(this was done by Araine. i REALLY liked this and i hope you forgive me for posting it here. most of my freinds are on this fanfic sight and it's just TOO GOOD to pass up. so all writes go to here. NOONE but Gosho-Sensei owns magic kaito)
Koizumi Akako wraps herself in secrets she practices her magic in dark, hidden places, where none but the most observant will ever set eyes on her.
Hakuba Saguru is among the most observant. He is one of the most observant people she has ever known.
She seems, at first glance, a normal high school girl if a beautiful one. He notices with a glance the indent of her pentacle necklace, worn underneath her uniform, and the charms around her wrists. He can catch the faintest whiff of scented candles and tea leaves from her, and it is his first deduction that she is merely a trend-follower, into the idea of magic more for the mystery and allure than anything. Someone who can be safely ignored.
This theory is revised when he catches her in the school hallway one day after school. Her plum-purple hair rose upward courtesy of some wind unnoticed by Hakuba and her eyes close, as she murmurs words that he for some reason cannot hear in the empty corridor.
A moment later, there is a book in her hand a large, bound tome, clearly more suited to a medieval library than a Japanese high school. Hakuba wonders where she managed to hide that on her person. There are not nearly enough places within her seifuku, he thinks clinically, and she isn t carrying a bag.
She stares him down with unnervingly red eyes. He does not look away.
After a moment, she smiles to herself and walks the other way.
Hakuba remains in the hallway for a while longer, wondering.
He watches her closely from then on.
--
His gaze is on her from across the classroom, warm brown eyes narrowed like he is attempting to solve a puzzle.
She could read his mind with a simple incantation, but she finds herself severely disinclined to do so. If her study of magic has taught her one thing, it is that hunches usually have a grain of wisdom to them.
Instead, she waits until class is over and they are cleaning the classroom. He is dutifully clapping the chalk erasers out of the window. She takes her time in wiping the desks down. When she is finished, they are alone the class representative has already asked Hakuba to lock the classroom.
Where do you get your book from? he asks suddenly. I ve seen your trick three times, and I still don t understand it.
It must be frustrating him dearly, she thinks, that he cannot explain this away logically. She smiles to herself.
It s not a trick, she says calmly. It s real magic.
That s absurd, he says, without missing a beat. The flatness of his intonation says it all: he is abundantly clear in his world view. There s no such thing as real magic.
Akako does not feel like arguing with him. She knows the true power of magic if he doesn t want to believe, then it is merely his loss.
Then you figure it out, she says. She walks away but she cannot resist a parting shot at the nonbeliever. Under her breath, she whispers an incantation, and she presses her fingers to the pentacle that rests on her breastbone.
A moment later, she vanishes from sight.
It is a simple invisibility spell, of course she would need a lot more preparation to really transport herself but it appears as though she is gone in less than a puff of smoke.
Akako sneaks one look back at Hakuba s expression. He is surprised, and puzzled, but absolutely determined. She likes that look, she decides, as she walks away.
--
How did you turn invisible yesterday?
She raises two plum-colored eyebrows artfully at him. How did you know I turned invisible?
The classroom door was open two centimeters wider that it had been, he says, his amber-colored eyes flickering toward the sliding door. And you have a promotional tissue packet in your bag that they began to hand out yesterday at the train station. His smile is calm, his gaze collected, speaking of all that is rational and easily intelligible.
Very good, meitantei, she says, quietly amused.
He doesn t mention that he first suspected when he had caught the lingering smell of tea leaves in the hallway.
He pauses. How did you do it?
Magic, she replies, with a smug, infuriating smile.
--
Hey, Koizumi, he greets her after school. There is a car waiting for him, but he is ignoring it for the moment.
Hakuba, she replies, with an acknowledging bob of her head.
He gives her another one of those stares with his unnervingly calm amber eyes the one that says that he is trying to figure something out. Will you show me how you turned invisible?
She meets his gaze with her own flame-eyed regard. And what will I get out of this? she asks.
Hakuba is momentarily taken aback. She allows him to think furiously for a moment. I ll tell you the probably identity of the Kaito Kid, he says quickly.
Akako laughs. The Kaito Kid? I already know who he is, she says.
She is rewarded by his shocked silence. He must be insanely jealous, she thinks, and he must wonder how she knows.
What do you want, then? he asks suddenly.
It is Akako s turn to be surprised. When has anybody ever asked her that question?
A kiss.
They are both surprised at her answer. Akako nearly sighs as he takes a step forward he is a little awkward, but his eyes are intense as they meet hers.
She is suddenly nervous, her stomach doing flips, and she laughs at him. It was just a joke, Hakuba, she says, her tone light. She doesn t think that she can manage anything else. I ll show you. You don t have to give me anything.
There is a strange look in his eyes, and he is frowning. Still, he nods, to say that he is ready.
Akako suddenly wants to do nothing more than turn invisible.
She speaks the words under her breath, and sets her hand against her breastbone. She can feel her heart pounding, sounding echoes throughout her chest.
And then she disappears.
--
Hakuba finds Koizumi Akako on his mind far too often lately. She is always there in the classroom, pentacle tucked into her school uniform, smelling faintly of tea leaves and candles.
He thinks of her while he watches Watson drift on thermals in the Tokyo skyline, and when he catches the kikyo flowers in bloom, and even worse on a case while he investigates behind beaded curtains to a room containing an English tarot set and crystal ball.
He never sees her summon her book anymore. She does not turn invisible in front of him. But he cannot forget her, just the same.
He can figure anything out, given enough time and evidence, by using logic. He can even figure out most of Kuroba Kaito s most fascinating tricks.
Akako seems immune to all logic. He cannot figure her out and that only serves to make her all the more fascinating.
--
Kuroba Kaito stares at her with his wide blue eyes only just peeking over his newspaper. It gets so unnerving that Akako demands that he spit it out.
Not that it s any of my business, he starts, and she thinks that he will make it his business anyways, but I thought that you didn t ensnare men anymore.
I don t, Akako says flatly, raising her eyebrows at him.
Oh, really? Kuroba asks her. He does not sound like he believes her.
Yes, Akako replies, wondering if she should ask Aoko to chase him around with the broom for awhile. It might make him a little less smug.
Then how do you explain why Hakuba can t seem to take his eyes off of you?
Akako feels her cheeks heat up. I didn t put a spell on him, if that s what your asking, she says, and she promptly turns around in her seat.
She ignores his other pointed questions, and instead stares at her math homework. It is all finished, and perfectly, too, but that is beside the point.
Still, she cannot stop the smile that creeps slowly across her face. Hakuba can t keep his eyes off of her, can he?
For some reason, she s fond of the idea.
--
That is a beautiful hawk, she says, looking up toward the blue sky. It is a chance meeting though perhaps not so chance. The weather is perfect for a visit to Haido Park.
Hakuba smiles. Yes, she is, he says. I call her Watson.
Holmes famous partner?
The grin he gives is self-deprecating. Is it pretentious of me?
Akako shakes her head. I doubt that there s a mystery that you couldn t solve, she says.
That s not true, he corrects her, and there is a detached, clinical quality to his voice. There s one problem
The Kaito Kid?
Hakuba laughs under his breath. No, he says. I ve pretty much got him figured out.
Akako is impressed in spite of herself. Then the problem-
That would be you, he says. His brown eyes are unreadable. I must confess, I don t understand you at all.
Akako shrugs her shoulders. I m just a girl who happens to know some dark magic.
Saguru frowns and his eyes are troubled. What is magic, anyways? How does it work? Why-
It s all around us, Akako replies. It s inside of us. It responds to different tools, to will, to intention-
That s not how it should work! he snaps suddenly, and Akako falls silent. Hakuba s fists are clenched, and there is true anger in his face. That s not logical at all-
Why is it with you and logic? she demands, suddenly affronted at his immediate dismissal. Maybe not everything has to be logical!
Because things have to make sense!
That is so cold, she says to him, a fire in her red eyes. Unless you can explain something, it s not real to you you have to grab it and take it apart before you ll even acknowledge that something like magic might exist!
I can t stop thinking about you, he says, honestly his amber eyes are bare of any safeguards. And I can t make any sense out of it.
Akako regards him quietly for a moment.
Does it need to make sense?
He scowls. It looks utterly petulant on his half-Caucasian features. I was hoping it would.
She smiles softly at him. Would you like to know what it feels like to turn invisible? she asks him.
He nods.
Come here, she says. He steps forward so close that the smell of tea leaves overwhelms him. He smells other things, too, like sage and sugar cookies and the persistent scent of melted wax.
Akako presses his hand over the silver pentacle that she keeps around her neck. It rests just above her heart. Hakuba can feel it beating, a steady thrum under his fingertips. Her hands drop, until they are resting against his stomach.
She begins to whisper the chant, and this time he can just make out the words of a foreign tongue. He looks downward, trying to catch her eyes with his, and his other hand makes its way to her slender neck as the pentacle grows hot beneath his hand.
And then they are both gone from the sight of the busy Tokyo park.
The taste on her lips reminds him insistently of good English tea.