voidtreckerexpress | And all my walls began to shake

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And all my walls began to shake

Who: Ran (both closed and open prompts)
Where: Various
When: In the few days after departing the Winter Faire after this log and after new arrivals
What: Ran deals with the aftermath of learning about Shinichi
Warnings: N/A?

A. Closed to Ai - The night after the fair, after carrying him back to the train, Ran had holed up in one of the quiet rooms with him, talking. Exhaustion -- mental, emotional, and physical -- had seeped in, and she'd slowly drifted off as they spoke. At some point he'd woken her up, encouraged her to go to bed, and she'd stumbled half-asleep down the darkened hallways to her cabin, crawling into her bed for full rest.

In the morning she awakens still wearing the same clothes she had the day before, her hair mussed, dark marks beneath her eyes. Climbing down the ladder to her bunk, she catches sight of Ai still sleeping. She pauses a moment, a small furrow between her brows -- then grabs her gi and goes to change. She'll return in a few minutes to put last night's clothes on the bed.

B. Open - Ran will slowly seek out a few people who Shinichi has indicated know about him over the next few days, so feel free to reply as though she's found them if your character is one of these. Alternatively, they (or anyone else) can find her in the gym, spa, or kitchen:

Gym - Ran is most often here, attacking the practice dummies and bags with unusual focus and fervor -- sometimes to the point where she looks as though she could have well killed one if it had been alive. Indeed, she has snapped one of the bags from its chain again, and one of the dummies is looking more than a little worse for wear.

Spa - Find Ran in the sauna, wrapped up in a towel and trying to listen to birdsongs. She may get awkward and leave, though, if someone male enters.

Kitchen - Ran stress cooks. Though it's not her team's turn to prepare food, she can likely be found in the kitchen either puzzling over one of the new recipes or trying to make something good out of what basic ingredients are available. Again, much focus, and possibly more mess than she normally makes.

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"I'd do whatever it takes to keep the people around me safe, even if it meant willfully staying in the dark. Or keeping them in the dark." Haibara sighs, though. "I guess it's too late for you, though. You already know too much. And the one you care about most is already neck-deep in this mess, of course you're not going to turn away."

This is not a conversation Haibara had been expecting. But, perhaps, it had been one that's been coming for a long time. Ever since she had convinced Kudo to keep quiet to Ran in that hospital room so many months ago.

"How much did Kudo-kun tell you? About the Organization."

"There's more than one person that I've cared about in this," Ran murmurs. "And . . . I don't think I can believe that, that you would willfully stay in the dark. That time, thinking back on it . . . I can't help that think you were willing to be shot. You had no reason to follow in that car. You came and you were willing to let Sharon-san shoot you."

Again her eyes return. "So I have to think that there's more to Miyano-san than what she likes other people to see. Maybe more than she likes to think of herself."

She's hoping for it. Banking on it. Because if all her theories of this situation are correct, this is the person who has been involved with this Organization. Perhaps been involved in making the drug itself.

. . . And admittedly she'd like to believe that there's something better to this person than all that image represents. She's hoping there is something that's more Ai . . . that some of that person she came to know is real, can still be trusted.

She's not sure of Shiho being involved in making the drug, admittedly. But it would make sense. Someone involved in making the toxin would be best-suited to develop an antidote.

"Shinichi answered everything I asked. There might be holes . . . but I know what it is and what it's capable of doing. Some of the things they've been doing during the time that he's been Conan-kun. About some of the members."

Edited 2021-01-13 23:18 (UTC)

Haibara doesn't really... have a response to what Ran's saying. Not without opening up a lot more than she's willing to do with anybody.

But besides that, she realizes that there's one way to let Ran know just what she's getting into. One last chance to get through to her.

"Just before we arrived here. The Belltree Express. The smoke, the bomb. That was all a plot by the Organization to kill one person. You've seen the lengths they're willing to go to."

Admittedly, she'd been hoping for some kind of confirmation. Verification. Affirmation. Conan wasn't real, never had been. The little boy she knew, who she'd developed a brother/sister bond with, the bright sweetness of his personality, never existed. That had been Shinichi, playing a role -- maybe with feeling for her behind it, but it had been a role all the same.

So that leaves the question . . . who is Miyano Shiho? How much of the girl she's developed a relationship with is real? How much is false? All Ran has now is the near-certainty that Shiho has been involved with the making of the toxin, which means she's been part of this Organization that she keeps being told is pervasive, violent, cruel. That doesn't speak well in her favor.

But.

There has to be more to this story. Shinichi is clearly afraid of the Organization, but he continues to be around Ai. There's been no direct confirmation of her helping him, but no denial of it, either. And what's more, Ai continues to stay. Has forged relationships. Is, as she dares to think . . . loved.

Surely that much can't be false? Ran continues to hold onto the idea that there's something here. Something she can hold onto.

. . . Because the alternate possible truth is that she's been absolutely and terrifyingly blind.

Quietly, she draws a breath. She wants to know these things, but for the moment they have to wait. Shiho seems to want something out of her in turn -- some determination or guarantee.

"Yes." Again she presses her lips together. "It scares me. A lot. It terrifies me. Is that what you want to know? But. Can you -- do you -- really expect me to make another choice? . . . Do you really think I could?"

"I think that you should. But you're a lot like Kudo-kun. Stubborn." She could go as far as to say careless, but she'll hold that one off. "So I don't expect you to listen."

She sighs. "What did you want to know from me?"

"Should" and "could" are two very different things, and for Ran, at least, the latter is the true one. There's no other choice in her mind that she could possibly make. If she could choose the former, the "should," she'd be inclined to -- to take Shinichi and leave this to higher powers than either of them.

But he'd never allow for it. And so she can't either.

She's listening. And she's scared. But she can't make another choice.

Can't and still live with herself.

It doesn't seem worthwhile, though, to try to assert this any further, and so she doesn't, letting it slip away.

"There's a lot," she murmurs. "But I think I have to start with who you are. I know your name. But I'm not sure I know anything else."

Honestly, Haibara thinks it would be best if Ran did take Kudo and run away. But Kudo would never agree to it, and more than that, it was a non-possibility when aboard this train. A contained space they couldn't leave where the Organization could pop up at any time.

That's also why Haibara has to make some hard decisions. There's a point where withholding information and leaving somebody with half an idea of the truth would be more harmful. And not to mention the strain on their relationship - something that could lead to complications later down the line.

...It might also be that Haibara didn't want to ruin her relationship with Ran. She'd be willing to, if it kept her safe, but she couldn't deny at least on some level that it was a factor.

"It's best if you don't bring up the name Shiho. I'm more used to Haibara or Ai at this point." A deep sigh. Time for a revelation, although at this point, probably one that Ran expected. "And even before, I didn't often go by that name. Mostly I went by my codename within the Organization. Sherry."

That confirms that she was with the Organization. Which isn't entirely reassuring, but if she was still working for them, it's highly unlikely that she would be so open about it. Or that Shinichi would give her any kind of protection. "What . . . did you do for them?"

Mentally she's hoping it's not on the level of other members Shinichi has mentioned.

And: "You're not there now . . . what happened?"

The fact she's not there now would be obvious, Haibara thinks.

But in some small way, there might have been a little self-sabotage involved in the way she worded it. Still, Ran saw through it, so it didn't matter.

"I was a biochemist, in charge of developing the APTX-4869. In other words, the drug that turned both Kudo and I into children."

She pauses here. It's not that she needs to give Ran time to respond, there isn't really... anything to respond to there. But just that she needs to collect herself to answer the second part of Ran's question.

"My sister also worked for the Organization. But they killed her. I refused to work with them any more, they were going to kill me in response, and so I took a chance with the APTX-4869 and escaped." A slight pause before she continues. "Turning into a child is a very rare result, and the drug usually results in death. They're not aware of the possibility, but I had figured out the truth behind Kudo's case. That's the only reason he and I are still alive."

Really, Ran should have realized what she was potentially opening.

But she hadn't.

She'd hypothesized that Shiho had been involved in developing the toxin, yes. But not having been the creator of it.

The rest is important and needs to be addressed, but for the moment her mind can only cling to that fact.

"How . . . how could you make that?" Please tell her there's a reason. Please tell her that Shiho hadn't wanted to, was forced, coerced. "Why?"

Or that she has remorse.

Ran's chest is suddenly, impossibly tight.

Haibara sighs. She knew this kind of reaction was coming. "There's a lot of 'why's involved. I was involved with the project because the Organization raised me to take over my parents' work." She crosses her arms, tapping one finger against an elbow as she gathers her thoughts. "I did want to complete it. Not for the organization, but because it was their lives' work."

"And if you want to know why I developed a poison, the answer is that it's not meant to be one. The Organization decided to use my work a tool for their killings because in its current form, it doesn't leave behind forensic evidence. Not that I was in any position to object."

"Not that it absolves me of anything. I've worked with the list of its victims. I know exactly how much blood is on my hands."

So not a poison . . . but something that was found convenient to be a poison over the time it was being developed.

It's relieving, at least, in the intent. But it's still taken lives.

"What . . . was it supposed to be?"

"An end to mankind's long search for immortality." A simple answer, if a little vague. A very Haibara answer.

She could get into a more technical description, but she doubts that would sate any curiosities here. So she waits for Ran's next question.

Or her judgment. Haibara knows she deserves it.

Something to achieve immortality . . . That's something from fairy tales that Ran read as a child. Something from history books -- emperors who squandered resources, lives, and their own morality on their insatiable quests for immortality. Those stories had always been illustrations of the fallibility of humanity, warnings against those who would dare reach for something that was forever out of their grasp.

And yet here it was, something else that should only belong to stories cropping up in modern life. Again there's that disconnected sensation for Ran -- a paradigm that doesn't quite fit inside of her own, splitting like a double image.

"Is that even possible . . . ?" The words are soft, both rhetorical and not.

She shakes her head quickly as though to clear it, tries to ask what presses next.

"Why didn't you stop when you realized what they were doing with it?" It sounds like she has regrets, the way she talks about her hands having the blood of the victims. Obviously she got out later, but . . . after cost.

Significant cost.

Haibara clutches an arm a little tighter, arms still crossed. "I didn't approve of their use of it, but even I was ultimately expendable..."

She trails off for a moment, eyes losing focus for a moment as she thinks about Gin. Handcuffing her and leaving her until they decided what to do with her, or the time he shot her on the rooftop after reverting to her usual age, or all of the time spent together at the Organization - most of it traumatic in its own way.

"...The point is, I had no room to negotiate while they had both me and my sister under their thumb."

Ran could wonder if all of this is true. It's fantastic, certainly, and otherworldly in comparison to everything she knows.

But . . . Shiho doesn't have any reason to lie to her, either. It's not as though she's attempting to paint herself in the best light. And that little tightening of one hand tells Ran that the conversation is costing her to some degree. She's answering despite it.

"What was it like in the Organization?" she asks quietly after a moment. It's not a question aimed at causing further discomfort -- though she suspects it unfortunately will. It will help her better understand what kind of person is in front of her . . . and possibly help her to better understand the Organization itself.

"Terrible. I was a part of its Internal Division, so I didn't have to deal with outside threats much, but that just meant I had to deal with all of the criminals inside the Organization instead."

She considers her words a bit. Thinks about the people she worked with - not Gin or Vodka or Vermouth, but the other scientists, often working under her. "Not all of them were horrible people, but the criminals who made it high enough to earn a codename were both willing to murder and hungry for power. I had one myself, so the lower ranks didn't bother me much, but... You have to live with the fact that there are people around you who would kill you if given the order to, or a reason to. And the higher-ups would kill you if they thought you were a risk, or useless."

....Like Akemi.

Does that mean that in order to earn a codename, Shiho was willing to murder as well?

It can't be. Shinichi trusts her, doesn't he? She's taken care of the children -- Ran knows she has. She fusses over Agasa-hakase, too; Ran's seen that. And that time at the docks . . .

But it's hard to reason about that when every thought feels electric, charged. When each new bit of information is a disruption, uncertainty that's hard to process.

When she's trying so hard not to be afraid.

Ran closes her eyes, tries to block it out, ask the question she really wants: "How much of the person I knew is real?"

The question is a request for some measure of certainty -- some steadiness in all that she's been given.

Haibara expected more concrete questions, questions about the secrets she had been keeping, that Kudo-kun had been keeping. But this reminds her that there is a cost to keeping secrets in the form of trust lost as well.

"Except for the bit about me being seven, it's real. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm terrible at acting."

This admittedly feels a bit better than the concrete questions that Ran had been asking -- not because she doesn't want those answers, but because they hit something more, something deeper. It feels like she's hitting more of what she needs. Maybe she's needing to lay the base of some measure of trust again before she can deal with the rest.

And with it . . . maybe some sense of familiarity, solidity in all that's foreign.

"I'm doubting everything right now," she says softly. "Even my own perceptions."

"These are rather sizable revelations. It would have been easier to go back to ignoring them, but the truth is like Pandora's Box. Once it's out, it can't be put away again."

A small nod.

And a breath.

"If you could take it all back . . . would you?"

Again, it's a question that tries to create solidity, certainty . . . in spite of the fact that she'd like to hope she knows the answer. She needs -- wants -- to hear it.

"If I could save my sister, I'd take back or redo whatever I needed to." Said... just a little bit more harshly than normal. But it's Haibara, it's not too far off from her usual tone. "Unfortunately, life doesn't work like that. We're not given second chances."

She pauses. Then, a little more gently, "I try not to dwell on those thoughts."

It's not what she was hoping for, and Ran's brow furrows in a wince. The anxiety that she's facing likes the security of certainties, and the idea that Shiho would go back to the Organization, do it all again, runs counter to what she would hope for -- someone who renounces the Organization, doesn't believe in anything it stands for, wants to put it as far from herself as possible.

But.

That's not quite what's being said here, is it? She tries to cling to that, tries to hear it, eyes slipping closed, silent for a few moments.

"I told you that I'm doubting all of my perceptions," she says softly. "Unlike Shinichi, I didn't know you before. You say that the person I knew is real, that you're not good at acting . . . but can you understand that given how much I've just learned has been kept from me, given being told how much I should be afraid of everything I'm learning, it's hard to just fall back into the same kind of conviction? I want to believe. But when you say something like that, about being okay with redoing it . . . it scares me."

A breath. "Maybe I didn't ask the question the right way -- or the question that I really want. Would you want to go back now?"

"I think . . . I'm trying to get a sense of who Miyano Shiho really is. Because even if she can't act, I only ever got pieces. I think . . . I need to understand in order to go back to the conviction that I had."

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deage - 2021-02-07 05:26 (UTC) - Expand

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singlefaith - 2021-02-14 21:32 (UTC) - Expand

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And all my walls began to shake

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