Sanctuary
Between hers and Kaito's home, she might choose the latter.
Aoko couldn't remember the exact time when she first received Kaito's house key.
His mother might have given it to her. Or she forced it out from Kaito. Or he gave it to her willingly. She couldn't recall at all. And it just showed how insignificant and old the memory was.
Pushing the key in and giving a smooth twist, the door unlocked with a loud clack and she walked her way in.
The house was quiet and dark, but Aoko was at ease. She'd been here a million times, and she doubt any ghost would randomly pick this house to haunt today. She unloaded her bag of groceries onto the table before taking her sweet time to flick the lights on. And when she did, her eyes squinted uncomfortably. It reminded her how much Kaito used to hate her doing that to him on random Saturday mornings, and the thought made her smile, just a little.
No time for reminiscing. She skipped back to the kitchen table and began loading the groceries into the fridge.
She'd moved a couple of pots and pans from her own home and stock it in Kaito's kitchen shelves. Unbelievingly, it was more convenient to bring the food here rather than asking Kaito to go to her house to eat. He always told her he was lazy, or didn't answer her dinner-reminder calls because he was napping (As if his school naps weren't enough). She would only cook at home if her father comes back, but most of the time, she stayed and cooked at Kaito's house.
But before that, she needed some rest. Her trainings at the police academy drained her, and food was the least of her priority now.
Even if she was blindfolded, she knew where to go. After climbing up the stairs, all she needed was to turn right, take seven steps and she'd be right outside Kaito's room. She turned the knob and pushed the door open. The size and her room was similar to Kaito's, but there were a few strong differences between the two. His room was bigger, a little bit neater (surprise, surprise), and much more cosier. Hers was smaller because of all her soft toys, photo frames and the countless decorations that were plastered all over her wall. Hers was a little bit more messier because she was too busy to clean up her notes-filled desk and bookshelves. And lastly, hers was less cosier because she felt more belonged... here.
She slumped onto Kaito's bed. The bed sheets were still fresh and scented with the floral detergent she used to wash it two days ago. She caressed his pillow, trying to figure out where the dent was.
It was faint. But still there.
Aoko glanced up. Right across the room was the portrait of Kaito's father. If it was other guys, they wouldn't dare or want to put up a full-blown picture of their father in their room. But Kaito did, not out of the extraordinary, but just because he loved his father too much to care about such silly embarrassment. And Aoko understood. And Aoko never laughs. Aoko loved his father too.
Willing the needed strength, she pushed her weary body up from his bed and trudged towards the portrait. She felt the cool frame under her skin, and gave a push.
The wall flipped, sucking her in during the momentum.
Sensors on automation, the room dramatically lit up, first on her, and then on the ground, and then the walls.
Even without his presence, the room was basically screaming Kaitou Kid. It was white, like him. Annoyingly bright, like him. And secretive, like him. She'd been in here a few times, and of course, everything still looked exactly the same as she last entered. His tools were scattered on the huge table in the middle of the room. Maps, scribbled with codes she couldn't understand even now, were plastered everywhere on the wall. There were strings connecting from one place to another, and thumbtacks pinned onto supposedly useful photos of trucks and people that rang no bell to Aoko.
Except for two photos.
One of it was a shaky, blurred image of a group of suspicious-looking men dressed in black. Two words were written across their clothes with a white marker.
to destroy.
A few photos next to it was another one she recognized. It was clearer, sharper, and consisted much more bright colours than the others. Someone from the photography club managed to capture the moment when Kaito gave her a rose, and they were both smiling under the showering confetti as the principal in the background congratulate them of their graduation. Two words were written above their head with a black marker.
to protect.
Kaito did it. He did both of it.
And he died because of it.
Three bullet wounds. Endless blood. Lots of screaming. And mixed sirens-
Aoko sobbed.
She couldn't forget how he fell onto the ground when he was shot. Limbless, fearful, and lots of-
Lot of regrets.
And those painful eyes were directed at her.
She didn't understood why Kaitou Kid would look at her that way, until the very moment before she fainted on the hospital floor; To suddenly know your best friend, who was supposed to be at home and taking his stupid nap, had died... The blow was too much for her.
But despite that, Kaito did still make up for his regret. He wrote her a letter. A letter filled with many unsaid things, which Jii gave to her the next day after she woke up from her faint, all while screaming and begging that it was all a dream.
(It was unfair. Because he would never get to hear what she had to say. He would never know what she wanted to say. And she was the one regretting now. It was so unfair)
The letter contained of his apologies and gratefulness. One for lying to her, and the other for being by his side. And he told her about his secret room and about the lies he said. He told her about everything. And he told her that he loved her too. He apologised again, for leaving her with all these burdensome and messed up truth.
But he didn't leave only that. He had left a lot of things after he died. The clock tower... Their photos... His room... And out of all, one of those things he left behind was her too.
.end.