AN: This is an experiment to see if I actually got better at writing over the years as such reviews would be appreciated otherwise I have to go off how many hits this story has and that really doesn't show much because some people click in than out when they don't like something. Also I do not have a Beta unless spell check counts.

Disclaimer: I do not own Case Closed or any related works such as Magic Kaitou and as such suing me will get you nothing.

It was a delicate balancing act leaving some things behind adding others to pick up the slack and always, always being careful not to slip into that easy free feeling of seeing what no one else does and knowing too much about everything, slipping, sliding as excitement pounding, begging you to open your mouth and the rush grinding to a halt as the words ring in your ears like alarm bells, 'Promise me you'll give this up, promise never to become a detective.' and the world grinds to a halt and you turn your head away ashamed, refusing say anything as your heart wails in loss. You console yourself with the thought that you'll write down everything and send it in anonymously later, but it aches fiercely and you decide to pick up a new hobby (as if you don't have enough already). So what if all these hobbies you have take away from time making or hanging out with friends (you meet more murderers and sociopaths than friendly people anyway).

It was hacking this time. So you could type reports directly into the police system instead of writing another stupid letter (it was more efficient this way anyway), if you used this as an excuse to look through old cold cases and study finished cases (well no one had to know and the justice system was working better than ever as a result). The convenience of writing a report on site with your (experimental) cellphone was hardly anything to scoff at either.

Admittedly the search for the hacker named 5h312 ('ShER' for Sherlock Holmes) was something you could have done without.

You had a concert that week, right after soccer practice and tomorrow you have lessons in Taiho Jutsu, followed by a Yoseikan Budo match a day later (you would have rather learned Bartitsu, but there was no one to teach you and Taiho-jutsu was more practical anyway). All to keep you from paying attention to how empty your life feels without the slick, quick, adrenaline raising, rush of fast thoughts and faster actions, observations and deductions falling from your mouth cutting, dawning, realizations and drawing out pauses to raise suspense (and add to the heady feeling taking root in your veins). It was the closest thing you had to that now (it wasn't enough), but you muddle through anyway ignoring the constrictive feeling in favour of activity after activity and the smile of your closest (only) friend, even while you watch everything with sharp eyes and sharper thoughts mouth hurting with the strain of smiling while dying by inches as the years go by. Ten years was a long time to spend denying yourself even while your friend says triumphantly that crime was lower than ever so they obviously don't need another detective (you're simultaneously glad and guilty that she doesn't realize that it's your doing, you didn't promise not to help after all and if she knew she'd take that from you too.) it's not a nice thought, but you fake a smile and quietly agree turning down to stare into your coffee cup.

Your meeting with Kaitou Kid was a complete accident and in retrospect quite lucky you were watching one of his heists from a building over when you caught the glint of a sniper rifle on the roof over ten minutes before the heist was scheduled to start, you felt your heart sink in your chest with the knowledge that even if the police took you seriously they wouldn't have made it in time and certainly not without alerting the sniper of their presence.

You forwent shoes and pulled on a dark gray hoodie checking through the hotel window to see if they're still there (they were) and silently make your way out of the building and across the street pausing to make sure no one noticed you and carefully made your way up the old fire escape on the side of the building (stereotypical, but good escape route if caught). You slowly slinked nearer to the shadowy figure in black calculating odds and deciding you should at least be able to keep them from making the shot they were going for (if you had refused to calculate the odds that you would survive the experience well, that was no one's business but your own and meaningless anyway).

You purposely got his attention once you were too close for him to get a shot at you and made sure to keep the moon at your back so your face would be obscured should the both of you get away from this alive and free. You managed to keep him busy until you heard cheers in the back round (A successful escape for Kid) and the frustrated sniper backed up and pulled a hand gun out and fired at you. You dodged the first and second shots and closed in on him in three quick steps and knocked the gun to the side and successfully restrained him (noting it wouldn't last long without something to restrain him with) when a voice piped up behind you.

'Huh, you really caught him.'