A/N: The fascinating characters of Detective Conan do not belong to me but to their creator. ENJOY! xD
Info:
Kudou Shinichi – Jimmy Kudo
Kaitou KID – Phantom Thief KID
The Better Thief
'Come on. Come on.'
One push. One breath. An ear against a chest, listening intently.
Nothing.
I won't let you take him.
The second push. The second breath. An ear against a chest, senses heightened in desperation.
Still nothing.
I'm the better thief. He's mine.
Seconds ticked by, minutes even. He had lost count of how many times he had pushed, his arms aching, quite sure that he might have cracked a rib and more than certain that he had definitely bruised flesh. He had lost count of how many times he had leant in, the pinch in his neck and the crick in his lower back nothing compared to the gut wrenching terror that stabbed through him in painful intensity.
Nobody gets the better of me. This is my territory. I will never let you have what I have yet to earn, yet to claim.
He wasn't going to give up. He never gave up, not when it came to a treasure he wanted more than life itself, not when it came to a treasure that he would die for.
A treasure that he would freely be arrested for; something that he would gladly spend his life trapped behind bars for.
Freedom meant nothing to him; freedom he would willingly throw away if he could give it in exchange for the prize he simply refused to let go of, the thing he simply refused to lose.
An expulsion of breath. A heartbeat where there was none.
And, Kuroba Kaito collapsed, ignoring the telltale prickling behind his eyelids, a triumphant, smug smirk a mask to hide the intense relief that swamped him.
In front of him lay Kudou Shinichi, badly injured and struggling to breathe, but very much alive.
As the police sirens wailed in a distance, followed by screams and yells, the mingling of voices both familiar and strange, Kaito got to his feet, brushed off the dirt that clung to his white suit and rearranged his monocle, his usual playful smile plastered over any other emotion. It was time for him to make his escape.
Taking one last glance, drinking in the sight of handsome and sharp aquiline features, Kaito committed this latest portrait to memory.
For the next time they met, the detective would be his seven-year-old self again, wide-eyed and intense despite his compact stature. Kudou would no doubt feel more than a little disappointed that the latest cure had not worked quite as promised, his frustration a dent in his latest victorious exploit.
But, having him around as a child was better than not having him at all.
In a swirl of white, much to the surprised gasps and outraged curses, he bade them all farewell; once again successful in his heist.
After all, Kaitou KID had issued a challenge, and he was never one to bow out in failure.
Especially if his nemesis was another thief.
A cheery chuckle, a splash of smoke and sprinkles, a flash of light, and not a trace of white.
Kaitou KID, no, Kuroba Kaito, was not one to admit defeat.
Not even to death itself.