Points to note: This is a DC and MK crossover. It's also my first DC or MK fic, so please kindly point out any OOCness and I'll work on it ^^

Question: In which cities do DC and MK take place? I've been searching for hours and I can't find out. So, I'm giving up and asking for help DX

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Detective Conan or Magic Kaito.

Misconnections

Chapter 1: Awakening Aid

Aoko Nakamori was the worst best friend anyone could possibly have. One could search all of Japan and they would not find anyone worse. Heck, one could search the entire world and they would still not find anyone worse than her.

Because a real best friend was always there. A real best friend was confident to every single deep, dark secret. A real best friend would notice that their friend was in trouble. A real best friend would not be so naively oblivious about everything until their best friend was nearly killed.

Okay, that was probably a tad overdramatic, but Aoko still felt liked the most stupid, idiotic, and lowest individual in the world.

How could she not have noticed something was wrong? All of the signs had been there; the random disappearances, the frequent lateness, the half-truths. She had been given all of the pieces of the puzzle. She had just needed to put them together. As the daughter of a police chief, it should have been easy for her to do so. But she hadn't even tried.

And Kaito hadn't said a thing.

Knowing him, he probably never would have said a thing. Kaito had always had a slight overprotective streak when it came to her. She couldn't even begin to count the number of times that he had tried to fight her battles for her as children. Not that she needed him to defend her, but Kaito had done it anyway. It had annoyed her then, and it sure as hell annoyed her now, but he had continued to protect her and keep secrets. Big secrets.

She couldn't claim to have been entirely oblivious to Katio's changing behavior though, she had noticed that he had been avoiding her more often than he did before, and that he often disappeared at night and refused to tell her where he was. But she had simply concluded that he had been doing boy things.

They were best friends, together since childhood, but they were still teenage boy and girl. Of course there would be some things that they would be too embarrassed to confide in each other. She sure would never choose to go to Kaito with girl issues, and she didn't expect him, or want him truthfully, to come to her with boy stuff. It stood to reason that there would gaps in their knowledge of each other.

But she had never expected there to be such a huge gap.

Aoko sighed and leaned back on her couch. The television was switched on to some news station, but she wasn't paying much attention to it. She'd only turned it on because the silence had been driving her, and her thoughts, crazy. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, replaying, for the umpteenth time, her visit to the Kuroba household just hours before.

It was hard to believe that one visit, one unannounced visit, to Kaito's house one normal Saturday morning changed everything.

But she was glad that she hadn't called ahead. Because if she had, she was willing to bet she would never have realized what was going on in her childhood friend's life. She would never have realized that someone was trying to kill him.

When she had burst into his room, without knocking, she had been excepting him to be fast asleep in bed, like how most normal teenage boys would be that early in the morning. She had been looking forward to shocking him awake; she had even brought her trustworthy mop with her to aid her with her noble deed. But, the last thing that she had excepted was to find him sitting, shirtless, in front of his mirror, trying to bandage his right shoulder. His right shoulder which bore an unmistakable bullet wound.

There had been no denying it; someone had shot her best friend, her Kaito.

He, of course, had tried to deny it, telling her that he had just injured himself practicing a new trick. But she was the daughter of a policeman who risked his life every time single day on the job. She knew what a bullet wound looked like; her father had been shot a few times, and she had taken care of him while he covered. The shape of the wound, the amount of dried blood, the position of the wound; everything told her clearly that it had been caused by a bullet.

And the scariest part was that if it had been just an inch lower or just an inch to the left, Kaito wouldn't be sitting there, trying to convince her nothing was wrong.

She could scarily believe that he had been alive then. Kaito had been so deathly pale as he stared at her with wide startled eyes that she had been sure he would faint any second now. But he hadn't given any indication of being in pain at all. If it weren't for the fact that she could see wound and his shallow skin, she would have thought that he was perfectly healthy. It was clear from the fact that he was still alive and moving, that someone, most likely a doctor, had already removed the bullet and treated the wound, but that fact that it was there and she had had no idea terrified her.

And it made her wonder about just how well she truly knew her friend. Not very well, she realized when one considered the fact that that she had been so unaware of the bullet wound.

The wound that Kaito had refused to tell her anything about. He had been forced to admit that he had been shot, but he refused to tell her why or how. She had even threatened to wallop him with her mop, and he still kept mute.

Which told her that she either needed to find a new method of intimidation, or Kaito was involved with something so dangerous that he wasn't going to risk letting her get any more involved than she already was. He hadn't even told a half lie or played a prank to get her off his back; that fact alone showed her the severity of his situation.

Kaito was in trouble. And she needed to do something about it.

But what?

She groaned and burrowed deeper into the sofa. There wasn't much that she could do, thanks to that stupid promise.

Once Kaito realized that there was no way that he could convince her that nothing was wrong, and that she was not going to pretend that she hadn't seen anything, he had sworn her to secrecy. She was not allowed to tell anyone, particularly not her father, about the wound. His mother knew, and now Aoko did, but no one else could. She had argued, and threatened, and refused, but in the end, she had agreed.

And regretted it ever since.

If only she hadn't promised, she would go to her father and have him set a guard twenty-four seven on Kaito. Or, better yet, find the people who'd shot Kaito and throw them in jail. But she couldn't.

Maybe Saguru Hakuba from class? He was detective right? Surely there was something that he could do to help. Unfortunately though, he fell under the 'don't tell' category. But there had to be some loophole, something that she could do.

"Don't tell your pops, or any of the police or detectives here."

There had to be something she could do. Something…But she couldn't think what.

Exasperated, she threw out a hand on the couch, accidently hitting the volume button of the remote. The volume shot up, the sudden shouting of some murder case startling her out of her thoughts. She fumbled for the remote for a moment before finally capturing it. She aimed it at the television, prepared to hit mute when a phase caught her attention.

"—ori, the greatest detective in all of Japan is here with us here today!" The blond reporter shouted before the screen switched to show a middle-aged, rather dim looking, man.

Curiosity piqued, Aoko lowered the volume to bearable level and continued listening.

"Oh, I wouldn't say greatest," the detective laughed modestly, while laughing loudly.

"Don't be so modest, Kogoro Mori-san" the reporter said smiling. "No one else has solved as many murder cases as you! Some that even baffled the police! You have every right to brag!"

"Well, can't argue with that," Mori agreed happily.

Aoko couldn't help but roll her eyes. That detective was anything but modest. He made her want to change the channel, but what the reporter had said kept to listening.

"Why don't you tell us how you solved the Fugukara murder?" The reporter asked eagerly.

As Aoko watched, Mori rubbed the back of his head and answered with a rather embarrassed laugh. "Well, you know, after each investigation, I have this irresistible need to sleep so…I really don't remember anything!"

"As expected of Sleeping Mori-san!" The reporter gushed.

Aoko's eyebrows shot up. This was the renowned Sleeping Mori? Her father had mentioned him several times to her before, and she's heard his name just about everywhere for the past several months. Though he really didn't look like it, Mori was a brilliant detective. A detective who lived in Tokyo.

The reporter was now listing the past accomplishments of Sleeping Mori, but Aoko was only listening with half an ear. Most of her attention was focused on the idea that was slowly forming in her mind.

Kaito was in trouble and he really needed help, but she had promised to not inform anyone in who was able to help. Anyone here. And technically, Kogoro Mori didn't live here. And the detective had solved every case that had come his way for the past several months, whether they were murder cases or not.

A smile worked its way to her lips as she reached a decision.

She needed to pay Sleeping Mori-san a visit.

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