Summary: Shinichi is a telepath seeking revenge after Ran lands in a coma. The culprit is the one man whose mind he cannot read: Kaitou KID. And Kaito is struggling with the guilt in the aftermath and the moral and ethical implications of his choices of picking up his father's mantle. However, things don't always tend to be what they seem. Eventually kaishin, Kaito x Shinichi / Shinichi x Kaito.

I started writing this story over half a year ago, but life and lethargy blocked the time and motivation to put words on paper. This story is for Addy01, who picked two plots from a list of story ideas I had written. I couldn't have written this story without the support and patience from my friends (patience needed as I tend to talk too much about boring subjects and they are saints for bearing with me). Unlike my previous long-stories, this one is not completed, so far 8 chapters are finished and will be published once they are done being betaed.

Special thanks for Addy01 for betaing, Johnny for always listening, Zaki for being my muse and helping me whenever I'm stuck (and for not allowing me to blow things up without hours of research and discussions), and Crie, Duv and Lulu for helping to come up with a suitable title. Well. Mostly Crie.

Warning for; mild mature content

Wordcount: 7,4K

Published 27.07.2017

Chapter 1

...

Ever since Shinichi was little, everyone around him had speculated whether he could read their minds.

It had started when his kindergarten teacher, who was suffering from a serious bout of alcoholism at the time, had been cleaning up the mess left behind by two of her charges' impulsive food fight. She had let out a deep sigh as she glanced in the direction of her private office with a wistful expression. Suddenly, five-year-old Kudou Shinichi had yanked her sleeve.

"You really should not be drinking while working," the boy had said sternly. Her heart leapt to her throat and palpitated in horror. No one had known of her little addiction, not her colleagues, her family, not even her husband. So how had the boy known this fact?

She promptly stopped drinking from that day forth.

That would not be the last time Shinichi had displayed signs that he knew what people were thinking, whether they were lying or what they were feeling. Rumours started to spread, and no one did anything to hinder them. It really did help the boy when he stumbled over dead bodies and was allowed to join the investigations. His swift and accurate deliveries only fuelled the rumours of him being a telepath.

To be honest, Shinichi was not entirely sure if he could actually read minds. Either he could, or he was suffering from auditory hallucinations caused by having a highly developed and astute observation skills from an early age, and the information he unconsciously picked up was supplied in a way only he could comprehend – or he was crazy. His many shrinks had not been able to come to a conclusion on that topic.

Shinichi did not particularly find his abilities odd or special – he had always been able to pick up what other people were thinking. He imagined it to be no different than someone who was born with synaesthesia or perhaps colour blindness for that matter. To him, it was actually difficult to comprehend how other people could not see what he could.

The detective let his eyes wander across the alley. Only the blinking street-lights at the end of the alley barely illuminated the area. A yellow and black police-tape divided the curious bystanders from the police and forensics scouring over the dead body. The deceased was a woman in her late thirties, with short, brown hair. Her modest make-up had long since been ruined – most likely from the drizzling rain that had not stopped once since yesterday morning. Hopefully the rain had not washed away any crucial DNA evidence.

"Kudou-kun?"

Shinichi turned around to glance at Takagi. The inspector wore a thick, blue raincoat, with a yellow waterproof cap that cut through the darkness with its brightness. His shoulders were slightly tensed, and his lips quirked downwards in an expression that clearly read: 'I just want all of this to be over so I can change into dry clothing –

Shinichi full-heartedly agreed with that statement, and had parted his lips to comment on it, only to freeze and lowered his eyes as Takagi's thoughts started to circle around to an image of Sato and him on a rug in front of the fire place. The consultant did not even flush – long since used to people with their inappropriate thoughts.

"You might want to ask the woman in question out before you start dreaming about domestic dates at a cabin, Takagi-Keiji," Shinichi commented drily, and perhaps a little unkindly as Takagi blushed red with clear panic flashing in his eyes. The bad weather had been messing with everyone's mood.

"I – sorry – I don't – I didn't –" the inspector stuttered out incomprehensible, all colour draining from his face as he cast nervous glances above his shoulder. "Sorry – I – that is – I don't – you –," he continued, not looking as though he would stop being unintelligible for a while longer.

Shinichi took pity on him, and reached out to pat his shoulder with a quick, calming gesture. "It's not my concern what happens behind the curtains of a police investigation. Your secret is safe with me. It's not my place to get involved with your love life. Now, what can I do for you?"

The investigator stared at him for a few, silent moments. The tight lines around his eyes subsided in relief, his eyes conveying: 'Kudou-kun is a really kind person, thank god he doesn't use his abilities for mischief or law breaking. I need to be more careful with my thoughts around him, or he could accidentally pick up something he shouldn't.'

Shinichi pretended he did not read that, and just kept a bland smile curling on his lips as he patiently waited for Takagi's reply.

"You – erh –," Takagi cleared his throat and smoothed his expression as he turned back to his role as an officer of the law to hide his unease. "Have you picked up anything from the crowd yet? Anything in regards to the murder?"

Looking away from him, the consultant let his eyes roam across the civilians crowding the police tape. The thing about his mind reading ability, he could only pick out the surface thoughts from people's body language. Sometimes they came in the form of vivid images, sometimes thoughts, other times just as a general emotion. Most of the time, however, he needed to look at the person in order to read them.

"I need a ten-thousand yen-note," he responded after a short moment of thought.

Although Takagi looked confused at the request, but did not hesitate as he fished out his wallet from his pocket. A second later, he handed Shinichi the money.

Shinichi accepted it with a short, gratuitous smile, before he turned and walked towards the crowd of onlookers behind the police tape. He propped the collar of the raincoat he was wearing up to protect against the cold drizzle. "Excuse me, I have a 10,000 yen here" He waved the bill in the air, showing it to the messes. "Whoever has any information regarding the murder, please come forward to accept this reward."

Unsurprisingly, almost everyone raised their hands. Behind him, he could hear Takagi choke in surprise. He did not need to see the officer's face to know exactly what the man was thinking, and Shinichi suppressed the urge to curl his lips in amusement. He kept his bland and polite smile as his eyes searched the crowd for any shred of a clue for him to latch on.

There was a couple waving their hands who glanced at each other with an excited anticipated: 'money for our 'new couch fund!''. A teen around fifteen or sixteen, with dark eyeliner circling his eyes and a red and blue mohawk, wore a quirk of his lips that clearly indicated his resolve to buy drugs with the cash – and Shinichi's nose crunched upwards in disgust, making a mental note to do something about that issue later. An elderly man looked anxious as he stretched his hand out the highest. There was a wistful quiver around his mouth – he knew he had nothing to say, but he could really need the money to buy his grandson a proper birthday present. He could not afford much with the pitiful pension he had been robbed to accept by greedy CO's when he lost his job at a factory.

Shinichi's heart trembled for a moment as the old man's thoughts leached into his mind, and he had to swallow the anger that bubbled in his chest in response. Some people would do anything just to earn some extra money – even robbing the already poor. Without glancing at Takagi, he waved the man forward.

The old man froze for a second, his eyes hazed with indecision, suddenly feeling guilty, the wistful yearning for the cash disappeared from his face as reality set in. He propped the tip of his flat cap down into his face, before ducking under the tape. He wobbled forward – likely that he had damaged his foot years ago as the limp was not recent. He removed his hat and fumbled with it as he lowered his gaze in shame. "Apologize. I don't actually have any information. I'll take any fines for obstructing the police without complaint."

Takagi looked as though he did not know what to do, as he glanced between the consultant and the old man. The detective's eyes flashed for a moment in indecision – wondering if Shinichi was up to something, or if the telepath had made a mistake.

Shinichi ignored the confused expression on Takagi's face as he grabbed the old man's hand and turned the palm up. "I'm well aware of that fact." With a sympathetic expression and soft-spoken words, he placed the 10,000-yen bill in the palm and curled the pensioner's fingers around it – shock and surprise flickered across his face as he stared at the consultant. "Buy your grandson those car toys he has always wanted."

Shinichi stepped back and lean towards Takagi and spoke with a low voice. "You see the man with the red cap in the crowd? Mid-twenties, black hair, a mole on his chin? He knows something about the murder."

The inspector glanced in the direction of the person Shinichi described automatically, his mouth popped open in surprise and he looked to have been rooted to his spot.

With a sigh, the consultant rubbed his nose as he explained. "That young man was one of the few who did not try to claim the reward – very few would decline an opportunity to earn 10,000 yen. When I called the old man over, he was the only one who relaxed visibly."

Takagi did not need any more explanations, as his lips narrowed and he strolled towards the man. "You there, I need to speak with you –" the order was barely voiced, before the suspect flinched backwards and started to flee. The officer followed immediately – having anticipated his next movement from the tension of his legs.

In the meantime, the pensioner grabbed Shinichi's arm. "I really can't take this money –"

"Keep it," the detective responded without glancing in the old man's direction, his gaze flued to the figures of several officers chasing after the suspect – the man was surprisingly fast. However the chase came to an abrupt stop as Chiba intercepted the fleeing young man. The suspect, who had been looking behind him and not kept an eye on what was in the front, went tumbling into the junior inspector. The two fell into a heap across the concrete.

"No, really. I can't –"

With a sigh, Shinichi turned to face the old man with a kind smile. "Honestly, you earned it. You did help with the investigation. So as promised, that's your reward."

He did not look appeased, but he dropped his hand and gave a hesitant nod and a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Shinichi smiled as he watched the retiree returned back behind the police tape. Sometimes he loathed his abilities – everything he saw, read and understood from reading minds was a curse more than anything. It could be such an oppressive thing at times, showing him both the cruellest and saddest part of humanity. He wished he could do more to help the grandfather who only wanted to make his grandson happy.

Sometimes, he really hated all of this.

Suddenly, he felt a shiver run down his spine, and for a moment everything froze as his breath hitched in his throat. He could feel the cold, hard gaze of someone spying on him, and the feeling only lasted for a mere moment as he turned around to try to spot the person from the crowd, however the mass of people made it impossible for him to distinguish anyone. He was left feeling colder than before, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him.

"No."

There was nothing but the sound of stirring of porcelain cups filling the silence of the room. The sun filtered into the room through the half-open window, and the soft breeze made the ivory curtains flutter softly in the wind. There was a soft electric hum from the lamp overhead.

Sonoko frowned from the yellow armchair she was sitting in. Her legs were crossed, and she wore a simple yet elegant blue dress that did not even cover her kneecaps. She pursed her lips as she scowled at the detective sitting in the opposite chair – exact in every way except that this one was in a pale blue colour. "I haven't asked you anything yet."

"You didn't have to," Shinichi did not miss a beat as he responded, only picking up his tea and took a sip of the warm, bitter, herbal liquid. There was, honestly, only one reason why Sonoko would ever show up on his doorstep, uninvited.

Ran had not met his gaze since she stepped into the house, and her hands fluttered in nervousness and hesitation. Every few minutes her eyes would dart in the direction of the heiress, and her lips twitched downwards in clear distress. She definitely did not want to be here.

"I'll pay you –" Sonoko tried again.

His nose cringed up in displeasure, and he put the cup back on the table. "Those rates that I'm sure you're willing to part are only for the pompous gentry who thinks it's posh and the in-thing to hire a telepath to fix their problems. Just so that they can brag about their ties to supernatural forces. I don't fancy taking those jobs, and my contract clearly states I can choose my clients," he said through clenched teeth, his hackles rising as he went on the defensive. He would never accept money from any of his friends, and the fact that Sonoko was trying to buy his services gave him an ashy taste in his mouth.

"Sonoko," Ran finally spoke, and she shifted position in her chair. He could clearly read Ran's unease, and there was a clear quiver over her eyelids that read something akin to: 'I'm sorry, Shinichi. I know you are not comfortable with this, but you know how stubborn Sonoko becomes once she gets an idea in her head.

The detective lowered his eyes for a moment, his heart fluttering in his chest. Out of everyone he knew, Ran was the only one who never minded the fact he always knew what was on her mind. He could read her easier than anyone – it had been a major help in the past. He had been able to save her life a few times because of it.

He did not blame her for today's predicament; he knew Sonoko far too well.

"I don't know why he won't help," the heiress spoke icily through clenched teeth, clearly unhappy and disappointed by the outcome. "It's an easy task. Put him in a room, and then just pick KID-sama from the crowd. A win – win situation."

Shinichi suppressed the urge to purse his lips in displeasure at the fact that Sonoko spoke as though he was not in the room. From the tone of voice, he could tell the two girls had had this discussion before – they all had had the exact same conversation every time a new heist-note was delivered to the police.

He would dutifully crack the riddle or code when requested, but had personally only been to three heists since Kaitou KID, the elusive phantom thief, started pilfering jewels two years ago.

Personally, he had no interest in thieves. Shinichi was a homicide detective, and he had no desire to chase after an adrenaline-seeking junkie of a thief who always returned what he stole. Either Kaitou KID was searching for something important, or he was just another fool looking for an adventure that would sooner or later land him in jail.

However, there was another reason for his reluctance in joining the heists other than his disinterest. He could not read Kaitou KID's intentions, or thoughts or feelings – his mind was completely closed off to the detective, something which had never happened to him before. The first few times it happened, Shinichi thought that it had been a fluke – maybe the thief just did not have a thought going through his mind the moment Shinichi tried to read his mind? – but after the third heist, he had reluctantly admitted to himself that he could not pick up anything from the phantom thief.

It was unnerving.

And it had slightly freaked him out – the possibility of making a mistake because he had not been able to rely on his abilities to confirm his deductions. Thankfully, so far he had not made any mistakes, he had still been able to pick up the clues to intercept the moonlight magician, but the thief's thoughts were impossible to read – when Shinichi had actively tried to. Usually, he hardly ever needed to make an effort, but in this instance it was no use even when he tried.

And the third reason – or at least the one he told himself was the most important part, and the only one he ever told anyone inquiring when approached– was the fact his gift was not useful in a crowded area. There are far too many minds and faces to read; far too much information to soak up. It made it difficult to get a good read on anyone, let alone pinpointing the origin of the thought. So he tried to stay away from such occurrences in case he made a mistake. As a detective, he could not afford to make errors – and he had no intention of framing the wrong person. It would ruin his reputation.

"Just drop it, Sonoko. I told you Shinichi doesn't like crowded places," Ran spoke with a soft, yet stern tone, that left the heiress to do nothing but purse her lips in displeasure.

'It was worth a shot. But I don't get it why he has to be so difficult. Telepathy is wasted on such a stick in the mud. I know what I'd do with such an ability –'

"It would be a horrifying sight, Sonoko," Shinichi replied drily, picking up his cup again and feeling the warmth of the cup scorching his fingertips in a familiar comfort. "Perish the thought."

Sonoko flushed darkly as she realized he had read her mind, and her eyelids batted a few times in embarrassment, and mumbled something incoherent into her cup.

Ran flashed Shinichi an apologetic smile.

The sound of chanting filled his ears even from the balcony he was crouching on. He could practically feel the life and energy of the city below, and it filled him with anticipation and giddiness. Sometimes, it felt as though half the reason he did this was purely for his audience.

Kuroba Kaito loved the freedom of being the infamous jewel thief Kaitou KID. He loved the riddles, the chase, playing with the police and making Hakuba Saguru pull his hair in frustration.

He pulled out a pair of binoculars, aiming it at the building in front of him, where the target of today's heists was located at. He spied into the fourth floor, where he spotted the restless figures of Nakamori Ginzo and the members of the KID Task Force moving around. Hakuba was nowhere to be seen, though Kaito knew that the English detective would be in there somewhere.

He glanced at his wristwatch, there was only twenty minutes left till the heist was due to start. "Jii-chan, is the window still clear?" He held his breath as he waited for an answer from the elderly magician. The point of entry was the third window on the fourth floor, where he could easy access the necklace, which was placed on a pedestal situated right beside that window.

"Negative," Jii-chan's voice crackled through the earpiece he was wearing, "Hakuba-san is currently inspecting the fake latches we implanted." There was a second of silence. Kaito suspected the assistant moved away in order to not draw any attention to himself from the detective. "I recommend switching to plan B, Botchama."

Kaito automatically gave a short nod in response even though Jii-chan could not see him, not bothering to vocalizing his agreement. He knew that there was always a possibility that any part of his plans could be hindered and discovered – Hakuba was a worthy, albeit tedious, adversary. He had, however, never been close to capturing Kaitou KID. The last person closest to accomplishing that feat was when another teen detective who had been on his case, over a year ago. Kaito had, unfortunately, never caught his name, and Hakuba had been less than willing to share that little bit of information.

Kaito's mind flashed back to the memory of sharp, intelligent eyes that had seemed to be able to look straight through him, right after the detective shot at him from above, half hanging out of a helicopter at the clock-tower heist.

Now, that had been a thrilling and exhilarating heist.

"Move into the new position and make sure Hakuba is occupied at the west-entry. We are t-minus seventeen minutes." He put the binoculars back into his pocket and turned back into the room behind him. He was cutting it short on time, but arriving a few seconds later than scheduled would aggravate the British detective, and that was always a plus. Kaito sometimes suspected he existed simply to get on Hakuba's nerve – the Half-Brit certainly had firm opinions on the subject.

The magician picked up a bag that was sitting on the table in the sparsely furnished room: it was filled with spare clothing, a few masks, gas bombs, an extra pair of grappling hook. Even if he could not use the window as entry point, he could use it as a possible exist. It all depended on the position of the police and Hakuba once the action started.

"Kaito-botchama."

Kaito froze as Jii-chan's voice filled his ears once more. There was a hint of concern in his voice that had his shoulders tensing in anticipation or dread – Kaito could not tell which, however.

"The alarm previously connected to the north-entry back door has been cut. We might –" the elderly magician's swallowed audibly, a sound that created static through the radio-piece. "We might have company."

Kaito clenched his teeth at that piece of information, his mind racing with the possibilities of what the discovery could mean for them. If it was Snake or anyone of his associates, it could be dangerous for him to venture into the crowded museum. Surely the assassins were not bold enough to attack him in the middle of a crowded area? Should he postpone the heist just to make sure no one would be caught in the crossfire?

He glanced at his clock, they only had fifteen minutes left. There was no time to reconsider his plans, not unless he decided to wing it. "We can't cancel the heist, it would draw unwanted attention. I saw we go ahead as planned, but I'll just be in and out as fast as I can."

He felt, more than heard, Jii-chan's wish to object to the idea. However, he knew his assistant would follow his plan without complaint.

"Keep an eye out and report any suspicious behaviour immediately. Get into position," he did not bother ending the call. He did not have time, seeing as he was already behind schedule. He dropped his jacket and picked up a light bullet vest he had stashed in the bag – better safe than sorry if he was going up against Snake and the Syndicate. Staying alive was worth the loss of flexibility wearing the vest would bring.

Grabbing what he dared to carry, he left the room – it would remain unoccupied by the owners for another few days, plenty of time for him to come back and comb through the room for any evidence he might have accidentally left behind. However, just in case, he had stashed the bag in the corner wardrobe, far away from immediate scrutiny.

He had reached the seventh floor of the building, when he felt his mobile phone buzzing. Hesitating, he glanced at the screen, and swallowed once he noticed Aoko's name. She would either be worried or angry if he did not answer it. With a defeated sight, he accepted the call.

"What do you want, Ahoko. I'm busy."

As expected, there was a short, displeased noise coming from the receiving end as his childhood friend bristled in vexation. "This is what I get for being worried and checking in on you when you are sick."

He had not bat an eye when he told her that easy lie hours earlier when she came around to invite him to go to the museum with her. He hated lying to her, but it was necessary and for the greater good. He would not risk getting her into any sort of danger, especially not by being too close to him. "Why don't you just give up on this Kaitou KID nonsense and go home, Aoko," he masked the concern in his voice – if Snake was really here today, he did not want her anywhere near the heist. He knew, however, that it was a lost cause.

"Like hell I will. I'm here to support my dad and Hakuba-kun. I want to personally see with my own eyes Kaitou KID being apprehended. I have a good feeling about today."

"As if," Kaito responded dutifully to fit into his persona as a KID-supporter. "KID-sama will never be caught!" He started moving forwards to a rope he had prepared earlier in the day, hoping Aoko would end the call soon.

She made another unhappy noise, but did not push the subject, seeing as it was a familiar dance of disagreement between them. "I was at your place earlier before I left, but no one answered the door. Did you see the pot with home-made soup I dropped off on your porch?"

Kaito's heart both quivered in gratitude and in pain at her words – he felt guilty for always lying to her when she was always so kind to him. He lowered his eyes, despite not having anyone scrutinizing his expression. If anyone saw him right now, he was unsure what would be revealed in his expression. "No, I'll –" he swallowed thickly. "I'll get it right now. Thanks Aoko, but you really shouldn't worry so much –"

"Bakaito," she cut him off sharply, but her voice turned softer as she continued to speak. "I always worry about you, alone in that big house, no social or survivability skills. You'd be lost without me, and you know it."

The magician had climbed up on the railing of the balcony as she spoke, and was now leaning down to hook his belt to the harness on the rope that stretched between the two buildings. He curled his lips again, and he felt warmth spread through his chest at her both worried and teasing tone of voice. Aoko never changed, and he would not have her any other way.

"Agreed, so you better not go anywhere."

His affirmation was met with a stunned silence – she had clearly expected a childish rebuke. His eyes darted down the watch on his wrist, he had only eight minutes left. "I have to go Aoko, my phone is running out of batteries, but I'll call you later once I've charged it, yeah?"

"You better," she groused out in response, however there was a tone of affection in her voice as clear as day. "Feel better, Kaito."

He ended the call with a promise and switch it off immediately – he could not afford anyone trying to contact him mid-heist. Once that was done, he immediately jumped from the railing. For a second, he was in free-fall before the cable went taut and caught his weight. He bounced up and down a few times as gravity tried to force him downwards, but the rope held him in place. After double checking the straps, he activated the button that would spurn him forward towards the other building.

Meters underneath him, he could hear the crowd again. This time, they were chanting his name, and he felt a satisfied smile curling on his lips. If anyone looked up, no one would notice the black figure sailing through the air. The adjacent building was coming up fast, and he kicked his feet forwards in order to brace the impact of the wall. He hit the concrete structure harder than intended – even with the mechanism slowing down his speed in the last few meters – and for a moment he lost his breath as he dangled several storeys from the ground.

Kaito shook it off quickly however, and he spared no time unbuckling the harness and dropped to the balcony below. He grabbed the end of the rope and started to pull it towards him quickly. With a well-placed shot from his card gun, the end of the rope attached to the apartment-building he had swung from unveiled and would have fallen to the ground had Kaito not already dragged most of it onto the balcony. He quickly finished the task and stashed the rope behind a pot of flowers.

The thief checked the time again, there was only five minutes left – he was really cutting it close, but he should get there on time. With that in mind, he stepped through the door that he had picked hours early. He made way to the stairs on his left after checking the corridor for any sign of life. He was in luck: it was empty. Most guards usually gave up looking for his entry at this point in the heist and would simply wait to catch him in the jewel room.

Kaito did not let his eyes settle on the priceless and centuries-old paintings covering the walls as he passed them. The stilled coldness of the room tasted like a mixture of old parchment and chemicals from cleaning equipment. It was colder inside the building than it was outside – it was necessary to keep the temperature between fifteen and seventeen degrees Celsius for better reservation of the paintings.

It also had the added bonus of discouraging anyone from smoking – if anyone had been stupid enough to be inclined to do so in a museum.

Reaching the fifth floor, he excited the stairways and pushed the door open to the gallery. Just beneath his feet in the floor below, he could almost feel the excitement of the crowd, and if he was quiet enough he swore he could hear the buzz of voices. He checked the time again, he had less than two minutes to go.

"Jii-chan, are you in position?" he whispered into his com. He was taking light but fast steps as he ran down the corridor.

"Yes, Bocchama. I'm ready at your signal –"

"Shhhh," Kaito hissed as he rounded a corner and had to backtrack quickly before he could be discovered by a guard walking down the hallway. His heart pounded in his chest with adrenaline soaring through his veins. He felt like berating himself for his carelessness, he was becoming too cocky for thinking that there would not be any officer's guarding the floors just because he had not encountered anyone on his way down.

He took a deep breath before taking a peek around the corner again. A light-brown-haired police woman was in the end of the corridor. She had his back towards him, and from the tension on her shoulders, she must be feeling nervous and slightly concerned. It did not matter to him though, he had already several contingency plans in place for the possibility of such a hindrance to occur.

Ducking back to the safety of his hiding place, he started searching through his pocket for a device to distract the guard. He was, however, interrupted in his search when a voice called from the other corridor that made Kaito freeze with a swear on his lips.

"Ha-hakuba-san" stuttered the female officer, and the thief could practically hear the blush blossoming on her cheeks.

"Evening Uehara-san, have you seen anything suspicious?" asked Hakuba Saguru with an arrogant tone of voice – or at least that was how Kaito decided to interpret it.

"Not yet, it seems deserted for now. Maybe you were wrong and Kaitou KID isn't going to enter through the –" she cut herself off abruptly, but whether it was because the detective had made a hand sign or for some other reason, the magician could not tell from his hiding spot.

"Perhaps you are right," Hakuba responded after a few moments, and the sound of clicking echoed through the room, the detective was probably looking at his pocket watch. "There is less than a minute left, I better make my way to the chamber or I will be late. Keep up the good work, Uehara-san, and send my regards to your mother. I hope she gets better soon."

The detective's words slowly drowned out as he started to walk away, and only the stuttering thank you from the police woman followed his track.

Kaito had wasted precious seconds waiting for Hakuba to get out of earshot. He dropped his hands from his inner-pocket, and peeked around the corner once more to observe Uehara stare after Hakuba with a wistful expression. He held his breath for a moment, before calling out, deepening his voice to match that of the half-Brit.

"Could you check that room over there facing north-west? The door has a broken lock."

The police woman froze for a moment, however Kaito's ploy had worked as she immediately agreed without considering whether or not the distance between them was audibly possible. She left immediately, and the corridor was now clear.

The magician breathed in relief that it worked – had it not been for Hakuba's previous presence, he would have tried scaring her away with a toy-mouse as a last resort. He started down the hallway when he heard Jii-chan speaking in his com once more.

"Is everything alright, Bocchama? The time is –"

Kaito checked the time and was dismayed to see that he was already five seconds passed the start of his heist. He had to hurry or he would let down his fans. "Activate the gas-bombs, I'll be there shortly."

The thief did not hear the affirmation as he finally reached the door. He only spent two seconds picking the lock – they had decided to leave it bolted lest it drew unwanted attention. He slipped through the door and closed it behind him. Looking around, he made sure not to step on any of the equipment in the broom closet as he headed into the back of the room – there was a hatched on the floor leading down to the chandelier hanging over the room below.

He crouched and grabbed the hitches, pulling it upwards towards him before pushing it away from the hole. He only got a glimpse into the room underneath – and he vaguely registered the white smoke that Jii-chan had activated filling the room – before there was a loud noise that popped his ears painfully. In that same instant, he felt the floor shaking beneath him as the room vibrated and he was hit by a wave of scorching heat that beat into his unprotected skin. Kaito automatically reeled back from the pressure accommodating the change in temperature. He stumbled as his heel hit the hatched and he tripped a moment later, hitting the ground with what would have been a hollow thump if his hearing had been working properly.

Kaito swallowed thickly, feeling as though he was in a daze – his mouth was dry like sand and there was a lingering ringing in his ears. Smoke filled his nostrils as he accidentally breathed deeply. He tried to sit up, but faltered for a moment as his whole body shook from the shock. His heart was hammering against his chest as adrenaline pumped into his blood, and broken thoughts swirled around in his head – what had just happened?

Finally managing to sit up, he crawled towards the opening in the floor to peer down. The sight that met him left his heart jumping to his throat as terror shook down his spine. The room was a mess: thick, black smoke filtered through the white gas Jii-chan had released earlier. The only light flashing through the haze was from the fire that had started in a corner. He could also see what looked like figures of people scattered on the ground through the smoke.

Without thinking, Kaito grabbed a gas mask he had hidden underneath his clothing, slipped it on, and dropped through the hole. He landed heavily on the floor, but his legs held him steady. His hearing had started to come back – he wished it had not a moment later, as he could her the groans and pitiful wailings of distress and pain. His heart seized again in fear and anguish for them.

There had been an explosion – and Aoko – Aoko was down here somewhere. He stumbled as the realization hit him, and his eyes wandered through the room with renewed terror as he was rooted to the floor. If it was not for the heist, - his heist! - none of the people in the room would have been in harm's way. However, for that moment, his thoughts quickly reverted back to the fear-inducing awareness that somewhere, Aoko might be laying hurt and bleeding and possibly dying.

Kaito stumbled in a panic towards the closest person with a close resemblance, mumbling her name underneath his breath, checking if it was really her. Aoko, Aoko, please be safe, please. The whole reason he hid his night-time persona from her was so she would not get hurt – he could not live with himself if she got hurt. It was not supposed to be like this, his heists were supposed to just be fun and games. No one should have been hurt.

It was all his damn fault.

He grabbed the woman's shoulder and gently turned her around. Her whimpers drowned out the sounds from the rest of the room, and he instinctively reached out to extinguish the small flame flickering across her clothing before he pressed against the bleeding wound. It took him a moment to realize the woman was not Aoko, and he pulled out a colourful scarf – he did not have time to properly distinguish the colour through the thick smoke as he pressed the scarf around her wound to stop the bleeding.

Once he finished wrapping the fabric, he made to move away to search for Aoko anew, but did not get far as an arm suddenly reached out to grab the corners of his white jacket. He turned back to look at the source. With blood seeping from a wound above her brows, the woman stared at him, utterly petrified.

"Don't leave me – please, don't leave," her voice was barely above a whisper, and Kaito felt guilt filling him to a brim. He sunk to his knees, they shook too much to keep his weight as he grabbed her hand when she started to cough violently.

"Hang on – just hang on a little while longer. Help is on its way, I promise," his voice trembling as he tried to keep it steady and reassuring, despite the panic bubbling in his chest. The woman kept staring at him for a moment longer, breath rasping and chest heaving from pain. Suddenly, her eyes rolled backwards and the grip that once had grabbed him tightly laxed as the arm fell back on top of her.

Swallowing, Kaito reached out to check her pulse, praying that she was still alive, uncertain what to do if she was not. He sighed in relief as he felt a irregular yet strong pulse thus against his two fingers as he leaned back on his heel. He raked his fingers through his hair as he gulped down a pocket of air, where was Aoko? Please be alright Aoko, you have to be.

Only later, did he realize he had lost his top-hat in the blast, but the thought did not even deter him, far too preoccupied with the numbness of fear. The place looked like a nightmarish battlefield with smoke and fire and the smell of blood and burning flesh. It was a vision that would forever be stuck in his mind. Unforgettable.

"Kuroba!"

A voice echoed through the room. He froze immediately as he recognized the voice. His throat hitched and he slowly turned to face the direction of the voice. Through the swirling smoke, he could vaguely see a figure approaching him. A few seconds passed, before he finally managed to distinguish the familiar form of Hakuba Saguru.

Hakuba's clothes were tattered on the fringes, and he was grabbing his arm in an awkward way as he limped forwards. His face was covered with a gasmask – thank god he had developed a habit of bringing one to the heists with Kaito's penchant for throwing gas-bombs.

The thief parted his lips to deflect any accusation that was sure to come from the Brit. However, the detective did not seem to be focusing on him as the detective continued to speak with a low, controlling voice, filled with the same terror and anguish Kaito was struggling with. "You need to leave, you cannot be here."

The magician clenched his teeth at the command and he rose to face Hakuba fully. "I'm not going anywhere until –"

"I will make sure she is alright. Now, get out of here. If this is really an attempt on your life, you can bet they have snipers waiting for your appearance in case you survived. If you are seen, we cannot guarantee anyone would come out alive. Least of all Aoko-san."

Kaito's stomach dropped to the floor, the cold chill filled his insides. He had not even imagined that scenario for one moment in his shock and need to make sure his childhood friend was safe – and if the detective had not been running late either, he would be amongst the moaning group scattered across the floor. He glanced behind him with a heart hammering as a last thought shot through him – if he had not been running late either, he would have been in the immediate blast zone and his insides would have been splattered across the walls.

He reeled backwards at the realization clenched his heart, his poker face thrown in the wind. He could not breathe as he gulped down pockets of air, and his whole body shook with the need to flee. He could have died, he had been a hair-breath away from ceasing to exist. He had been too careless, too stupid and confident – and never considered for one moment that the Syndicate would go after him through his fans.

Kaito would have stumbled backwards from blind panic, had a hand not landed on his shoulder to keep him steady. Glancing up, he could not see Hakuba's expression through the mask nor the emotion in his eyes, but when he spoke it came out in a mere whisper.

"You need to leave Kuroba, right now. You do not have the luxury of panicking. Go, and do not even dare to look back."

Kaito wanted to argue, to fight back. However, he found himself nodding in agreement a moment later. The detective was right, staying would only bring more danger to Aoko. He would have to trust Hakuba with her well-being. With a swear under his breath, he turned and ran. He ran out of the room with heavy steps and an aching heart – it felt like he was abandoning all those people. That he was leaving them to their terrible faith that was his fault alone. As he started up the stairs to the floor above, he could vaguely hear someone in the stairwell. He prayed it was the paramedics.

Reaching the sixth floor, he tapped on his com, finally remembering through the haze in his head that he was alone. "Jii-chan? Are you there? Please answer me," he begged., However, unsurprisingly, there where was no response. He could only hope the explosion had only knocked out the elder magician's earbuds.

With tears burning in his eyes, he fled like a coward, leaving his heart behind with the people below.