Chapter 7

All that was on the TV channels was Kaitou Kid, Kaitou Kid, and more Kaitou Kid. Distressed, Aoko threw the remote she had just been holding with disgust. That idiot thief didn't deserve the limelight – her father did.

Not to say that Nakamori-keibu went unnoticed through all the news reports. He was the head of the taskforce and oldest member on the team; of course he was going to wind up being mentioned. However, most of the time he was made fun of and shown on the TV as an incapable fool who was completely unable to chase after a criminal, let alone Kaitou Kid.

Of course, that was not the case. Aoko knew her father to be very smart – smarter than a lot of people in the world, actually. Often, when she was having trouble with her homework – be it math, Japanese, social studies, science, anything – he would be able to sit down and figure out the answer in a few moments. While he wasn't anything close to a genius (like Kaito and his father were), he definitely was intelligent, and didn't deserve to be called what the news reporters called him.

Over the years, Aoko had discovered that it wasn't the actual thievery that Kid performed that bothered her rather than the mocking of her father by pretty much everyone in the world. The stupid, careless smirk that was always pasted on the guy's face annoyed her more than all the rude comments people had ever said about her father - the grin that said, "Ha, ha, ha – you quack inspector! You'll never catch me!" Because of this, the Nakamori girl found that even the word "quack" irritated her beyond belief; even if the word was used in other context – such as to say, "Aw, listen to the cute little duck quack!" – she would immediately be put into a bad mood, and if she already was in a terrible mood...

Turning back to the TV screen – which had been playing through Aoko's mental rant – the girl stared angrily at the picture of Kaitou Kid that was being shown. Squinting at the fuzzy image (the Nakamori family's television was an old, cheap one due to money problems), she attempted to look under his top hat and monocle. Of course, it was even harder to see his face than in real life. If it was that easy to see, her father, who always got pretty close to the thief, would have put the other man behind bars a long time ago. It was too bad it just wasn't that simple.

Giving up on the hopeless cause, the girl stalked away from the room without turning off the television. Retreating into the kitchen once more, she pulled out a seat and sat down. A colourful object on the wall caught her notice as she did so.

She looked over to the wall to get a better look at it. The object turned out to be a picture of her mother. Frowning, she realized – not for the first time – that she had never really met her. She had been a three-year-old when her mother had died of a case of pneumonia gone bad, leaving her alone with her busy police officer father.

Slamming her fist down on the table, she looked down at the wood as her tears started to fall. As she sniffed in order to control her runny nose, she glanced yet again at the portrait of her late mom.

Other people, she knew, had grown up with one parent or another and had gotten along just fine. For example, there was Kaito – his father had died when he was nine, and still he performed tricks and went about everyday life as if nothing had happened. Of course, he had been sad for a number of years after the ordeal, but he was perfectly fine now. Most unlike her, he was not still wishing for a miracle to happen that would give his dead father back to him.

At least, that was Aoko's understanding of him. She was certain that, although his poker face was extremely well-trained and used it in almost every situation, he was not using it to conceal his ongoing sadness, therefore meaning that since she did not see any displayed melancholy, he was not mourning for his father any longer. In her mind it made sense, but the actual fact that he was indeed sad disproved her theory, though she was not aware of this.

Giving a final, shuddering sob, the girl leaned back in her chair and stared up at the kitchen ceiling. In her mind, she absently remembered that her father should be getting home soon, and as the thought stuck in her head longer and longer, she finally came to the understanding that her eyes were red and puffy and there were tear tracks on her cheeks.

Rushing to the bathroom, Aoko turned the cold water knob and cleaned her face. There was barely anything she could do about her eyes, but the tear tracks were easy enough to get rid of. Looking at the mirror, she made herself smile, and noticed that the odd state of her eyes was almost unnoticeable.

She left the bathroom in a rush as she heard the familiar sounds that told her that her father was pulling the car into the driveway. Taking the stairs by threes, she ran to her room and snatched up the necessary items she would need for the night in order to protest against the thief. It just wouldn't do to forget them that night.

Coming down the stairs just as Ginzo walked through the door, Aoko grinned at him, trying to put her strategy to work. The man, who had been around her for her whole life, wasn't fooled for a second, but since she obviously didn't want to talk about it, he didn't bother asking. She was a very stubborn girl, and wouldn't give in easily, if at all. Instead, he set down his briefcase and said tiredly, "Ready to go?"

In reply, Aoko nodded with determination. Reaching into the bag she had taken with her, she pulled an item out. "Here. I bought this at the store earlier today. It ought to help you out if he tries anything with that gas. He'll never know what went wrong! Throw him in the slammer, dad!" The idea of Kid in handcuffs brought a smile to her face. "Oh, and dad?"

"Yeah?"

"How close are you to figuring out his identity? I mean, do you have any evidence or anything?"

"Besides the strand of hair Hakuba tested in his lying laboratory, no - nothing else."

"Why do you say that about Hakuba-kun's -"

"Because the stupid thing said that Kid was a sixteen or seventeen year old. Kaitou Kid has been around for twenty one years. See the problem? Now let's go."

"But -"

"We can talk in the car. We need to get going now or else we'll be late."