Candyland (candyfics) wrote,

Hawaii Days: The Diary of Kudo Shinichi (DC)

Title: Hawaii Days: The Diary of Kudo Shinichi
Fandom: Detective Conan
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humor
Publish Date: 3/21/2006
Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan. But I do have homemade hand-puppets for each character...that's normal, right?

Day One: Learned to shoot.

My father took me down to the shooting range today. He asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. I rolled my eyes at him, and then said that I was going to be a detective. He then said that if I was really going to go into the field, then I should know how to protect myself.

So he took me to a shooting range and taught me how to fire a gun.

Just based on the first day out, I’m going to be pretty damn good at it.

Other than that, pretty slow day.

Day Two: Dad taught me how to flirt.

Apparently, Dad also thinks it’s his place to teach me how to handle women.

Granted, I know he’s pretty good with them. At least, from my observations at various events and conventions and stuff, I think he’s pretty good at dealing with the fairer sex. They certainly seem to like him, that’s for sure. They really like him.


Well, he doesn’t exactly dissuade them, either.

Okay, definitely should not be thinking like this about my father. Might cause self-trauma.

Or give myself some internal hemorrhaging, whichever comes first.

Come on, Dad—you’re supposed to be some kind of brilliant detective, but you can’t figure out why Mom’s always so mad at you? Especially when you come home smashed with bright red lipstick smears all over your shirt-collar. Pretty good indication of what you’ve been up to, I’d say.

And Mom always says (or rather, whines) that I’m my father’s son…

This does not bode well for me. Actually, doesn’t look too good for Dad either, not once Mom figures out what he’s been teaching me. I might have to hide in my room for a while until the fireworks go away. Note to self: make sure I have sufficient food to survive in my room for, oh…a couple of months.

It might take that long.

Day Three: Learned how to run away from my mother when she’s in Glomp Mode.


God, woman, leave me alone! I know you gave birth me to me. I am well aware that you gave me life, and therefore, according to some bizarre universal logic, you have the power to take that life away. But for the love of Doyle, would you quit trying to glomp me? I’m a teenager, Mom. I’m not a baby anymore.

That’s pretty much why I’m hiding in the front closet and writing here. Figure that’ll give me at least a little time before she gets her meat-hooks into me. Then I’ll have to run for the sake of continuing my existence. How did I come from these two people? Really? Is this some giant biological joke or a conspiracy or something?

On the bright side, Ran’s coming to visit. She’ll get here in a few days, and she’s staying with us for quite a while. I’m excited, although I’m getting tired of Mom and Dad smirking every single time I make a comment about her getting here soon.

Crap, Mom just found me. I have to sprint now.

Day Four: Learned how to fly a plane.

Dad continued teaching me “valuable skills” by dragging me down to the landing strip and showing me how to fly a small aircraft. Didn’t actually let me take the thing up in the air, but he showed me the basics of how the things work. It was actually kind of fun. Wonder if I’ll ever actually use that skill, or if it’s just one of those things I’ll know how to do.

Kind of like all the fun stuff I know how to do with computers…Mom, stop reading now.

Day Five: Learned how to talk my girlfriend through landing a plane, just in case.

What the hell does Dad think I’m going to be doing? What does he think Ran’s going to be doing?

I sometimes wonder if my father is a few noodles short of lo mein, if you know what I mean.


Day Six: Got tropical flu. Learned how to, um, aim.

I have officially been confined to one of two places: my bed, or the couch. Well, except for the whole time I spent with my head buried in the toilet. Not the finest hour of my life, but it was better than the alternative. Knowing my mom, she probably would have made me clean it up.

Uh-oh, stomach’s doing funny things again. Gotta go offer another sacrifice to the porcelain gods.

Day Seven: Learned how to get mother to be at my beck and call while sick.

Being unable to move is really not cool. It means that I have to rely on other people to do things for me—most specifically, my mother. And as much as I love my mom, that’s not a good thing.

Well, it took me a while, but I finally got her to agree to…well, wait on me.

The price? She gets to call me Shin-chan in public.

My inability to do things for myself has left me with no choice but to throw away my dignity and swallow my pride. And for the love of all that is holy, may my pride stay down. Uh-oh…gotta run again.

Day Eight: Got bored during illness.

I got really bored today, so I figured I would try my hand at solving world hunger.

I did. It was surprisingly easy.

But Mom’s been making me mad lately because she’s taking every opportunity possible to call me Shin-chan. So I’m not going to write it down here, because she likes to snoop through my stuff.

Ha, ha, and again I say, ha. In your face, Mom.

Day Nine: Solved case from the couch.

The local police chief brought in a case file for Dad, but Dad wasn’t here, so Mom gave it to me. I looked through it—wasn’t really that hard of a case. I don’t know why the police couldn’t figure it out by themselves. But I figured it out. Still can’t get up, so I told Mom.

She took the credit.

Note to self: plot vengeance for when I’m stronger.

Day Ten: Boredom continues. Sought entertainment.

Dad left his newest manuscript within arm’s reach. I was really bored, so I hid it.

I then sat back and watched the fireworks as he realized he didn’t immediately know where it was. His editors didn’t believe him, either—they thought it was another one of his little jokes, and they weren’t leaving without it. I think he figured out pretty fast that I’d taken it somehow.

He’s giving me that Look now. Yes, Look is capitalized—it’s a very specific look. The one that says if I don’t ‘fess up as of five seconds ago, he’s going to give Mom a few Pixie Stix and lock me in a room with her. He’s a very vindictive person sometimes, ya know that?

…I think I’m about to die. Going to hand over manuscript, and laugh while I do so.

Day Nine: Sickness continues. Felt Dad’s wrath.

Dad unplugged the TV as payback for me hiding his manuscript. I wonder if he did something to my meds, too, or put something in my drink, because I’m really having trouble moving around. Like, I can’t even make it to the TV to plug it back in.

Boredom is setting in. I think I’ll count the cracks in the ceiling again. Or maybe I should holler for Mom again—if I’m stuck with her calling me Shin-chan, might as well get the most out of it for my money. I haven’t decided if it’s worth the glomping yet or not. Or maybe I could put on the puppy dog eyes and get her to yell at Dad for me. That would provide some quality entertainment.

EDIT: I was right—it was entertaining. And I only had to get hugged twice for it.

Day Ten: Still sick, but had a couple of things to think about.

I stared at the calendar for two hours today, wondering why in the world it went from Day Nine to Day Ten and then back to Day Nine and Day Ten again. I couldn’t figure it out, and gave up. I guess there are some mysteries even I wasn’t meant to solve. Besides, it killed some time.

Yes, I’m that bored.

My friendship with the couch continues to develop, as we’re spending a lot of quality time together. I really wish I could move, but Mom still isn’t letting me up. Honestly, I’m not sure I could move too well anyway. Plus, I don’t know what was in that medicine she gave me last night before I went to sleep, but I swear to God that when I opened my eyes there was a Powerpuff Girl leaning over me.

I screamed. Dad laughed. A lot.

Another thing that doesn’t make any sense: when Mom took my temperature, the thermometer read one hundred and four degrees. That’s higher than yesterday. Are they just screwing with me?

Wouldn’t surprise me.

Day Thirteen: Snuck away from couch to conduct investigative study.

When Dad wasn’t looking, I got away from the couch. I went out onto the back balcony. You can see the ocean from there. It’s really nice—especially because the ocean means the beach, and the beach means girls in bikinis.

Revelation: I sincerely wish to pay homage to whoever invented the bikini. It is truly the greatest invention known to mankind. They deserve to be knighted, crowned, or whatever.

Which brings me to my next random thought: Ran should really wear one more often—she looks good in them. She got here today for her visit, but I’m still not feeling too hot. So Mom took her out to go shopping and see all the sights of Hawaii. They’ll be back soon, I’m sure.

Actually, I can see some hula dancers now. I’m wondering what would happen if I asked Ran to wear a hula outfit. My hormones are wondering what would happen if I asked Ran to wear a hula outfit without the top part. I’m becoming increasingly convinced that my hormones are trying to get me killed.

The worst part is that I’m actually trying to estimate how hard she would hit me…

Day Fourteen: Engaged in heavy self debate.

I am continuing in my debate over whether or not it’s worth my while or my continued health to ask Ran to wear such a costume. In my efforts to solve this dilemma, I have constructed a short list of the pros and cons of such an act. They are as follows:

CONS: Instantaneous death.

PROS: May get to see Ran in a bikini as I die.

I’m sure it will surprise no one reading this (yes, Mom, I mean you, now get out of my stuff!) that I am still very undecided on the matter. Perhaps if I stretch out first and then start running right after I ask, I’ll be able to get away in case she does swing at me.

I shouldn’t even be considering asking her this. I really shouldn’t.

Day Thirty: Awoke from head injury-induced coma.

I woke up in the hospital today to find out that I’ve been out for a while.

Revelation: I should not have asked.

Ran apologized for nearly killing me, though she did point out that I sort of deserved it. I didn’t argue too much. She said she meant to break my nose, not my head. So we’re even, I guess. She extended her visit so we could actually hang out together. Well, we’ll hang out after I get out of the hospital, I mean. I’m gonna be here for a couple more days.

Random thought: Ran seems to feel really bad about putting me in a coma for two weeks. I wonder if she would be willing to be my nurse. She usually responds well to the good ol’ sad puppy dog eyes. And before I forget, pay the kid who took that awesome picture of her in a bikini!

EDIT: Ran agreed to be my nurse. She definitely feels bad. But there is no way in hell I’m going to ask her to wear the nurse’s outfit. That’s suicide—my head will probably get broken again, and I really don’t want to go back into a coma.

EDIT 2: I don’t know how Mom did it—I really don’t. But she got Ran to agree to wear the nurse’s uniform, just for the couple of days that I’m going to be stuck in the hospital. The price? Mom has full, unrestricted glomping privileges…for a week.

Have I just impaled myself on a double-edged sword?

Day Thirty-one: Marked the best day of my life thus far.

I have been glomped twenty-one times since I woke up. Good grief, Mom.

But Ran’s here, so I’m in a very good mood, regardless. Bad news? Parents are here, too.

No privacy, I tell ya.

Doesn’t help matters any that Ran leaned in to take my temperature. While wearing the nice little nurse’s outfit, which gave me a really nice view. The number on the digital thermometer immediately jumped from ninety-eight-point-five to one hundred and one. Dad laughed. Ran, fortunately, was oblivious.

So I’m officially trying to plot vengeance upon my father. He deserves it!

…unfortunately, I just heard someone say that I need a bath.

This becomes interesting because I’m not supposed to get out of bed.

Day Thirty-two: Am smiling. Extensively.

I can die happy now.

Whatever happens now, I can totally die happy.

Bathing is fun.

Have I mentioned that Ran is really, really pretty?

Day Thirty-three: Released from hospital.

Well, I’m finally back at home. They let me out of the hospital today with orders to take it easy. I protested that I needed another bath. And everyone ignored me. Stupid people.

And Ran laughed at me when I casually suggested that she keep the nurse’s outfit. Oh well. Hawaii is a very warm place, so she’s in a denim skirt and a camisole. Nice look, either way.

Day Thirty-four: Dad’s lessons continued.

Today, Dad taught me how to pilot a small, one-man lunar landing module. “Just in case,” he keeps saying. What the hell does he think I’m going to be doing in the future? Honestly!

Well, once I got out of that particular lesson, we all went to the beach. Somebody died—or I should say, somebody was murdered. I think I’m cursed in that respect. But anyway, it was kind of messy. Ran took one look at the dead guy, screamed, and latched onto me. And. Would. Not. Let. Go.

All of a sudden, it was really hard to focus on that case. Dad wouldn’t stop laughing at me. I really need to check the weather for information about currents so I can carry through with my plans for taking vengeance on my father for continually laughing at me!

EDIT: Okay, the weatherman just said that the currents are doing something funny, and are not going the right way for my plans. Question to self: should I include weatherman in plans of revenge, or would that be killing the messenger?

Ran keeps asking me why I’m so interested in the weather. I can’t include her in my plans. She’s too nice for that, and she’s not crazy. If I do get caught, though, I wonder if she would come to visit me?

EDIT 2: I let my mind wander while I was contemplating whether or not Ran would visit me in prison, and my eyes wound up stuck somewhere they should not have been. Ran is now really angry, and I had to run for my life. Or experience a world of pain.

I need to find a new hiding spot…

Day Thirty-five: In pain, in hiding.

I am currently covered in large purple bruises, and I don’t think Ran’s done yet. Furthermore, my mother insists that as the week is not over, she can still glomp me whenever she wants. So I’ve gone into hiding. I’m sitting under the dock right now. It’s a good hiding place. The sound of the waves is very relaxing, and I’m having a good time making friends with some crabs who seem to live here.

Aww, crap. Dad just found me. He’s laughing again.

The current looks pretty good right now, and there’s no one around…

EDIT: Well, I pushed Dad into the ocean. Adding to the funny was the fact that he was still wearing his suit and tie from his meeting with his editors. He made a lot of cool noises while he sputtered around and splashed and tried to stand up in the shallow water.

Don’t get me wrong. If I thought there was an actual chance he would drown or something, I would have been jumping in after him without a second thought. But the water was about a foot deep there. So I had fun just standing on the shore and laughing at him. Loudly.

Then Ran and Mom caught up to us. Ran gave me a lecture. Mom just laughed at Dad.

But now Dad’s watching me with this weird look in his eye. I think he’s planning something.

And that’s why I’m hiding in the front closet again. I swear, they found me under a leaf in a cabbage patch or something. There’s no way I could possibly share actual genetic material with those two. Not possible. They’re crazy, I’m not.

And I really hope Dad doesn’t find me for a while…

Day Thirty-six: Paranoia sets in.

I keep peeking around corners—I’m so freaked out right now. Dad might be waiting anywhere to pounce on me with vengeance. He’s tricky like that, he could be anywhere. The walls have ears. All work and no play makes Shinichi a dull boy…

Right. Sorry.

I asked Ran to be my bodyguard and protect me. She laughed at me. Why is everyone always laughing at me? But she also called me a detective geek, which I suppose is a bit different.

Mom caught me and glomped me again. The week isn’t over yet. Why do I find myself again worrying about the currents? I must stop having these thoughts. Oh well, gives me something to think about while I’m struggling to get away.

Day Thirty-seven: More internal debate rages.

I’m really starting to think about running away from home and joining the circus. Seriously, there have got to be some good pros and cons of being an orphan. These people are driving me nuts.

Yeah, the more I think about it, the more the pros outweigh the cons.

I wonder if Ran would…nah.

Day Thirty-eight: Returning to normal.

Okay, so we were kind of getting back to normal. Even the paranoia was going away!

Then I looked around that corner with a mirror.

Oh. My. GOD.

I’m going to hide now.

Day Thirty-nine: Hiding.

I am officially scarred for life.

I will not come out of hiding. EVER.

I’m staying under here for a while. Like, until they all DIE!

Day Forty: Came out of hiding once more.

Ran finally talked me into coming out of hiding today. I was perfectly content to stay under my bed for the rest of my life, but she gave me the big Bambi eyes, and I caved way faster than I probably should have. Besides, that cookie looked way too good to resist. Revelation: cookies make things all better.

I’ve decided that today is a good day to stay close to Ran. Like, I pretty much latched onto her arms and waist. All day. She turned really, really red—wonder if there’s a connection there? Meh, women are one mystery I don’t think even Dad’s been able to solve, if his track record with Mom is any indication.

Mom and Dad continue snickering at me. They really need to stop. Dad, I know you’re plotting.

So I just kept clinging to Ran for dear life. She’s a black belt. And she’s pretty! Note to self: someday, work up the nerve to kiss her. Then prepare for death. It’s like the bikini thing, though. At least I’ll be able to die happy!

But the parents keep shooting Ran these weird looks. Are they planning something? Is Ran in on it? Or is something going on that I just don’t get? Great, now they’ve got me all paranoid.

Day Forty-one: A work-out, and then some.

Mom dragged Ran and I to jazzercise today. I really didn’t want to go, but she can be quite persuasive when she’s threatening to pull out embarrassing old baby pictures and show them to my best friend. Yeah. Real convincing.

On the bright side, Ran wore a sports bra for the workout. I couldn’t focus. I ran into the wall.

Dad laughed.

…what was he even doing there, anyway?

In other news, I’m looking into legal emancipation. I will get away from psycho-parentals if it’s the last thing I ever do! I’m getting in touch with lawyers, too. Random thought: I wonder if Ran’s mom would be willing to take my case?

EDIT: Okay, I’ve been staring at the phone for a while now. I’m too scared to actually call Eri-san and ask her if she’d be willing to represent me. She’s good, really. I know if she was on the case, I’d be free in no time flat. But the problem is that she’s scarier than her daughter.

EDIT 2: I asked Ran if she thought her mom would take my case. She gave me a loud, long lecture on how I should be so happy that I’m lucky enough that my parents are still together. So I hereby retract my previous statement—Ran is scarier than her mother.

But no matter, I had another thought…

Day Forty-two: Escape plans!

I told my parents today that I wanted to go back to Japan with Ran and stay there. They were suitably surprised, but I’m not backing down. I’m losing my mind here. Besides, if I go back to Japan, I get to be near Ran, and possibly kiss her someday without getting my elbows broken. I would like that, but I cannot tell her. She’s very protective of herself.

Hopefully, Mom will stop crying soon so we can further discuss this, like civilized people. She’s not taking it well, though. Honestly, “her baby” is not “trying to leave her forever.” He’s just trying to put a little distance between himself and her glomping. That’s all there is to it.

Tags: character: ran, character: shinichi/conan, character: yukiko, character: yuusaku, fandom: detective conan/magic kaito, misc: one-shot

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