A/N: I've had a lot of Ran/Shinichi nonsense building up in me it seems, but I couldn't think of any way to release it. This is enough for now. Just an odd story with no true point. It has a very detached feel to it that creeps me out.


There had been a time when Shinichi Kudo was never uncertain. He always knew what his place in the world was, exactly what was going on around him, and what he should do when he should do it.

That time's death coincided with the birth of Conan Edogawa.

But that was behind him now: Conan was behind him now. Or so he liked to tell himself. Really he was stuck with the kid for the rest of his life, if only inside of him. And so the uncertainties remained. This was a time of intense uncertainty.

An unsteady hand hesitated before the front door of Ran Mouri and her father. Shinichi held it in place as best as he could, a position which he could easily shift into actual knocking should he finally decide to do so, or in direct opposition, return to his side.

There had been a time when Shinichi Kudo was very selfish. He hadn't necessarily meant to be thus, it was just who he was. Especially not to Ran, who thought he was very selfish. Becoming Conan had also taught him a lesson in putting others before himself.

Conan. Again. That brat really had gone and made him a better person, hadn't he? It did not seem strange to him to refer to his alter ego in the third person. Now that there was no chance of him ever returning it seemed to make more sense that way.

He knew that if he knocked on the door he would be committing the most selfish act of his lifetime.

Conan was gone, in his place was Shinichi Kudo. And Shinichi Kudo was a wanted man. It wasn't only unsafe, but downright stupid to stay in a place where he could be hunted down so easily by those intent on bringing about his demise. He would have to move away; as far away as possible. Across the world, even. He'd get a new name, a new life. And he would do everything in his power to keep hidden from them. Because as far as he was concerned, they were no longer his responsibility.

Come on Shinichi, he thought and frowned at his hand, just walk away. It's time to let go—to let her go. Get out of here before they figure anything out. Get out of here while you still can. Get out of here alone.

Shinichi Kudo was now selfless enough to realize that if he knocked on that door and asked Ran Mouri to simply drop everything and go with him, she would. He'd already lost everything, but Ran still had a life. A future that wasn't full of so many uncertainties like the only one he could provide for her. The moment he knocked on that door and revealed himself she would be, in a way, doomed.

Go now, forget her, he told himself.

His fist hit the door in three sharp wraps.

He knew he was being selfish. He knew that somewhere in his mind Conan was jumping up and down and screaming to get his attention, to tell him that this was wrong. But when Ran reappeared in the doorway a few minutes later, the smallest of suitcases clutched in her hands and a tearful grin splitting her face from ear to ear, he could almost convince himself that he'd done it for her after all.