Disclaimer: Magic Kaito and its characters are the property of Gosho Aoyama, not me. Also, as an anonymous online writer, I'm probably pretty difficult to track down. So it is probably not feasible (or for that matter, profitable) to sue me. Good day.

Rated T in case things get a bit darker later on, but all this chapter has is a bit of swearing and angst.

Begins - well, you'll figure it out, won't you? Let's hope that you've read the first chapter of Magic Kaito, or you might be a bit lost.

Chasing Phantoms

Kaito gave up on the broken tape player. It had been nice to hear his father's voice another time, but the tape was tangled in itself and useless, and the tape player was obviously very old. He wiped the cover with one hand, sweeping a considerable amount of dust off. A lot of it ended up in his face. He seized up and just barely muffled a sneeze. Putting the tape player back on its table, he stood up and stared around the room, awestruck. It felt like he had just uncovered some long-forgotten tomb. An eerie silence fell around him. Each step he took sent clouds of dust spiraling into the stuffy air, which moved sluggishly, slowly, as if it was reluctant to stir from its eight-year slumber.

Nothing had been touched in all that time, and Kaito was careful not to brush against anything in the cluttered room, unwillingly to disturb the quiet and the dust. He stepped cautiously through the mess, as if drawn to the back, to a clothes rack that stood proudly there, between a desk and a work bench that was covered with gadgets and loose parts. A pure white costume hung from the rack, complete with a snow-white cape and a top hat perched jauntily on the very top peg. Some remote part of his mind noted that it was like the costume that Kaitou Kid wore. Exactly the same, he realized.

Kaito had shied away from touching anything, but something about the suit made him step forward and reach out.

He lifted the hat off its peg.

A wave of pure, raw emotion swept through him. It was like being physically hit. There were so many emotions whirling around his head and heart that Kaito didn't even know what most of them were. His head reeled, unable to cope with all of it – with any of it, really. He dropped the hat and slammed his palm into his forehead, breathing hard.

It had all taken place in less than a second. He stared at the hat, now lying innocently on the floor. His chest heaved, and his breath sounded harsh and shaky to his own ears. He forced himself to calm down, close his eyes, and take deep breaths. As his pounding heart started to slow and beat at a normal rate, he looked back at the rest of the costume.

A charm with a clover design on it dangled from a cord out of the jacket's coat pocket. Gingerly, he poked at it. He pulled away as another wave of emotion passed over him, but less strong, less certain. Either he had gotten used to it, or the charm wasn't as bad, for some reason. It swung a little from his touch, every bit as innocent as the hat. Curious and determined now, Kaito caught the charm in his fingertips, ignoring the confusion that took hold of him as he touched it, and drew it out of the pocket. A monocle swung from the other end of the cord, and he carefully caught it in his other hand.

The raw emotion cleared away in an instant, leaving him blinking down at the monocle in utter bemusement.

You're not him.

Kaito did a double take. The thought had sprung to mind, almost as if it had been his own. But not his own. There was something decidedly "other" about it.

Where's Toichi?

He had to be going crazy. There was no other explanation. Costume pieces did not ask after the whereabouts of deceased relatives. He was insane, cracked, totally and utterly—

He's dead? The voice echoed in his head again. He can't be dead. A brittle sort of panic hovered just beneath the surface.

Kaito didn't want to talk about it. Especially not with a disembodied voice that he was probably just imagining, anyway.

He wished he could convince himself that it was all his imagination.

It was like ice had been dumped all over him. I'm not your imagination. And he can't be dead. Kaito braced himself against a chair as another wave of emotion threatened to submerge him. He probably escaped; he wouldn't be able to come back. He—

"Stop it!" Kaito spoke aloud without thinking. He would have felt sorry for whatever-it-was if he wasn't being dragged along on its emotional roller coaster. Logic would have said to put the monocle down, to get out of there, but he found himself still clutching the monocle, his nails digging into his own palm.

The confused tangle of emotions receded. Something seemed to withdraw, throwing up walls until only a trace of it remained. Kaito could have almost pretended that things were perfectly normal, if it weren't for the feeling of being watched. It made the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stick up, and he shivered.

You're Kaito-kun, aren't you? The voice was a whisper now, yet still easy to make out. There was a light, shimmering quality to it, even when it was dark with some indefinable emotion. Toichi's son.

Yes. Kaito did his best to think the reply back at him. (Her? It?) He got the feeling that it was farther away, that it would only be able to hear what he intentionally "said" to it.

And Toichi… the voice trailed off. Kaito was silent. I won't accept it. He can't be dead, I'll find him, I'll… and again it trailed off. Kaito caught the thought without "hearing" it: What could a spirit haunting a piece of clothing do?

Except maybe it could do quite a bit, if recent events had anything to do with it. Kaito shivered again – ghosts were a little weird for him.

"Excuse me, but I don't really know who you are," Kaito whispered to the air around him. He suspected, but he didn't know, and he didn't trust himself to think exactly what he wanted the ghost to hear without thinking something that he didn't want it to hear.

Kaitou Kid.

Kaito took a second to absorb that bit of information. "So you're the one who's been breaking into those museums?"

I've broken into a lot of museums. Which ones do you mean?

Right, great idea, ask a thief if he's been robbing museums. Kaito could have kicked himself. Kid even sounded proud.

"I mean last Saturday – there was a break-in at the Museum of Ancient History." Kaito couldn't quite believe that he'd been about to set out to confront the Kaitou Kid and had found him in his own home. It seemed a bit too good to be true. Although he had been expecting Kid to have a little more… well, mass to him. Kaito moved the monocle from hand to hand, examining the clover pattern on the charm.

A nice place. Do they still have the Chinese mythology exhibit next to the thing on primitive jewelry-making?

"I don't know. But was that you?"

Kid sounded puzzled, and more than a little wistful. I've been stuck in here for years. I haven't been to any museums since the last time I saw Toichi…

And now he was sad again. Kaito hadn't had any idea that ghosts were subject to mood swings. Or whatever Kid was, anyway – Kaito wasn't entirely sure about the "ghost" idea.

Why did you think it was me? Kid asked. Now that Kaito bothered to notice it, he saw that Kid's white costume had its own layer of dust clinging to it – it had been here for a long time.

Kaito blinked. "Well, everyone's saying that the Kaitou Kid is back, so when you said you were Kid, I just guessed that it was you."

…Another Kid? There was interest in that voice now; maybe a thread of hope.

"Yeah," Kaito confirmed. "Does this mean it's an impost-"

Of course it's an impostor! It's all a question of if it's the right impostor. I have to go, has he announced another heist? Have the police noticed the differences between him and me? What tricks has he pulled on the Task Force – does that even exist any more? It can't have without me, not for so long. How long has it been – seven years? Maybe eight, I forget how old you were—

"W-wait," Kaito's head was spinning again. "Slow down. There's a heist tonight." He accidentally tightened his grip on the monocle – and on second thought quickly relaxed, hoping that Kid couldn't feel that.

Tonight?

"Yeah. By the 'right' impostor, what do you mean by that?" Kaito asked carefully.

There was a long pause.

It could be Toichi.

Kaito wasn't sure what was harder to take – the possibility of his dad being a thief, or the possibility of his dad being alive. He held the monocle for a long moment, afraid to get his hopes up. Hadn't he been through this before? Hadn't he dreamed, when he was young, that his father would appear out of thin air one day, and prove that magic had outwitted death? And every time, he had been wrong, until the cold reality of death had settled in, and he no longer dared to hope that magic went as far as miracles.

But if he didn't go, how would he know? And what if, just this time, there really was a chance of seeing Dad?

With a sigh, but not the faintest clue what he was doing, Kaito lifted the monocle to his eye, and clamped it on to the bridge of his nose.

"I'll take you there," he decided out loud, and reached for the white suit. And we'll see if he shows up, he added silently. In any case, Kid still heard him.

* * *

Kid didn't say anything while Kaito changed, but it was very obvious that he was still there, just being quiet, and perhaps waiting, although for what, Kaito couldn't say.

Kaito examined each piece of clothing as he shook it out and put it on. The dust slid off easily, leaving the suit as immaculate as it had been the day it was made. The simple blue dress shirt hanging with the jacket looked like something you could get at any department store, but upon closer examination, proved to be made of silk, and to bear an embroidered clover on its collar, in exactly the same color thread as the shirt itself. He found the same symbol on every other piece, including the hat – he noticed the clover on the underside of the brim, after cautiously recovering the hat from the floor. The gloves were made out of some material he couldn't name, with weave so fine and stitches so small that they seemed perfectly smooth at first glance. There were even pairs of socks and shoes to go with the outfit, all of an extremely high quality that Kaito hadn't known even existed in socks.

He really wanted to know where his father had gotten all of this stuff.

Changing into Kid's costume was like putting on a second skin, or maybe like shedding the first one. Kaito didn't feel any more or less himself than before, but at the same time, he was lighter and faster and more aware than he had ever been. Everything was clearer from behind the monocle.

He also had no clue what had driven him to dress up as an internationally-wanted thief and make plans to visit a museum. But he also didn't care too much. Somehow, it felt like the right thing to do. Kaito made sure he had his usual supply of tricks on him, and fiddled with the hat a bit, not used to how it sat on his head. He navigated the clutter of the room with unexpected ease, and located a door in the corner that couldn't possibly exit back into the house. It opened with a rough squeak – its hinges were as covered with rust as everything else was with dust – and Kaito stepped out directly onto the fence that bordered his family's property.

A fence? he thought, wondering why in the world he had stepped outside for this.

Kid laughed. Really laughed – it sounded the same as if he had been a being of real flesh and blood, balancing on the fence right next to Kaito. Every house in this neighborhood has a fence or a wall around either the house or just the backyard. It's a highway. You only see a fence, Kaito-kun?

Kaito surveyed the area around them. It was true, you could go almost anywhere using the fences. And they weren't well-lit, he realized. Many were far from the street, and it would be difficult to make out someone running along them from a distance. So this was how the Kaitou Kid got around on foot…

Well, you can also use the sewers, noted Kid with amusement.

Kaito didn't feel inclined to. They zipped along the top of the fence, with only the stars, a sliver of moon, and the occasional distant street lamp to light their way.

* * *

When Kaito arrived at the museum, via a network of fences, walls, and telephone wires, the sheer number of police officers and security guards was enough to give him pause. He gave a low whistle and leaned back against the trunk of the tree he was hiding in.

"So," he whispered. "What now?"

We go in, answered Kid easily. And we go up.

Up? Kaito thought back at him.

Kid sounded like he was giving some sort of lecture. Thieving 101, maybe. Look, there's police all around, he explained, as if this were all very obvious. Once the target's been stolen, they'll tighten things up and check everyone for masks. Easiest and most dramatic way to get away is the roof.

Wouldn't you get stuck there? Kaito was starting to feel extremely uneasy about this.

Not if you're a professional, Kid told him cheerfully.

Kaito was not reassured. He hesitated.

But soon enough, he found himself dropping from the tree, sneaking along next to a low wall, and making a dash for the "employees only" door at the side. A police jacket was cast over a nearby bush. Apparently the guard had gone off to take a smoke. Kaito's feet carried him to the door, his hands picked the lock with ease, and it was only once he was inside the building with the door closed behind him that he realized that he had never tried to do any of that.

"Kid?" he hissed. "What the hell was-?"

Kid cut him off. Don't make noise.

What did you do? Kaito repeated, silently this time.

If I had left it up to you, you'd still be hiding in the tree. Kaito had to admit he was right, but… And we have to get to the roof before the heist starts. I'm never late, so if this impostor is any good, he won't be either. They found a flight of stairs, and started to climb. His – or maybe their – feet made no sound on the steps, but they still managed to speed up the stairs. A couple times, they had to hide when they heard some officers coming down the stairs or on the floor they were about to pass, but Kid avoided and evaded the police easily, and in no time at all, they were pushing the door open to the roof and the cool night air.

It was a different world. No one was there – it was just Kaito and the voice in his head. The wind swept around his ears; any noise from the ground that reached his ears seemed distant and unimportant. A sea of lights reflected the stars above, except this sea shone brighter and more colorful, and had rivers flowing through it of pure light. Kaito wasn't sure if it was him or Kid that looked up to the shining crescent moon overhead and murmured, "Beautiful," just under his breath.

But he would have bet it was Kid. Kaito didn't usually get too emotional over the moon. Still, this was somehow different. It was like the moon had come out to watch them and wish them luck, and he felt almost grateful that it was there.

Kaito had to admit that he probably going crazy by most reasonable standards of sanity. He was standing on a rooftop, dressed as an internationally-wanted criminal, and waiting for the criminal himself to show up. Except the actual criminal was a spirit attached to the costume he was wearing, so really he had just brought the real thing to the heist, and was confronting the impostor, who'd been the one stealing for the past couple of months, and quite possibly was the one who'd been stealing a decade ago as the real Kid.

Yep, definitely going insane. As if hearing voices wasn't enough of an indicator.

Hey!

By the way, Kaito thought quickly, changing the subject. Doesn't Kid wear a mask, too?

When I'm in disguise, sure.

No, I mean when you're in your regular heist, uh, "costume." Like a theater mask. I read about it in the paper.

Kid paused. You're sure? he asked, his voice betraying not the slightest emotion.

Yeah. It was on the news, too. He always appears wearing a white mask. They had no way of telling who he was because of it.

Kid fell silent for a long time. Something was hanging in the air, and Kaito wondered if maybe he had said something wrong. Then, without saying or even thinking anything "out loud", Kid looked back up at the moon, and produced a theater mask from somewhere.

Kaito blinked. I wasn't even aware I had that.

We weren't supposed to need it. But in this case, it should be appropriate.

Kaito was just asking what Kid meant when a sharp crash caught their attention. It came from somewhere below them. Kid slipped on the mask, and walked to the very edge of the building.

And there was the "Kaitou Kid" climbing up, straight towards them. And Kaito was calling out to him, and lecturing him on technique. And-

"I've been waiting for you, Kaitou Kid!" It was a challenge, and not a friendly one, either. And Kaito knew, just from the way Kid spoke to the impostor, from the harsh note in that voice, that it couldn't be his father. Not in a million years.

It wasn't. It was Jii, of all people. Kid registered no surprise at that discovery. But Kaito felt a flinch from Kid when Jii mentioned Toichi… and his murderers.

Later, Kaito would remember only a few details of the next few minutes, and what he always thought of as the beginning of a completely different life, maybe a different state of being. He wasn't sure – a lot of things changed that night. But he would remember his head spinning, and not being able to believe what was going on around him. His father had been murdered. And he still had to ask…

"Was my dad a thief? Was he the real Kaitou Kid?"

There was a faint duh from Kid, but Kaito told him to shut up. He needed this to be confirmed by someone he knew was real, that he could see and touch. Kid seemed vaguely insulted, but said nothing.

"Yes." Jii said it very quietly, like he was afraid the very air around them was listening in – and in a way, there was someone there, one that Jii couldn't possibly know about. But of course Kid already knew almost anything Jii had to say, and probably deserved to hear anything that he didn't already know.

Then, a gruff shout rent the air, and all hell broke loose.

Police began to pour onto the roof. Nakamori was bellowing something very interesting about the Kaitou Kid's top hat and just where he could stick it once he'd been arrested and thrown in what sounded like a very uncomfortable cell. Funny, Kaito would think later, that Nakamori's cursing would be a detail that stuck out in his memory. Kaito shouted to Jii to get away, and prepared to make his own escape as a distraction. Then he said the words that began his career as an internationally wanted jewel thief.

"It's not 'Young Master,'" he told Jii firmly, straightening up, one hand finding its way to the brim of his hat. The shouts of the police and the din of the helicopter blades chopping through the air fell into the background as he gave a broad smile.

"I'm the Kaitou Kid."

Except it wasn't Kid who had said that. Kaito knew, as he "disappeared" and disguised himself as a police officer, that those words had been entirely his own.

* * *

Kid said nothing as they made their way back out of the building. Kaito acted like he knew where he was going, and none of the real police questioned him. Once they were outside, it was easy to slip away, and simple to change out of the police uniform and into a normal outfit. He could have been any other teen, out a bit late on a school night.

For quite some time, they walked on in silence. Kaito took a short-cut through a park that he knew. It was deserted – he was the only one on the path that wound through it. This park was a very sheltered and secluded place to be, if not simply from the darkness – most street lights had gone out around one in the morning – than from the trees towering over him from either side of the path. Kaito felt reasonably safe, walking in this particular park. And if he had to say something, this was as good a place as any.

You weren't surprised, he observed dully.

Of course I was. I thought that he might still be alive… Kid's mental voice became bitter. How naive of me. I really should have listened to you.

That's not what I'm talking about. You weren't surprised when- when Jii said he was murdered. When Jii said Dad was murdered, you just – I could tell. You knew. Kaito's thoughts were running in circles, and try as he might, he couldn't get them to obey him. He was scattered in a thousand directions and a million pieces, and he couldn't think much farther than the one fact that his father had been murdered.

I didn't know. Kid's reply cut softly through the confused jumble of Kaito's thoughts. But… I suspected, even if I didn't want to believe it. A thief makes a lot of enemies.

Kaito found that hard to argue with. But it still felt horribly unfair.

I apologize, Kid continued. I should not have let you come here. It would be best if you weren't involved. I can understand if you blame me, but please do not involve yourself any further.

Kaito stopped walking. He was already involved, didn't Kid realize that? It had been his father, not Kid's, who had been murdered. It was Kaito that had to find out that his father was a thief from the thief himself who was somehow not his father. And it was Kaito who had found the thief in the first place, and Kaito who had discovered just who his father was.

Too late for that, he told Kid. And I don't blame you. I said back there that I was the Kaitou Kid, didn't I? I'm going to find out who killed him, and I want you to help me find out. You deserve to know too.

I… well… Kid grasped for words. For once, he seemed to be completely speechless – in a very broad sense of the word, of course. Kaito stood, motionless, waiting for Kid's answer. Even through the walls, Kaito could feel Kid's surprise, and an awkward hesitation.

I'll help you, of course, Kid said at last. I just – hope you will be careful. And thank you. For back there.

Kaito wasn't exactly sure what Kid meant, but he nodded and continued towards home. They walked in silence, wrapped within their own separate thoughts, as the crescent moon watched them and guided them back to the room where everything began.

A/N: Well, I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of Chasing Phantoms, and if so, please review and tell me what I did right. If not, please review anyway and tell me to shape up.

As this is the first multi-chapter story that I have actually posted - and is already longer than all the one-shots I have up so far - I am unsure how this will turn out. I'm certainly writing and working to finish the next chapter (which I have already started) but I don't know how long it will take me to do so, and I certainly don't know how long my attention span for this story will last. Ick. This is why I've avoided posting long stories. That said, it is my intention at this time to continue and eventually finish this story, and I think this story's chances are a lot better than some of my other works in progress. It's a lot less complicated, at least.

It's entirely possible that this plunny was partially inspired by Three Thieves, by the both very talented Ysabet and Rednightengale. But I suspect it may be more inspired by some other fics that I found while browsing LJ.

Thanks for reading! I look forward to reading your feedback and hopefully I'll be updating soon!