes from the lights on the Christmas tree; they twinkle and sparkle like stars, casting tiny dots of multicolored light on her skin. She does not notice, and she does not stir. It has been a long day.
A long day, indeed.
They entertained the family today, in honor of the holiday. Two sets of parents joined the young couple, married less than a year, to celebrate Christmas with an enormous dinner that Kazuha had spent all day preparing. It was delightful; everyone had a wonderful time. But Heiji was strangely relieved to see them go. It meant he could be alone with her.
He had locked the front door and made sure all was in order before he had gone seeking his wife. He had found her sound asleep on the couch beside the Christmas tree. She was laid out on her back, one arm behind her head, the other hanging limply over the edge of the couch, and her hair spread around her like a halo of chocolate-colored silk.
She still wears the ponytail—it is almost her trademark, after all. And it keeps her hair out of her way while she’s running around (often keeping her somewhat-brash husband in line). But more and more often, when it’s just the two of them at home, she lets her hair down. He loves her hair.
Even now, with it spread out behind her head like that, he cannot help himself. His fingers find themselves sliding gingerly through the dark brown locks, taking great care not to disturb her.
He likes to look at her sometimes. For all that they bicker—and they do, constantly, about everything—he can’t imagine himself with anyone else, can’t picture any other person by his side. Ever.
Especially after tonight.
During dinner, Kazuha had managed to pull the rug out from under him in the most unexpected of ways…and he had been thrilled. Everyone at the table had been delighted at the news, and Christmas had become a celebration in more ways than one.
But now they are alone. Just them, and the knowledge that things are changing.
He moves around her now, to sit beside her. She still does not stir, and he smiles; he’ll wake her up soon, if for no other reason than to move her from the couch to the comfort of their bed. But for now, it’s not important.
Kazuha…she is so beautiful.
Heiji thinks back to her announcement at dinner, with their parents, watching him with that ‘cat ate the canary’ grin. Candlelight sparkled in green eyes as she spoke softly, turning his world upside down in the most amazing way imaginable. The delighted cries of his parents and hers, while he stared at her in surprise and admiration.
He has known her for so long. Even after marrying her, he sometimes has trouble looking at her as the adult he knows she is—he looks at her and every once in a while, he sees the little girl or the teenager she once was. And now, there is no doubt. They’ve both grown up.
Taken by some sudden impulse, he leans down and slides his arms under her, around her waist, and curls up beside her to rest his head against her stomach. He can feel the rise and fall of her slow, even breathing, and the steady pulse of her heart beating. And then he feels her move. She is waking up.
“Hmmm…Heiji?” Kazuha murmurs, stirring slightly. The hand that has been hanging over the edge of the sofa moves to encircle his shoulders. “What’re you doing?” She doesn’t sound angry at being woken up, but merely confused at his sudden proximity.
“Shhh…” he shushes, not releasing her. “Can we stay like this? Just for a minute?”
Kazuha looks down at the top of her husband’s head for a moment before smiling and relaxing. Her other hand moves from where she has been using it as a pillow to rest on the back of his head. She feels his breathing, steady and deep, and echoes his sigh of contentment.
He was surprised when she told him, and their families. And for a moment, she had wondered briefly if he might go so far as to faint from the news. But instead, she found her hand entwined with his beneath the table, and his eyes continually straying in her direction as he smiled.
“Come on,” he says suddenly, sitting up and pulling her up with him. Feeling a bit silly, he scoops her up bridal-style. “I think it’s bedtime.” She murmurs a bit—it sounds like a weak protest—but her head lulls comfortably against his chest as he carries her to bed.
A long time ago, he remembers, he made a promise to her. No one would ever hurt her when she was with him, if he had anything to say about it. He swore to her as they dangled from a tree-branch over a cliff that he would never let her go, even if he died.
Several months ago, he made another promise, a promise she returned. And they were joined by metal once again, though in a far different way. And now, another promise—one that they created.
The promise of a new life, growing.