(Horsemen) Apocrypha 01 - Last Rights
Jun. 28th, 2010 11:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Fandom: Detective Conan/Magic Kaito
Fic Pairing: Mostly Genfic. Light Kaito/Aoko, Shinichi/Ran, Saguru/Aoko, and Heiji/Kazuha.
Final/Series Pairings: Saguru/Aoko, Heiji/Kazuha, Kaito/Shinichi (more may appear)
Rating: T
Chapter Warnings: Character Death, Blood/gore
Warnings: Character Death, Violence, Crime
Genre: Friendship/Crime/Drama
Words: 2540
Chapter Summary: There were a good many lives lost that day, and Nakamori Ginzo was just one of them.
A/N: For added atmosphere, try listening to “September” by Daughtry. It was what I listened to as I wrote this.
Dying, Ginzo thought, was nothing like you expected it to be. He'd always been expecting his life to flash before his eyes or something cliché like that, but none of that was happening, or had happened. He'd been unconscious for awhile, which was far preferable to what he had woken up to. Searing pain arched through his body every time he so much as twitched, and it made breathing a little less than ideal so he tried to keep his every breath shallow. He'd never expected that he would die this way either, laying on his back, pinned there like a bug in some whacko's collection by a steel beam through his stomach. The memory of steel melding into his perforated abdomen was a sensation he doubted would ever leave him. Not that he had all that long to dwell on it.
He wondered what would kill him first: Blood loss or sepsis.
Distantly, as if his hearing were fogging over, he could hear the sound of rough cloth scraping against rougher stone; a sound that reminded him of the fact that some of his men were trapped down here with him. Ginzo didn't know the status of them and didn't want to ask, just hoped that they would make it out alright, because he knew he wouldn't. While his life wasn't flashing before his eyes, he could certainly feel it slipping away from him.
“Hold on, sir,” he heard someone rasp nearby, the male voice was choked and thick. “Anyone got a flashlight?”
Ginzo was pretty sure his name was Takeuchi. With a force of will, he dredged up some of his waning strength and growled, “We don't need any light, just leave it and try not to move too much. I want a report on injuries. NOW!” The effort to talk, and more, the effort to dredge up one of his usual snarls left him weak, dizzy, gasping softly and, he noted with a sick feeling, wetly. His mouth tasted like copper and iron, which probably wasn't a good thing.
“I'm on it, sir!”
He didn't know if his men knew what his condition was, but he hoped they didn't. Right now he needed them to keep their heads together, and maybe that didn't sound like he had faith in them but it wasn't anything like that. He had more than enough faith in the entire task force. He'd chosen them each for a reason, but they all worked so god damned closely together that they were almost family. You had to be when you worked in Kid's task force– everyone knew it was Kid's first, Nakamori's second, and never the police's. Funny how no one every argued about that.
“Everyone's still alive, Keibu, but I think Aoki hit his head.”
“Good, good.” Ginzo knew that there had been four others with him when the building came down around them. One of them had had a broken leg: they had found him trapped beneath a large chunk of rubble and needed to dig him out. He was pretty sure Takeuchi had severe burns from one of the explosions as well. “How much space do we have?” How much space did they have. He wasn't going anywhere; might as well have asked 'How big is my grave?'
“Enough. I think something's holding the ceiling up, sir. We should be fine.”
It occurred to him then, that it was probably the steel beam that was holding things steady, and the thing keeping the beam steady was his body. Nakamori Ginzo relaxed slightly, letting the rough contours of the broken floor beneath him take his weight completely, and felt a faint smile slide onto his face. At least his death wouldn't be completely useless, and he wasn't going to die alone. His only regret was that he was going to leave Aoko without a father.
Toichi's damn brat better look after his little girl or he'd find a way to make him regret it.
His life didn't flash before his eyes, no, but now he found himself looking back on it, pulling it up just so he could examine it even as he wondered if he'd told Aoko goodbye this morning before he left for work. He was pretty sure he had, because he'd boasted how tonight was the night he would finally catch Kid. They had promised that they'd have a big meal together, all their favorites, to celebrate because he was going to catch that thief tonight. Aoko had cheered him on, her eyes alight with confidence in him, her father, while he boasted even though they both knew that it was likely to be a futile effort. They did this every heist, and every heist they would have that celebratory dinner anyway, just because it was, somehow, a tradition now. He would tell Aoko all about what Kid had done that night, and Aoko would rant and rave, just as temperamental as he was, until they were both laughing at the silliness of it all.
She had promised that, tonight, she would be in the crowd to wait for him too. That way when he finally got Kid she would be there to see his triumph, she'd said.
His daughter had been there, just like she had promised, but she wasn't there for anything like triumph. She'd been screaming for him from the other side of the police barriers and riot squad. Ginzo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his little girl looking so terrified. The fatherly instincts in him had wanted nothing more than to run to her and make sure she got out of there safe, to make her stop screaming. He hadn't though, because he had a duty to his men as well. Instead he had gone back into the building to get as many of them out as he could. Silently, Ginzo prayed that Aoko was alright. He didn't know if he could live with himself, or die with himself, if Aoko had gotten hurt in this mess.
All the thoughts of Aoko and his mortality made him think of the day she was born, of the first time he laid eyes on his daughter. Small, pink, and winkled, with a tuft of dark hair already fuzzing her head, she had been a noisy little thing: had had his temper right from the start and time hadn't changed that. He could remember when she was a little girl with her cheeks puffed out and her face flushed in aggravation, and, now, as she was becoming a fine young woman with fire in her eyes. The very thought of her made pride flare up in his chest, warm and lingering, even through the pain that was starting to go numb.
His whole body felt heavy, and Ginzo closed his eyes, or at least he thought he did. He wasn't sure if he'd ever had them open. The blackness was just so god damned thick. He was sweating and thought he should probably feel hot, but instead he just felt cold.
“Keibu? Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Ginzo grunted. “Just thinking.”
That's right, he was thinking: Thinking about everything he was leaving behind, and about everything he'd already lost. Like his wife. Aoko's beautiful mother, so many years gone but never forgotten. The day he'd learned she was dead had etched itself forever in his mind and would never leave. The memory of standing there with the phone to his ear, of hearing the doctor say he was sorry, but she was gone, the phone falling from his limp hand and Aoko's small voice asking 'Touchan, what's wrong?' as he sagged to the floor.
It hadn't been easy raising Aoko alone, knowing he could never fill the space his wife had left, but he'd tried to be there for her, to raise her right. She had done nothing but make him proud. Things had been even more difficult back then, with Kid taking so much of his time, even if he'd been like an escape from his grief, like a friend. A strange, annoying friend who did everything he could to tease and taunt the grief right out of him. Just like Toichi had.
And, maybe he just let Kid fool him, because Nakamori Ginzo wasn't so stupid as to have missed the connection. The day his friend had died, so had Kaitou Kid...until eight years later. He hoped Toichi would be able to forgive him for not keeping his son safe, but he'd tried to make sure Kaito was growing up right. Kuroba Nyoko was an amazing woman, and Ginzo well understood the pain and trials of raising a child on your own after the loss of your spouse. That kid had been such a good friend for Aoko, even if he was a bit of a brat and made her so god damned angry. He knew she adored him.
He had done what he could, but it looked like it was time for them to be on their own; time to leave things to the next generation because Ginzo knew he didn't have any time left. Death was pulling at him, relentless and draining. He couldn't feel pain anymore, just a numbness that had taken over his entire body. Actually, he was kind of grateful for that. It hurt like a bitch having something through your guts and if he didn't have to feel it, so much the better.
It took all he had to force his too heavy eyes open again at a stifled sound close by, and Ginzo found the small space was illuminated. He could make out the too close dark gray of the concrete rubble that formed the ceiling.
“K-keibu...”
Turning his head slightly, Ginzo looked at the starkly pale and sweaty faces of the four members of his task force, framed by the stiff black edges of their helmets. “Hey, Takeuchi? Tell Aoko to take care of herself, will you?” he slurred.
“Hang on, Keibu,” the man hissed wretchedly. “They'll get here in time. Just keep fighting.”
Ginzo snorted, an action that sent a ripple of agony from his shredded midsection through to the tips of his hair and the cuticles of his toenails. “Don't be an idiot,” he grunted. “We all know I'm not getting out of this even if they find us now. What are they going to do? Sew me up like Frankenstein and hope my organs aren't just bits of mash?”
Scattered chuckles greeted his vicious words as well as a faintly nauseous moan from Aoki's direction. Ginzo couldn't help but wonder if it was from the gory image he'd just painted, or from the concussion the man probably had. Though his vision was swimming, darkness eating at the edges, Ginzo could still make out the wildly despairing expression on Takeuchi's face as the man shifted closer to him. Dark eyes stared down at him, helpless and frustrated. “Keibu?”
It took effort to even glare, but Ginzo summoned the expression to his face. “You'll tell Aoko?”
Takeuchi's lips peeled back in a snarl, as if he wanted to protest, and Ginzo could see blood staining his teeth, but all he said was, “Someone will.”
Satisfied, Ginzo grunted. “Good. And tell those two brats to keep Kid on his toes.” Damned thief, he better have made it out of this alive or Ginzo was going to make his afterlife absolutely unbearable. How dare he leave his daughter! The blunt nails of his numb fingers scraped against the blood damp concrete he lay on as they twitched with a want to curl into fists. He wasn't really a religious man, but he'd do it, just like he was going to find his wife and then Kid's predecessor and make good on his threats to catch him at last.
“Like they could do anything else,” he heard another voice grumble from nearby, it sounded choked. Ginzo thought it might be Takamura. “Hey, Aoki, don't fall asleep, moron.”
A weary stilted chuckle answered, followed by slow words, “S'rry, Taka-kun.”
“You're such a kid still,” the gruff Takamura grunted, though it was rather fond, like an uncle teasing a favorite nephew, or an older brother annoyed and amused by his younger siblings insistence on aggravating him.
Takamura was right. Hakuba and that Edogawa kid– Creepy, creepy little brat, but a good kid. Reminded him a lot of Kaito when he'd been younger, but with an appreciation for order that Kaito would never possess. Those two would keep Kid from getting sloppy whether Ginzo told them to or not. They'd probably have a heart attack from his message since he'd always been so opposed to them, but it was the thought that counted, right?
The sound of something being dragged against concrete alerted his fading consciousness to movement, and Ginzo blinked away the haziness. “Hey, Keibu...?” With a bit of effort he was able to identify the voice as Ito. The man had a trickle of blood sliding down from under his helmet somewhere, but he looked clear headed enough. “What about...?” His hesitancy was palpable, reflected in the faces of the other three, even concussed Aoki.
Ginzo licked the sweat off his upper lip, where he could feel the rough bristles of his mustache as he did so. They weren't completely unprepared for this, not after what they'd observed. The Kid Task Force wasn't made of blind fools. “Tell that damned thief,” Ginzo croaked, alarmed at how hard it was to breathe. He didn't struggle though, but put the last of his life into his final words. If there was a God, or Gods, waiting to judge him then he would make sure his last words were worthy of being judged by. “Tell him to watch his back. We're right behind him.”
Grim and solemn, those four members of his task force stared back at him. In their faces Ginzo could see the wordless reply: His message was received loud and clear.
Nakamori Ginzo might have been a fool, but he wasn't an idiot, and, as he died, he died knowing that the plans he'd made would be taken care of, that his daughter was in the best hands he could place her in, and that he'd done everything with his life he could hope for to that point. He might not have wanted to die staring at the cracked underside of a wedge of concrete as the sulfur yellow glow of a dim flashlight made the craggy edges dance like ghouls, but the low murmur of his wounded task force joking weakly as if he wasn't slowly fading away just feet from them made it okay. He might not have wanted to leave his little girl, or the boy he'd watched grow up with her, nor his job, but he'd accepted that he was going to have to, and he died with the innate knowledge that things were in the hands of those best capable of taking care of them.
He wasn't happy with his death, but he was... satisfied.
Chapter List, Chapter 03, Apocrypha 02; Valkyrie
Fic Pairing: Mostly Genfic. Light Kaito/Aoko, Shinichi/Ran, Saguru/Aoko, and Heiji/Kazuha.
Final/Series Pairings: Saguru/Aoko, Heiji/Kazuha, Kaito/Shinichi (more may appear)
Rating: T
Chapter Warnings: Character Death, Blood/gore
Warnings: Character Death, Violence, Crime
Genre: Friendship/Crime/Drama
Words: 2540
Chapter Summary: There were a good many lives lost that day, and Nakamori Ginzo was just one of them.
A/N: For added atmosphere, try listening to “September” by Daughtry. It was what I listened to as I wrote this.
Dying, Ginzo thought, was nothing like you expected it to be. He'd always been expecting his life to flash before his eyes or something cliché like that, but none of that was happening, or had happened. He'd been unconscious for awhile, which was far preferable to what he had woken up to. Searing pain arched through his body every time he so much as twitched, and it made breathing a little less than ideal so he tried to keep his every breath shallow. He'd never expected that he would die this way either, laying on his back, pinned there like a bug in some whacko's collection by a steel beam through his stomach. The memory of steel melding into his perforated abdomen was a sensation he doubted would ever leave him. Not that he had all that long to dwell on it.
He wondered what would kill him first: Blood loss or sepsis.
Distantly, as if his hearing were fogging over, he could hear the sound of rough cloth scraping against rougher stone; a sound that reminded him of the fact that some of his men were trapped down here with him. Ginzo didn't know the status of them and didn't want to ask, just hoped that they would make it out alright, because he knew he wouldn't. While his life wasn't flashing before his eyes, he could certainly feel it slipping away from him.
“Hold on, sir,” he heard someone rasp nearby, the male voice was choked and thick. “Anyone got a flashlight?”
Ginzo was pretty sure his name was Takeuchi. With a force of will, he dredged up some of his waning strength and growled, “We don't need any light, just leave it and try not to move too much. I want a report on injuries. NOW!” The effort to talk, and more, the effort to dredge up one of his usual snarls left him weak, dizzy, gasping softly and, he noted with a sick feeling, wetly. His mouth tasted like copper and iron, which probably wasn't a good thing.
“I'm on it, sir!”
He didn't know if his men knew what his condition was, but he hoped they didn't. Right now he needed them to keep their heads together, and maybe that didn't sound like he had faith in them but it wasn't anything like that. He had more than enough faith in the entire task force. He'd chosen them each for a reason, but they all worked so god damned closely together that they were almost family. You had to be when you worked in Kid's task force– everyone knew it was Kid's first, Nakamori's second, and never the police's. Funny how no one every argued about that.
“Everyone's still alive, Keibu, but I think Aoki hit his head.”
“Good, good.” Ginzo knew that there had been four others with him when the building came down around them. One of them had had a broken leg: they had found him trapped beneath a large chunk of rubble and needed to dig him out. He was pretty sure Takeuchi had severe burns from one of the explosions as well. “How much space do we have?” How much space did they have. He wasn't going anywhere; might as well have asked 'How big is my grave?'
“Enough. I think something's holding the ceiling up, sir. We should be fine.”
It occurred to him then, that it was probably the steel beam that was holding things steady, and the thing keeping the beam steady was his body. Nakamori Ginzo relaxed slightly, letting the rough contours of the broken floor beneath him take his weight completely, and felt a faint smile slide onto his face. At least his death wouldn't be completely useless, and he wasn't going to die alone. His only regret was that he was going to leave Aoko without a father.
Toichi's damn brat better look after his little girl or he'd find a way to make him regret it.
His life didn't flash before his eyes, no, but now he found himself looking back on it, pulling it up just so he could examine it even as he wondered if he'd told Aoko goodbye this morning before he left for work. He was pretty sure he had, because he'd boasted how tonight was the night he would finally catch Kid. They had promised that they'd have a big meal together, all their favorites, to celebrate because he was going to catch that thief tonight. Aoko had cheered him on, her eyes alight with confidence in him, her father, while he boasted even though they both knew that it was likely to be a futile effort. They did this every heist, and every heist they would have that celebratory dinner anyway, just because it was, somehow, a tradition now. He would tell Aoko all about what Kid had done that night, and Aoko would rant and rave, just as temperamental as he was, until they were both laughing at the silliness of it all.
She had promised that, tonight, she would be in the crowd to wait for him too. That way when he finally got Kid she would be there to see his triumph, she'd said.
His daughter had been there, just like she had promised, but she wasn't there for anything like triumph. She'd been screaming for him from the other side of the police barriers and riot squad. Ginzo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his little girl looking so terrified. The fatherly instincts in him had wanted nothing more than to run to her and make sure she got out of there safe, to make her stop screaming. He hadn't though, because he had a duty to his men as well. Instead he had gone back into the building to get as many of them out as he could. Silently, Ginzo prayed that Aoko was alright. He didn't know if he could live with himself, or die with himself, if Aoko had gotten hurt in this mess.
All the thoughts of Aoko and his mortality made him think of the day she was born, of the first time he laid eyes on his daughter. Small, pink, and winkled, with a tuft of dark hair already fuzzing her head, she had been a noisy little thing: had had his temper right from the start and time hadn't changed that. He could remember when she was a little girl with her cheeks puffed out and her face flushed in aggravation, and, now, as she was becoming a fine young woman with fire in her eyes. The very thought of her made pride flare up in his chest, warm and lingering, even through the pain that was starting to go numb.
His whole body felt heavy, and Ginzo closed his eyes, or at least he thought he did. He wasn't sure if he'd ever had them open. The blackness was just so god damned thick. He was sweating and thought he should probably feel hot, but instead he just felt cold.
“Keibu? Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Ginzo grunted. “Just thinking.”
That's right, he was thinking: Thinking about everything he was leaving behind, and about everything he'd already lost. Like his wife. Aoko's beautiful mother, so many years gone but never forgotten. The day he'd learned she was dead had etched itself forever in his mind and would never leave. The memory of standing there with the phone to his ear, of hearing the doctor say he was sorry, but she was gone, the phone falling from his limp hand and Aoko's small voice asking 'Touchan, what's wrong?' as he sagged to the floor.
It hadn't been easy raising Aoko alone, knowing he could never fill the space his wife had left, but he'd tried to be there for her, to raise her right. She had done nothing but make him proud. Things had been even more difficult back then, with Kid taking so much of his time, even if he'd been like an escape from his grief, like a friend. A strange, annoying friend who did everything he could to tease and taunt the grief right out of him. Just like Toichi had.
And, maybe he just let Kid fool him, because Nakamori Ginzo wasn't so stupid as to have missed the connection. The day his friend had died, so had Kaitou Kid...until eight years later. He hoped Toichi would be able to forgive him for not keeping his son safe, but he'd tried to make sure Kaito was growing up right. Kuroba Nyoko was an amazing woman, and Ginzo well understood the pain and trials of raising a child on your own after the loss of your spouse. That kid had been such a good friend for Aoko, even if he was a bit of a brat and made her so god damned angry. He knew she adored him.
He had done what he could, but it looked like it was time for them to be on their own; time to leave things to the next generation because Ginzo knew he didn't have any time left. Death was pulling at him, relentless and draining. He couldn't feel pain anymore, just a numbness that had taken over his entire body. Actually, he was kind of grateful for that. It hurt like a bitch having something through your guts and if he didn't have to feel it, so much the better.
It took all he had to force his too heavy eyes open again at a stifled sound close by, and Ginzo found the small space was illuminated. He could make out the too close dark gray of the concrete rubble that formed the ceiling.
“K-keibu...”
Turning his head slightly, Ginzo looked at the starkly pale and sweaty faces of the four members of his task force, framed by the stiff black edges of their helmets. “Hey, Takeuchi? Tell Aoko to take care of herself, will you?” he slurred.
“Hang on, Keibu,” the man hissed wretchedly. “They'll get here in time. Just keep fighting.”
Ginzo snorted, an action that sent a ripple of agony from his shredded midsection through to the tips of his hair and the cuticles of his toenails. “Don't be an idiot,” he grunted. “We all know I'm not getting out of this even if they find us now. What are they going to do? Sew me up like Frankenstein and hope my organs aren't just bits of mash?”
Scattered chuckles greeted his vicious words as well as a faintly nauseous moan from Aoki's direction. Ginzo couldn't help but wonder if it was from the gory image he'd just painted, or from the concussion the man probably had. Though his vision was swimming, darkness eating at the edges, Ginzo could still make out the wildly despairing expression on Takeuchi's face as the man shifted closer to him. Dark eyes stared down at him, helpless and frustrated. “Keibu?”
It took effort to even glare, but Ginzo summoned the expression to his face. “You'll tell Aoko?”
Takeuchi's lips peeled back in a snarl, as if he wanted to protest, and Ginzo could see blood staining his teeth, but all he said was, “Someone will.”
Satisfied, Ginzo grunted. “Good. And tell those two brats to keep Kid on his toes.” Damned thief, he better have made it out of this alive or Ginzo was going to make his afterlife absolutely unbearable. How dare he leave his daughter! The blunt nails of his numb fingers scraped against the blood damp concrete he lay on as they twitched with a want to curl into fists. He wasn't really a religious man, but he'd do it, just like he was going to find his wife and then Kid's predecessor and make good on his threats to catch him at last.
“Like they could do anything else,” he heard another voice grumble from nearby, it sounded choked. Ginzo thought it might be Takamura. “Hey, Aoki, don't fall asleep, moron.”
A weary stilted chuckle answered, followed by slow words, “S'rry, Taka-kun.”
“You're such a kid still,” the gruff Takamura grunted, though it was rather fond, like an uncle teasing a favorite nephew, or an older brother annoyed and amused by his younger siblings insistence on aggravating him.
Takamura was right. Hakuba and that Edogawa kid– Creepy, creepy little brat, but a good kid. Reminded him a lot of Kaito when he'd been younger, but with an appreciation for order that Kaito would never possess. Those two would keep Kid from getting sloppy whether Ginzo told them to or not. They'd probably have a heart attack from his message since he'd always been so opposed to them, but it was the thought that counted, right?
The sound of something being dragged against concrete alerted his fading consciousness to movement, and Ginzo blinked away the haziness. “Hey, Keibu...?” With a bit of effort he was able to identify the voice as Ito. The man had a trickle of blood sliding down from under his helmet somewhere, but he looked clear headed enough. “What about...?” His hesitancy was palpable, reflected in the faces of the other three, even concussed Aoki.
Ginzo licked the sweat off his upper lip, where he could feel the rough bristles of his mustache as he did so. They weren't completely unprepared for this, not after what they'd observed. The Kid Task Force wasn't made of blind fools. “Tell that damned thief,” Ginzo croaked, alarmed at how hard it was to breathe. He didn't struggle though, but put the last of his life into his final words. If there was a God, or Gods, waiting to judge him then he would make sure his last words were worthy of being judged by. “Tell him to watch his back. We're right behind him.”
Grim and solemn, those four members of his task force stared back at him. In their faces Ginzo could see the wordless reply: His message was received loud and clear.
Nakamori Ginzo might have been a fool, but he wasn't an idiot, and, as he died, he died knowing that the plans he'd made would be taken care of, that his daughter was in the best hands he could place her in, and that he'd done everything with his life he could hope for to that point. He might not have wanted to die staring at the cracked underside of a wedge of concrete as the sulfur yellow glow of a dim flashlight made the craggy edges dance like ghouls, but the low murmur of his wounded task force joking weakly as if he wasn't slowly fading away just feet from them made it okay. He might not have wanted to leave his little girl, or the boy he'd watched grow up with her, nor his job, but he'd accepted that he was going to have to, and he died with the innate knowledge that things were in the hands of those best capable of taking care of them.
He wasn't happy with his death, but he was... satisfied.
Chapter List, Chapter 03, Apocrypha 02; Valkyrie
no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 04:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 04:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 06:48 pm (UTC)(...and next time, remind me that I'll bring handkerchiefs :D )
no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 06:51 pm (UTC)I'm glad to hear it. I sometimes worry I'm too detailed, and I try very hard to keep things as IC as possible. XD I love exploring character depth. It's one of my favorite things when I write.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 07:28 pm (UTC)Your work amazes me to the end!
Keep up the good work! :D
no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 07:29 pm (UTC)poor Aoko...
Date: 2010-06-28 09:41 pm (UTC)Re: poor Aoko...
Date: 2010-06-28 10:12 pm (UTC)I can tell you that Heiji does appear in chapter 4, and plays a large part through til chapter 7, before disappearing for a bit again, though not for long.
As for a scene between Toichi and Ginzo, well, I'm afraid you'll just have to use your imagination as I have no intention of writing that sort of scene anytime soon. Sorry.
Anyway, glad your enjoying the fic, and thanks for the comment!
no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 04:50 am (UTC)The characters felt right in their reactions and voice and your writing was wonderful as always even though the content was sad and I can't wait to see what other scenes and plots you produce for this series
no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 04:52 am (UTC)And, I assure you, there is plenty more to come. :]
no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 06:29 am (UTC)1. Aoko
2. Conan + Hakuba
3. Kaitou Kid
is a tad surprising but not really. If Kaitou Kid hadn't made the list it would have been out of character(Nakamori spent so many years chasing him, it was was his life was all about.)
I also really like the personal details about his everyday life. Chatting with Aoko, and the celebratory dinner that wasn't in celebration but still continued, to his pleasure listening to his daughters rants until they both give in to laughter. You characterization brought so much life.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-29 06:33 am (UTC)I'm glad you think it was so well done, it's certainly one of those hard topics to depict realistically, after all, I've never died. XD
no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 08:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 03:37 pm (UTC)