This is all Gallery13's fault. Thus, this is dedicated to Gallery13.

This is fanfiction. There. Disclaimed.

This is supposed to be a fairly short fic, but it still will be more than one chapter. (Side-project, yes.)

Prelude

It all started when Kid vanished after a heist.

Now, everyone knew that Kid vanishing after a heist was pretty much par for the course. Kid always vanished after a heist. Nothing seemed unusual about that particular getaway and—as far as Conan had been able to tell—no snipers had shown up. It had been one of those 'response to challenge' heists, wherein Kid hadn't actually taken anything, but had instead left a mocking note in permanent pen on the inside of the bulletproof glass covering an ornately tooled scroll-case.

(This is what happened when people boasted about new security systems being Kid-proof on national television.)

The morning after that amusing little incident, Conan had gotten a call from Hakuba asking whether he had seen Kuroba Kaito.

Conan stiffened, "No," he'd answered, faking nonchalance. Hakuba had introduced the prankster-magician (whom Conan had immediately pegged as Kid) and been quite put out when Conan had feigned ignorance. Pushing back the brief flash of memory, Conan returned his focus to the phone. "Did you check his house?"

The huff on the other end of the line would have answered that even if Conan hadn't expected the other detective to have done so. He wouldn't be calling if he had anywhere left to look.

"He's not home and it looks like he hasn't been there in over a day. His mother's out of town and Jii-san has informed me that he hasn't been by the Blue Parrot, either."

The worry pooling in Conan's stomach spiked into dread. "I see. I'll let you know if I see him, Hakuba-nii."

A curt thanks was the only response before the line clicked to silence.

Conan stared at his phone for a moment, then dialed the magician's number. There was a chance Kaito (and how crazy was it that he was on given-name, no-suffix terms with Kaitou Kid's civilian persona?) had only been stranded somewhere and not answered Hakuba's calls (because Hakuba would have called) because Hakuba's aid would involve giving solid evidence.

"We're sorry, the phone you have called is out of service."

Conan snapped his phone shut, frowning. Out of service—that meant either broken or somewhere a signal would not reach. The second was unlikely, which meant Kaito was without a phone and in trouble.

Please, let it only be trouble.

xxxx

Sighing, Conan made his way to Agasa's to use the basement passage to the Kudo mansion, frustrated and anxious. There had been no sign of the magician, either as Kuroba or Kid, and Conan hoped he'd manage to wring something out of his dad's files.

Once inside his own home, safe from prying eyes or ears, he dropped his 'Conan' masks. Masks, plural, because he really did have more than one. The 'little kid' one that worked way too well for his mediocre acting skills (although he was getting better at acting his apparent age without coming off as either too old or too young) and the one he managed almost flawlessly, according to the reactions of both Agasa and Haibara.

And Hattori, when he was there. Tireless, unstoppable. Fearless. He was none of those things, of course, but it helped the others (especially Haibara, so long having lived in fear) to think he was. Here, though, alone in his (dark and quiet) home, he could let it drop for a while.

Shinichi sighed, scrubbing a too-small hand over his face, and made his way past the library towards the hallway to his father's office. Well, 'office' was a polite way of putting it. It was really more a 'lair', and had creepy little props from some of Yuusaku's books-turned-movies.

He started down the hall, sock-covered feet padding on hardwood floors, then paused, glancing around.

He felt like he was being watched. Not the kind of watched that he got from syndicate members or the odd hired assassin after Mouri Kogoro staking out the man's 'family', but the kind he got from Hakuba or Takagi from time to time. Interest, but more burningly curious than malicious.

Wait.

He felt that way when Kid was pulling the stalking routine, too.

"Kaito?" he asked quietly, stilling. If Kaito hadn't yet announced his presence after nearly a twenty-four-hour absence during which his phone had been destroyed but he had managed to get into the Kudo mansion… yeah, okay, no. Shinichi wasn't sure why that would be, but most of the possibilities weren't good.

He started moving again when a flash of white caught his attention and he spun towards the wall. There, Kaito in full Kid regalia, standing and looking more distressed than Shinichi had seen, either as himself or as Conan.

In the wall-mounted mirror.

He spun a full circle, taking in the empty hallway, then returned his attention to the mirror.

Kaito, Kid, and from the look of it standing with his back to the opposite wall. Shinichi could see the reflection of his own child-sized body blocking off part of the image… not projected from within, and the telling lack of light-stream meant not projected from without, either.

It looked like a simple reflection, shadowed by the dimness of the hall as the sunset's light filtered through heavy curtains in open-doored rooms.

Kid took a step forward, standing right behind Shinichi's shoulder. A hesitant hand reached out and settled lightly on top of the shrunken detective's head.

Shinichi stiffened. He could feel that! He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, mussing his own hair against the pressure of palm and fingers… Nothing. But…

He swallowed, fighting down instinctive panic. Reached out a hand.

Cloth, cool and silken, crinkling beneath his fingers.

No.

"Kaito?" Ghosts weren't real. They couldn't be—but teens couldn't revert to grade-schoolers, either. Beyond all else, though, Shinichi didn't want Kaito to be dead.

The hand on top of his head lifted slightly, one finger tapping while a second hand nudged his shoulder, urging him to turn back to the mirror.

He didn't resist the silent instruction, because if he was looking at the mirror he could see.

The hands lifted away, and if he hadn't been able to watch the motion of them as they lifted the blue-banded white top hat away from messy dark hair, he might have panicked. White-gloved hands flipped the hat upside-down, then one removed the clover-charmed monocle and dropped it into formed silk, leaving Kaito's face—and expression—clear against the mirror's silvered surface.

He looked… relieved, edges of fear softening into something more hopeful.

Still not a word from his (invisible) companion, and that was unnerving. Shinichi swallowed, "Kaito… what happened?"

A grimace shown only in reflective glass. Lips moving, slow and silent. Shinichi was glad of his lip-reading ability, because as much of an imprecise practice as it was, with Kid's skills the meaning was very straightforward. 'Denied existence; unseen, unheard.'

Dead. Not that Shinichi hadn't been able to see it already, but the confirmation was enough to have him closing his eyes for a long moment. "How?"

'Angry mahou.'

Mahou, magic, as in mystical power and not the stage magic Kaito himself used. A riddle?

"Who did this to you and why?" because for Kaito to be here, now, as a ghost seen only by reflection… Shinichi could not deny him. The murdered should always have their killers named, and this was Kaito.

'The Red Sorceress, a natural enemy.'

More riddles, and perhaps he couldn't state clearly. The living and the dead were not supposed to interact and legends often spoke of riddling hints.

"Where?"

'Hidden.'

Well. That was… not terribly helpful. No crime scene (no body), no evidence, no case. Sooner or later Kuroba Kaito would be reported missing, and maybe Hakuba would help Conan look (Hattori would, if called), but without even knowing where to start…

"Why?"

'Answered once.'

"No, why here? Why me?"

'Nowhere else, no one else. You know me.'

Shinichi closed his eyes, calling up the unstoppable part of his Conan persona. "I'll find a way to settle this." Not fix. Death couldn't be fixed. In the end, he caught the murderers for the victims. He'd just never thought he'd see one linger after. Silent though it was, Kid's very presence was a plea and he would not turn him aside.

xxxx

And so it is laid out in beginning. As for the rest, you will see.