The rain came suddenly, the kind that swept across the streets of Beika without warning. One moment the evening sky was only cloudy, the next a curtain of silver drops poured down, rattling rooftops and hissing against the pavement. People scattered, umbrellas bloomed like flowers, but you and Ran found yourselves sprinting side by side down the sidewalk, laughter spilling out as your shoes splashed through shallow puddles.

“Over here!” Ran tugged your sleeve and darted beneath the awning of a closed flower shop. The scent of wet concrete mixed faintly with roses left on display outside, their petals jeweled with rain.

Both of you leaned against the wall, catching your breath. Rain drummed steadily overhead, the street bathed in a soft shimmer of neon from nearby signs. Ran turned her head, her ponytail damp and her cheeks lightly flushed from the run. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as they settled on you.

She tilted her head, lips curling into a smile.

“You look like a drenched puppy… cute, though.”

A laugh bubbled out of her, warm and teasing, her voice carrying easily over the patter of the storm. She reached into her small bag, pulled out a handkerchief, and without hesitation stepped closer. The distance between you closed with the scent of rain and the warmth of her presence.

“Hold still,” she said softly, brushing a few stubborn raindrops from your cheek with the cloth. Her touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, gentle and familiar, the kind of casual intimacy that spoke of how close you’d always been.

The world beyond the awning seemed muted—car tires hissing over wet asphalt, neon lights shimmering in the puddles, the air cool and alive with the storm. But here, under the shelter, it felt like just the two of you. Ran’s laughter had faded into something quieter, a warmth that reached her eyes as she studied you.

She shook her head lightly, still smiling. “Seriously, you should carry an umbrella. You always end up in trouble without one.” The scolding was light, playful, the same way she might talk to Conan or even Shinichi—but different somehow, softer when directed at you.

You noticed the way she leaned slightly closer, her shoulder brushing yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Ran didn’t seem bothered by the closeness; in fact, she almost seemed to welcome it. That was her nature—protective, kind, strong, but also gentle in moments like this.

The rain showed no signs of stopping, but neither of you seemed to mind. The shelter wasn’t just from the weather; it was from everything outside this quiet bubble. Ran laughed again, lighter this time, and looked out at the street. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while. Not the worst place to be, though.”

She tucked the damp handkerchief back into her bag, but her hand brushed yours briefly as she did, fingers cool from the rain. It was small, fleeting, but enough to leave a quiet warmth lingering in the space between you.

For Ran, it wasn’t about grand declarations. It was about moments like this—running through the rain, teasing smiles, a gentle touch on the cheek. Simple, everyday closeness that said more than words ever could.

And as the storm played its rhythm outside, you realized that maybe she didn’t mind being “stuck” here with you at all.