When the Fool meets its brother's Children,
In lieu of the Golden Goose,
The Oyster's child will be stolen.
I will meet you then, 4:21 AM.

-Kaitou KID (doodle)

April fifth.

Kid perched on a stray wooden box on the rooftop, hand toying with the Pearl Egg he had stolen not moments earlier. When the roof door squeaked open, he leaned backwards instinctively, but the intruder was an expected voice.

"Did you have to pull a heist in this ungodly hour?" the person called out.

Kid slipped back out from within the shadows, smile plastered on his lips. "Glad you could make it, Meitantei."

The Meitantei had a large baseball cap lodged on his head, successfully covering up his features. He was donned in clothes that didn't suit his detective image, and he was clearly unfamiliar with them, judging by the stiff way he moved.

It was obvious the detective was trying to hide his identity - much like the previous heist.

Shinichi's eyes narrowed as he turned towards the white-clad thief. "You called me out," he said calmly, arms crossed across his chest. Kid supposed that was the only reason he wasn't doing anything to capture him like his usual detectives were prone to do. "The time, 4:21 – I suppose it looks innocuous enough, but when you use sino-Japanese reading it spells out 'Shi-ni-ichi'. 'I will meet you then, Shinichi'," the detective explained, watching Kid closely.

Kid nodded, pleased. "Good job," he praised.

"It was simple to deduce," the detective said, before continuing bluntly, "What do you want?" straight to the point.

Judging by the Meitantei's words and shaded appearance, it was obvious he didn't want to be present longer than necessary. Yet, why wouldn't the dear detective want to be recognised, Kid wondered, because he'd done his research, and Kudo Shinichi thrived in the spotlight.

It was a constant sight to find the detective on TV and newspapers, preening from the attention with a smug smirk on his lips - until he suddenly dropped off the face of the earth. Now that he was back, everything about him seemed different from documented. What was once an egotistical teen now become one who lurked with utmost secrecy.

Was that, somehow, a hint to Conan's equally abrupt absence?

Kid hummed thoughtfully under his breath. He slid his hands into his pockets, adopting a causal stride as he closed the distance to the detective. "What do I want, you ask?" he repeated softly. "I want a lot of things. But first and foremost, we never finished our conversation."

Shinichi raised an eyebrow, tensing with every step Kid took.

"About Tantei-kun?" Kid prompted, when Shinichi didn't respond.

"I told you everything," he countered defensively.

Kid let out a low, disbelieving laugh. "Don't lie to me."

Shinichi unconsciously lowered his eyes. "I have not," the detective murmured, though mostly to himself. Strictly speaking, Kid couldn't deny his words.

The thief was trained to pick out the little ticks and twitches that signaled untruthfulness, and Shinichi hadn't shown any of them. If anything, Shinichi had been actively trying not to lie by relying on half-truths and vague replies instead.

Frankly, it was just as annoying.

"You're not telling me the whole truth either." Kid hated it, this need for secrecy about the one kid Kaitou cared so much about. Why was the topic of Conan so taboo that getting the detective to talk was harder than pulling teeth?

Shinichi pursed his lips.

"How do I get in touch with Tantei-kun?" Kid continued, when Shinichi wouldn't, daring Shinichi to shrug it off. "He's your cousin," Kid pushed relentlessly, "and I know he's contacted you before."

More than just contact, they deduced cases together. Conan was not just a cousin, but also a close one who looked up to the Great Detective, if the boy's choice of career was any indication.

But the detective only replied, "You can't."

"I can't get in touch, or I can't know how?" Kid said, and regardless, neither answer was acceptable.

"You can't," the Meitantei repeated definitively. The stiff, ramrod posture Shinichi had been standing in started to wilt, replaced by a vaguely apologetic look.

Kid's eyes hardened. Those seemed to be Shinichi's only expressions as of late: unyieldingly mum or guiltily apologetic. If anything, they did nothing more but stir up worrying fears why the detective was unable to elaborate when it appeared so much like his conviction was forced.

And worse of all, Kid needed his help because though he'd tried, he still had nothing to go on.

The Mouris had no forwarding address stashed away anywhere in their house. Even Kid's trump card, Conan's cellphone number, came back with a constant 'out of service' signal, GPS untrackable.

"Why doesn't Tantei-kun's cellphone work?" he added promptly.

There was an abrupt twitch of Shinichi's hand at his sudden question. Kid's eyes narrowed.

Did the Meitantei have Conan's phone? Because Kid hadn't miss that aborted motion, Shinichi's subconscious reach towards his back pocket.

Kid moved. Quickening his pace, he darted towards the detective. Immediately Shinichi dodged out of the way, but even with the slightest brush, Kid had already picked his pocket.

In his hand, sat a cherry-red smartphone.

Kid's heart stuttered for all of a second, before something cross between relief and disappointment washed through him after further observation. It was near identical thing, but it wasn't Conan's.

"All the cool kids are getting matching phones," Kid muttered sardonically, words hiding away his disappointment.

He slid a finger across the screen and typed in 4869 at the password prompt, because honestly, what else could it possibly be with these Holmes obsessed detectives? He ignored the Meitantei's sounds of protests and grabby hands in favour of scrolling through his contact list.

Kid was on a mission.

Because surely, being cousins and all, Shinichi would have Conan's number, right?

Wrong.

He didn't – there was no Conan, no Edogawa, no Chibi, no anything to suggest Tantei-kun's existence in Shinichi's life.

"Your own cousin not important enough for an entry of his own?" Kid said, deceptively calm.

Shinichi sighed. "I told you, Kid. You can't contact Conan. You can't."

Suddenly those words sounded far, far more ominous than it did mere minutes prior. Kid had an unexpected realisation that Shinichi didn't mean just him anymore – nobody could contact Conan.

A small shiver ran down the thief's spine. Still, he stood tall and tense, refusing to show it.

"What happened to him? There is no record of any Edogawa travelling anywhere by plane or otherwise," he said, enunciating each word clearly, more of a demand than a question, as his eyes burned on the detective's form. "I've checked."

"There is," Shinichi insisted.

"Who do you take me for?" Kid rebutted, and Shinichi flinched. "Of course there is evidence of a purchased pass under Tantei-kun's name, and the airline's database confirms he had boarded," he said idly before looming over the detective, "but the boy himself never entered the terminal. Isn't that right?"

Because Kid had planned to trace Tantei-kun all the way to his new residence, only to find the task impossible from the get-go. The security cameras caught zero footage of the boy despite how hard Kid looked, despite how many he hacked.

Instead of answering, though, Shinichi abruptly swiveled his head, jerking around, as if hearing footsteps in the stairwell behind him.

Frustration built.

"Don't," Kid all but hissed. He wouldn't allow Shinichi to force him to retreat by pretending Nakamori was closing in. "I've kept them all suitably occupied."

Nakamori's impending appearance had been a valid excuse the last heist, but Kid learnt from his mistakes. He was not giving the detective another opportunity to take advantage of the situation and escape before Kid was finished with him.

Shinichi turned back guiltily. He hesitated, adjusting his cap, pulling the rim lower. He shuffled uncomfortably in spot. Finally, when it seemed like he ran out of actions to postpone the inevitable, he said, "It- it would be best if you forget about him. Forget Conan ever existed," in a low mutter that had him straining to hear.

But Kid couldn't. Nor would he.

Tantei-kun was a vicious little boy, with a haughty attitude and vengeance like no other with that dreaded soccer ball of his, but Kid liked the kid all the same. Conan was a smart boy, smug, observant, like the other detectives Kid knew. But he was also adaptable and fair – he'd let Kid off before because it was the right thing to do at the time.

He refused to forget someone as uniquely precious as that.

"Why should I?" Kid demanded, perhaps a bit more harshly than he intended.

Shinichi took a breath, teeth biting the bottom of his lip as he tried to word his next sentence properly. "This is not where he belongs," he finally said, and Kid had to wonder how that was the best Shinichi could come up with.

"And where exactly does Tantei-kun belong?"

"I told you; forget it."

He refused to concede.

"I'm asking you, Kudo. Where does Tantei-kun belong?" His tone was less gentleman-like than the gentleman thief would have prefered, but at the moment, Kid couldn't bring himself to care.

Shinichi hummed and hawed in front of him, until: "He's – it's… Not here," the detective finally said, with too much indecisiveness at his wording. And even still, there was something wrong with those words. Because if 'here' was not where the boy belonged (and Kid truly refuted that statement), then he had to belong somewhere, but the Meitantei didn't seemed to be conveying any of that in his response at all.

"Conan… does not belong here," Shinichi repeated once more, sounding more absolute this time, but the explanation was still lacking.

And still, the way the Meitantei said those words didn't sit right with Kid. His statement sounded too unforgiving. It wasn't just 'not here' as in the chilly rooftops that served as Kid's escape routes; it was more of a 'not here' that encompassed the whole of the world and everything on it.

But surely that couldn't be it.

Half of Kid wished he's heard the inflection in the Meitantei's voice wrong. But the other half of him knew this was proof that he did know what happened to Conan, and yes, something did happen to the boy.

Whether or not it was the frightening conclusion that suddenly flickered across Kid's mind, he didn't know…. but part of him almost didn't want to find out, because it wasn't like detective to tolerate murder, but the only way someone could be 'not here' in this world was if they were dead.

Even so, the detective acted too sacrilegious towards the whole matter if death was involved, especially if such a thing had happened to family. - unless...

Kid held back a response to the cool, prickling sensation running down his spine with a calm and dangerous stare. He leaned in, keeping his voice low, and hand hidden inside his pocket near his card gun. "You're still not telling me everything," he said slow and weighty, eyes trained on the detective's minute reactions, carving each deep in his mind for further speculation. "But know this: if I ever find out you had something to do with Tantei-kun's disappearance, you will regret it," he warned.

Then with a sweep of his cape, Kid escaped into the moonlit sky. There, his poker face dropped to something more feral.

It was only for a very brief second, but Kid was certain he saw Shinichi wince guiltily at his parting words. That was the exact moment Kid knew the detective would be forever demoted from Meitantei to Kudo in his head. He was definitely an involved party, and Kid would never forgive anyone who dared to harm those he considered precious.

Kudo didn't deserve a nickname from him anymore.


a/n: This fic was originally supposed to be comprised entirely of rooftop meetings, that's why you see so many. But, as you can tell, I definitely decided to change that.

It took seven chapter, but I finally got Kid to distrust Shinichi, huhu :D