Pocket Full of Trouble

CHAPTER 1: A WITCH'S CURSE

AN: Yes...I'm terrible at working through writer's block. So here, have a new story! I had come across a fanfic about tiny pocket sized Shinichi, and I thought, that's so cute, I should try my own version of it! So, here it is. Except with Kaito. Don't worry, I have full intentions of posting new chapters to my other stories soon, it's just that life has become too hectic and writer's block prevents me from even posting short chapters. This first chapter is one I've been working on for a few weeks now. Anyway, enough talking, on to the reading! (Also, check my profile for an update!)

Disclaimer: Well...I'm not Japanese, nor named Aoyama Gosho, so I guess I own neither Detective Conan nor Magic Kaito...

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Due to ...past instances, Kuroba Kaito had learned that if one Koizumi Akako attended one of his nighttime parties, it spelled DISASTER in big, flashing neon red letters. Particularly if said girl was wearing ceremonial getup that was hidden beneath a black cloak while she suspiciously scanned the private museum entrance for who knows what. One quick scan later, and Kaito very nearly cancelled the heist all together. One witch. One inspector. One shrunken slueth. One half-British detective. One Osakan with a cap. It was enough of a challenge that Kaito began to seriously consider the possibility that the cosmos must be laughing at his plight right now. However, the Kaitou Kid never backed down from a challenge. The wind was light - perfect for gliding short distances. He didn't need to go far. The moon was in its second quarter, the clouds were sparse - all in all, the perfect night for a heist. Even the swarming police below didn't distract from the mood.

"...two snipers southeast, eighty degrees, one sniper north, custom gun. Botchama, are you listening? I'm not sure this is a good idea! There's so many detectives and gunmen -"

"It's fine, Jii-chan," he whispered into the small earpiece, securing his stage wire tightly on a pipe in the ceiling. "It's not like the odds are so much more against me tonight than any other time; I've faced against worse and won several times before, don't worry so much!" Although, to be perfectly honest, Kaito himself was feeling just a bit nervous at the odds stacked against him. Mixed in with the blue uniformed officers and flashing red lights were not one, not two, but three detectives. Hakuba Saguru. Hattori Heiji. Edogawa "Kudo Shinichi" Conan. And there was Inspector Nakamori, Akako ...everything that spelled disaster for the thief all gathered in one place. Whatever the reasons, this was not a regular heist. However ...

"Please, botchama, be careful." He was the Kaitou Kid. He never ran away from a challenge.

"I will. Go home, Jii-chan. I can handle it from here." He flipped the earpiece off and removed it, a bright grin spreading across his face as he tossed three large brightly colored balls from a hidden pocket, catching them expertly between his fingers. "The show's about to start."

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Edogawa Conan ran up the stairs, cloth over his mouth and tips of white disappearing around every turn before him. At one point the elusive thief had happily ducked into an elevator and only went up one floor, cackling at Conan huffing up the stairs. Where Heiji had gone to, Conan had no idea, but he was too preoccupied to care. After a brief run-in with the ghostly thief about a month ago, there was no doubt in either mind as to the identity of the other, and while a kind of tentative trust had formed between them, it was shaky at best and not quite a friendship, but it was enough that Conan had fought every instinct to arrest the idiot when the sleeping gas had appeared and instead chased him up the stairs on a gut instinct that something was wrong, Hakuba Saguru hot on his heels with handcuffs at the ready. Conan didn't have enough breath or he would've laughed. Based on stories he'd read in the London Times, reporters had painted the cold shelled detective he knew as someone with a big heart. He wouldn't be arresting Kaito - not until, like Conan, he'd heard the thief's story and told his own.

But in order for anything to happen between them, Kaito had to be alive.

They burst onto the roof simultaneously, and Saguru was quick to catch the shining projectile aimed at his face like a missile. It was the Velvet Crow, the bulky half red, half blue sappire that had been discovered just less than a mere fifty years ago. It was gaudy, yes, but still extremely rare and expensive, and Saguru scowled halfheartedly at its rough treatment. At least it was wrapped in a silky white cloth. On the far side of the roof, Kid, in full red, white and blue regalia, prepared to leap off into the starry sky, customarily tipping his hat to them. He had to play the part of gentleman thief well, after all. The numerous snipers (headed by Snake, but only Kid knew that,) had been dealt with by another division, due to an annonymous call by the white clad thief himself. There shouldn't have been any issues. So, with Kaito poised to disappear, Conan and Saguru watching almost passively and the police on their way ...where had the speeding bullet tearing towards the thief at lightspeed come from?

"STOP!" Akako screeched, stomping forward from the top of the stairwell as an enraged spirit full of burning angry flames would. Time itself froze into a molten lava colored bubble around all three persons, the bright red orb trapping them in suspension. They, and the hidden sniper as well, were captive to whatever spell Akako had cast on them. However, their eyes were free, and they watched amazedly and curiously (and a touch fearfully) as Akako strolled, unaffected, straight up to Kaito. The bullet had stopped half an inch from entering Kaito's forehead, and with a furious scowl, Akako flicked it away. She softly cupped his cheek in her hand and whispered into his ear, inaudible to the detectives, and stepping back a few anticipation rattled minutes later, she sent them all an oddly sad, sorrowful look, raising her hand. Then all emotion was wiped from her face as she pressed two manicure tipped fingers together.

Snap.

Nakamori Ginzo and his men, arriving mere seconds later, found the rooftop empty.

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Kaito moaned. He felt tired. Too tired. He was cold. Too cold. After a heist, he was usually only a bit tired, enough to last until he got to school where he would nap, and quite warm from his down blankets. Wherever he was, it was different. Strange. Unnatural. He was sore, and stiff, and cold, and it was too much for his rattled brain to process. Eventually, after a lapse of about an hour of nothing but the quiet sound of a ceiling fan swirling lazily, he pried his tired eyes open, and stared blankly at the cream colored ceiling of a vaguely familiar room. He was too tired to try remembering where he'd seen it before - it certainly wasn't his, and it didn't exactly scream danger, so he felt safe, if uncomfortable. Raising a sore arm, he rubbed at his tired eyes, the room too bright. Something was nagging at him. He knew this room, and he must've damaged his vision during the heist, if he was interpreting everything as being so much bigger than it actually was.

There was a mixture of blond and cream and dark maroon making up and obscuring his blurry vision, and once his eyes cleared, he almost wished he was still asleep. Passed out. Unconscious. Whatever. So long as he didn't have to be blinking stupidly up at Hakuba Saguru's worried face, looming over him in his still slightly swimming gaze. He disliked not knowing what was going on, and not being in control of a situation with a detective was a huge no-no.

"K - Kuroba? Are you all right?" Kaito frowned, feeling very grumpy. Of course he was all right! Why shouldn't he be? These weird side affects of whatever Akako did to him would wear off soon enough. And then his eyes widened. Kuroba? Where was his monocle? In fact, where was his whole suit? Maybe they'd suspiciously (preferably) gone missing before Hakuba found him? He only hoped that was the case. Instead of the comfortable silk of the Kaitou Kid outfit, he was in some strange dark blue cloth that kind of resembled a sweater and sweatpants (it was hard to tell - besides, this was Hakuba, he was already weird in Kaito's opinion) and he was lying on the couch, under a thick beige blanket that itched.

"I'm fine, you stupid nerd. What happened? And where am I?" He really, really didn't like not knowing. Playing innocent was his only way to find out before he started panicking. To his horror, Hakuba silently reached towards him, his hand growing bigger and bigger like a nightmareish being and gripped the front of his unfamiliar sweater, effortlessly lifting him high into the air. It was as if Hakuba and his house had suddenly become giant, and Kaito was a mouse at his mercy. He was helplessly dangling several feet off the ground, and staring up at large cinnamon eyes that seemed so much bigger than before, Kaito only let out a pathetic whimper. Usually when he had a nightmare it was easy to wake up if he started making sounds, jolting himself awake, but nothing was happening. Except that he suffered a sudden rush of nauseous loss of equalibrium as Hakuba started walking; towards the bathroom, it seemed. Kaito whined like a distressed dove. Was he planning to flush him so he'd get eaten by a sewer monster? It wouldn't be that different than a few of his other nightmares.

Hakuba didn't drop him into the tiolet, thank goodness. He simply set him on the sink rim, pointing to the mirror. What Kaito saw didn't change much - so he was about six inches tall instead of six feet. He'd dreamed stranger. He purposely did not start thinking of the dreams involving Akako - those were a little too realistic for his tastes.

"Look, if I'm not going to wake up, I'd rather have some hot chocolate at a Tropical Land with Aoko and kaa-san instead of staring at a mirror with this dull detective," he stated, fully expecting that the thought of some warm steaming cocoa would drastically change the scene. But nothing changed. At all. The mirror still stood, and he still looked so small and helpless that he wanted to stop looking. But he couldn't. His vision was perectly crystal clear at this point. Weren't dreams supposed to be ...fuzzy? Indistinct? Kind of hard to see the lines straight and clear? Hakuba sighed and lightly flicked the back of his head with one finger. He DEFINITELY felt that; it knocked him right to his rear, and as comprehension dawned, Hakuba started talking.

"Gomen, Kuroba, but you're not dreaming. Koizumi-san did something on the roof of that museum and you just ...shrunk." Kaito blinked. That ...actually explained a lot. He felt himself all over. Akako had a habit of doing more damage than good, even when she had the best of intentions. Nothing different. Same black hair that rufled every which way. Same dark blue eyes. Same ten fingers and toes. He was just smaller. He glanced up at Hakuba. The blond seemed like he was expecting something. Well, Kaito was a performer, and it wasn't in his nature to disappoint. So, very slowly in case his little lungs burst, he drew in a deep, deliberate breath.

"AKAKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

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And there you have it, the prologue chapter of this new story! It's short, but if you like it, I'll keep posting. Please review if you enjoyed it, and don't forget to check my profile for that update!

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