This was written for the LJ comm called 13fears and this particular one was the fear of heights with the subprompt "it's a long way down." I don't own Detective Conan/Magic Kaito, but the story is mine! The title is from 30 Seconds ot Mars' song "Edge of the Earth," which I kept listening to as I wrote this.

And I knew I must have been forgetting something, so I keep coming back here and editing. This little tidbit takes place in the middle of the very first chapter of the first volume of Magic Kaito between where he discovers the room and meets Jii on the roof. For those that haven't read Magic Kaito . . . you might enjoy it anyway.

He tugged at the tie once again, then muttered in frustration to himself and readjusted back to where it original sat. The knot rested against his throat unpleasantly, no matter how many times he loosened it. Nearly every thread resting on his body felt somewhat alien to him, yet so familiar as he thought about the clothing's previous owner. He felt a tug upon his shoulders from behind as a breeze came at him; his pure white cape flew back and snapped in the wind. Instinctively he reached up and pushed down the top hat, but he found it already quite secure. Kaito had been on rooftops on several occasions, but Kaitou Kid had more than likely stood upon them to view the cityscape at night on far more occasions than he. It looked different than what he remembered, especially with the past hours reeling through his head.

Earlier the city had glowed brightly, but now the glow remained in clusters while other places' windows had dimmed, but the red and white, blinking lights to signal pilots still remained. Dull sounds rose from below as nightly activities still commenced in portions of the city that never slept. Most residential areas were blanketed in darkness with the exception of the moonlight to creep through bedroom windows of sleeping innocents. The stars fought against the remaining city lights to shine in the dull city sky, even on a crisp, clear night such as this, though it was supposed to rain towards early morning and the clouds began to move in from off the coast.

Kaito stretched out his arms in front of him and watched the sleeves slink back, but the blue shirt barely went past his knuckles and the white sleeve above it only went back a couple inches further. Not a perfect fit, but it would do. Adjustments could be made later, if need be, once he figured out just what was going on.

Dad . . .

He could still hear his father's voice against the static in background of the tape's recording. It seemed unreal; everything seemed unreal at this point. The recent rival of Kaitou Kid did not add up, not when Toichi Kuroba had been gone for so long . . . Nothing was driving him at this point more than finding answers, and tonight he would find them. Kaito had the sinking feel that no matter what did happen, even if he found his answers, it would only lead to more questions. Why had his father become Kaitou Kid? What really happened to him? And most importantly at this point in time: who was pretending to be him now and for what reason? A sense of helplessness and confusion fell over the young man as the questions piled higher and higher. As confident as he had been when shouting to Aoko that he would not only catch Kaitou Kid, but would outdo him in magic earlier that same day, that confidence now hung for dear life on the lip of the drain. Not that he had any doubt he could defeat whomever he faced, it was more of the fact that Kaitou Kid had originally been his father -- the greatest magician in the world. However, Kaito had not specified which Kaitou Kid he would be catching, and as far as the papers were concerned, one had been running amuck prior to his discovery in his house. He narrowed his blue eyes at the thought and tugged one white glove more snuggly onto his hand with his teeth.

Always keep a poker face. Right, Dad. I remember. But could any poker face I ever put up even compare to yours? Kaito tugged on the other glove as well. Satisfied, he tipped the brim of the hat down just a bit for effect. It doesn't matter. Kaitou Kid is one in the same, and his poker face will remain the same.

Kaito idly ran his hands down the front of his suit, smoothing things out and mentally checking everything. His dress shoes made a small bit of sound against the rooftop of the building as he walked closer to the edge. Kaito had taken the stairs to reach this spot, but Kaitou Kid could not leave in that manner, nor could he make his grand entrance at the final destination. A phantom thief could only make a dramatic, flamboyant reveal. Something as simple as the stairs would not do. By what Kaito had found within the costume, his father had obviously believed the same.

The closer the edge came to him, the more he could see of what was directly below him. He had known from the beginning how high up he was, and that below him was nothing but hard concrete, but knowing and seeing rarely compared to one another. Just a matter of hours ago, he had wedged himself in between the wall and the ceiling of a classroom and hopped down with ease. The ceiling had perhaps been a maximum of ten feet away from the floor, hardly enough time for another nine-point-eight meters to build up upon the first second of free fall. A building was not a matter of double-digit feet, where story upon story sat on top of one another. The force of nine-point-eight meters per second would multiply drastically by the time he ever hit the pavement. Kaito could not help but grin tightly at the thought of the following morning paper's headlines, and Aoko not being surprised by the idiocy. His heart pounded against his ribcage a little stronger than normal just by looking at the lights below. Once his feet left the ledge, there was no turning back. Kaito took a deep breath and swallowed before exhaling; he then took several steps back and activated the hang-glider.

His cape stiffly shot out behind him and the metal bars snapped together rigidly while the belt snaked around his middle snuggly. The wind picked up and caught beneath the cape. Kaito felt it pull on him slightly and he nearly felt as though it would pick him up off the roof. He immediately grabbed the handles and put his weight down. Taking a few more steps back, he took a few more deep breaths and tried to organize his thoughts. Was this really worth it? What if something became of him? What would his mother do then . . .? Kaito gripped the handles tightly. No. It did not matter what happened from here on out; he would come out of it alive. No matter what . . . He had to to get what he wanted. Kaitou Kid would get what he wanted, regardless of the danger.

With a new determination building in his chest, and without second thought, he began to rush back towards the edge. Only the moment before his left foot hit the ledge did his mind snap back to its right mind, but he returned to reality a little too late. The target in his mind shattered to pieces and made way to the sight down below as his feet were already stepping their last steps off into the air.

"Kuso!" he yelled as he realized the feeling beneath his feet was nothingness. Kaito was certain he was about to plummet to his untimely demise as the air rushed past him and the lights momentarily blurred. The well-clothed young man tumbled through the air, out of control and unsure of what to do. His view dramatically changed from the city below to the night sky above, then back to the city again. The pattern repeated rapidly several times before things started to level out with an upward gust in the nick of time. At first the hang-glider lurched back and upward, but once the wind died down, Kaito felt the world start to level out. He looked below him and saw the world back to how it should be, but his heart was still thumping rapidly and the blood pounded in his eardrums. The young man took panted. The world may have stopped spinning, but his thoughts were still tumbling about as though in a dryer.

It took some time, but finally Kaito felt secure enough to move his head about and he noticed his hands still holding onto the handles with a death grip. They hurt, he realized, but he was not sure he dared let go to flex one at a time yet. A bit of sweat ran down the side of his face and he could feel his bangs starting to mat against his forehead. Though the more he calmed down, the more he felt the night's breeze. Flying . . . was actually kind of fun. He tilted slightly to the left and felt himself start to slowly shift in that direction; the other direction proved to be of just as much ease. Kaito grinned; he could become accustomed to this. Finding the proper direction, he sailed across the sky to where answers awaited him.