Chapter 9

Kuroba Takumi had very set weekly schedules as for when he visited Kuroba. Wednesdays were Kuroba's late days, so he never visited then. Saguru wasn't expecting anything more from the evening than grading papers over takeaway and a pot of herbal tea. The knock on his door, therefor, was surprise enough that he left a streak of ink across the test he was grading. Saguru stared at the thick black line marring the page and supposed it was good that he hadn't been using red ink at that moment or it would look like he'd tried to cross out half the page. The knock sounded again, this time softer, like the knocker was having second thoughts. Saguru set down his pen and made his way to the door.

On the other side was Takumi, hand half raised to try knocking a third time. His lips were pressed tight together, failing to keep a neutral face with his obvious nerves.

"Hakuba-sensei," he said, lowering his hand. His eyes fixed somewhere to the side of Saguru's left shoulder. "You said I could…" He trailed off.

Saguru opened the door wide enough for him to enter. "Please, come in."

"Ah, ex-excuse the intrusion," Takumi said. He slid into the room with Kuroba's easy grace, sliding his shoes off. Saguru didn't have guest slippers, which seemed to throw Takumi for a moment.

"Sock feet are fine," Saguru said. He had half expected to feel uneasy at this conversation finally occurring. If anything he was almost amused. It felt strange for a Kuroba to be so openly nervous to talk to him. "The apartment isn't much." He led Takumi to the main room, waving a hand at the two chairs clustered around his desk and the mess of papers on it, competing for space with his new plant and a pot of tea. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

Takumi twitched, tearing his eyes away from examining the apartment to nod. "Yes, please."

Saguru smiled and went to get his other mug from the cupboard. He wondered what Takumi saw in the room, what it revealed about him. It was still bare for the most part; just the necessities and things from work and a plant the only personality to it. Did that read as someone of simple tastes to him? Someone who didn't plan permanence? Or would it be some other trail his mind would wander down? Saguru didn't know Takumi enough to guess where his mind would go, but if he was anything like Kuroba in how he thought, it would be somewhere that Saguru didn't immediately think of.

He headed back to his teapot. As he poured the fresh cup of tea, he observed Takumi from the corner of his eye. Takumi hesitated with hands hovering over the chair, snatching glances at the papers on the desk like he knew he shouldn't look at them as they were someone's test scores, but not quite able to reign in the curiosity. Saguru held back a snort of amusement. Yes, there was plenty of Kuroba in him even if Aoko seemed to have taught him to have stricter morals.

"Sit," Saguru said. He handed over the teacup. The papers were swept to one side to finish grading later. His dinner remains were stacked on top after a cursory glance that there weren't any spills that would stain the pages. He settled heavily into his seat, absently massaging his knee. He didn't use the cane around his tiny apartment room much.

Takumi sat in the second chair like he was going to flee at any moment, both hands curled around the porcelain mug and his body perched on the very edge of the seat. The silence stretched as Takumi stared at his tea without drinking.

Saguru took pity on him. "You know, I don't bite. I did say you could come to talk whenever you wanted."

"I know." Takumi took a breath and let it out slowly. "I'm trying to figure out where to start."

"If it helps, I didn't meet your parents until halfway through their second year of high school. I am unaware when or how they met, but they had clearly been close for a long time at that point."

Takumi waved a hand. "I do know how they met. Baa-chan told me. Tou-san gave Kaa-san a flower near the clock tower when they were kids." Saguru had a moment's epiphany for why Kid had held a heist at that clock tower. It hadn't made much sense at the time, but a heist for sentimental reasons, well, Kuroba had always been soft on Aoko even when he wasn't inclined to openly show it. Takumi frowned. "You said you were rivals with Tou-san."

Saguru leaned back in his chair, taking along sip of his tea. How much could he talk about? He'd have to be careful hoe he worded things. He'd promised Kuroba and Aoko that he wouldn't reveal Kid to the world, and he certainly had no intention of making their home lives more complicated by leading Takumi to the inevitable conclusion if neither of his parents wanted him near that truth. They had good reason not to considering the amount of danger in both their lives. "I did use the word rivals," Saguru said, hand warm on his cup. "I am not sure it is entirely accurate. We were not truly competing toward a shared goal, merely we disagreed on certain topics and were forever prodding each other to get a reaction."

"Like when you hit on my mom."

Saguru raised an eyebrow, taking in the slight hunch to Takumi's shoulders and the pouting jut of his lower lip. He did seem hung up over that detail. "Yes." He tapped his index fingers against warm porcelain as he thought. "Your mother is—" was? He didn't truly know her now, but he couldn't imagine her changing too much since then even if mop battles had ended. "—a spirited woman. Bright. I couldn't help but notice her or Kuroba when I transferred to their class." It was hard to miss duels and angry rants and teasing pranks. And Aoko had shined brightest with her eyes sparking with righteous anger against one of Kuroba's tricks or some injustice Kid had pulled. Saguru could still clearly picture the way her blue eyes got sharp and her knuckles went white on the handle of her mop. "She was one of the only people in the classroom speaking out against Kaitou Kid, and that is what truly caught my attention. You see, I had transferred hoping to catch Kid and discover his motivation."

"Seems like a lot of effort to go halfway around the world for Kid," Takumi muttered into his tea, "even if he is one of the best thieves out there."

Saguru had a weird and unsettling desire to take offense at Kid being called merely 'one of the best.' Perhaps it was lingering pride of his time chasing Kid, or perhaps—more likely—he'd been spending too much time with Kuroba. He pulled his face back to neutral from…whatever expression he had been making. He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, my father was police commissioner at the time, and as a minor with a citizen parent, it wasn't difficult to arrange. I was interested in the challenge and overly confident that I could catch him where others had failed." He turned the topic away from himself. "At any rate, I transferred into your parents' class. Your father and I took a quick disliking to each other. You see, he was Kid's biggest fan."

Takumi snorted. "He's still Kid's fan, but he doesn't talk about it much because Kaa-san freaked out about it. I swear, she'd talk about how Kid was frustrating and an insult to the police while Tou-san would want to talk about how Kid could have pulled off his heists like it was one big magic show. I point out that Kid really is a good showman once, and Kaa-san just about bit my head off on her way to scream at Tou-san."

"Not much about that has changed then," Saguru said, though he thought it had changed quite a bit. Back in high school, Aoko's rages hadn't been personal, and Kuroba's fan tendencies had been a game. Now Aoko was the police inspector responsible for catching Kid and knew who was behind the mask, but wouldn't unmask Kid unless she caught him fair and square. It was very personal, and the emotions behind her anger had to run deep to the root of what she would perceive as Kuroba's betrayal. And Kuroba… Kuroba likely had only wanted more than anger from his son reflected on his alter ego. What parent wouldn't want their child to respect their skill even if they wouldn't agree with the motives? It was sad and Takumi was caught in the middle of it. Because he was curious, Saguru asked, "What do you think about Kid?"

Fingers tapped along porcelain harder as Takumi frowned. "He's probably insane and is either an adrenaline junkie or has a death wish. Kaa-san doesn't talk about it, but I've read some of the police reports." He looked momentarily guilty. "I know I shouldn't've but there were guns. I've heard it from people, and sometimes the media covers it, but Kaa-san never talks about it. I wanted to know."

"Curiosity does make temptation difficult." Saguru gave him a smile. He should probably disapprove. Probably. But he'd been in the same shoes in the past and he remembered poking his nose into far too many things his eyes were not supposed to have read at a much younger age than Takumi currently was.

"Anyway." Takumi took a sip of tea. "Kid's frustrating on one hand because of Kaa-san, and kind of cool because he can do things that I have trouble wrapping my head around. I should hate him, but I don't. I just don't want Kaa-san caught in whatever Kid's trying to do with all those gems he steals."

"I see." Kuroba would be relieved to know the answer to if Takumi hated Kid. "Getting back to Aoko," and oh, was this going to be a circuitous conversation if Takumi hared off after any related topics, "I flirted with her largely to annoy your father, as I said. He was a fan of Kid and I was one of the people trying to catch him. We didn't get along and used any opportunity to try and irritate each other in hopes that the other would slip up." He hesitated. He wanted to be as honest as possible. "At one point I even theorized he could be Kid, and I thought if I made him angry enough he would get sloppy and I could catch him out. Flirting with Aoko-san did make him angry. But I never did prove that theory."

"Do you still think that?" Takumi asked, honestly curious. Saguru would have expected denial or anger at such an accusation.

The lack of such a response was strange. Did he think that Kuroba would never do such a thing? Or that such a hypothesis was a natural progression of thoughts? Saguru sipped his tea. "I do not," he said slowly, "accuse Kuroba of being Kid anymore." Technically true. He could also truthfully say he didn't think Kuroba was Kid because he knew Kuroba was Kid, but worded as an accusation, it felt much less like a half-truth. "Who Kid actually is, is no longer any of my business."

Takumi leaned forward. "Aren't you curious?"

"Isn't everyone?" Saguru countered.

Takumi wrinkled his nose. "Not everyone has chased Kid. I'd think that anyone who chased him would want to know. Ojii-chan doesn't shut up about it. Kaa-san wants to catch him, identity aside. I can't think of anyone on the task force I've met who isn't curious. I'm curious and I don't even chase him. You've got to be curious."

"I'm curious about his motives," Saguru said, because even after all these years, he still hadn't put it all together. Plenty of theories, but unless Kuroba told him, they would only ever be theories. "That, out of everything, was what interested me most as a detective. What motivates people to commit crimes, what pushes them to commit a murder or steal a valuable or hold someone for ransom? What logic did they follow, what made it worth the risk for them and was it still worth it now that they have been caught." Old enthusiasm rose in Saguru, thick with nostalgia. He still was interested in it. If it weren't for his leg… No, it wasn't just his leg anymore, it was knowing that between it and how he had let his skills grow slack, it wasn't safe for him or those around him for Saguru to be a detective anymore. He'd seen proof of that firsthand.

"Yeah, but what about who he is?" Takumi persisted.

"Unless his identity is part of what is motivating him, it doesn't matter," Saguru said. "Kid could be a mailman or a showman or a social recluse with delusions of grandeur. A name and face couldn't mean less to me without the mind and soul behind it."

Takumi flopped back in his chair, balancing it on two legs like Kuroba used to do with just as much easy balance. "Okay. Fine. Can't say I get it, but okay. Kid's interesting for his brain not the rest of him. You'd think you'd still be chasing him for that though."

"There are other things in life these days." The words felt hollow. "Anyway," Saguru said, pushing away nostalgia and regret, "you came here to talk about your parents, not Kid."

"Right!" Takumi grinned, arms crossing behind his head. He was tempting gravity with the angle of the chair, but it seemed practiced enough that Saguru let it slide. Besides, it was a relief to see him relaxing. "So, do you have any embarrassing stories or anything? Because Tou-san can talk around high school for hours and tell you nothing and Kaa-san only ever brings stuff up to get angry at." His eyes glittered mischievously at the thought of possible parental blackmail material.

"I have plenty," Saguru said as he fought an answering smile. Most of the stories would probably give Takumi ideas. Still… "How much have you heard about Koizumi Akako or the infamous Valentine's Day debacles?"

"Nothing, tell me more."

Saguru found himself grinning as he recounted the Valentine's Day he had been there for and the chaos that had sprung from it. He couldn't remember more women being irritated by Kuroba than that day, and Koizumi had always been at least as terrifying as Aoko when angry. The rest of the conversation passed quickly. By the time Saguru had recounted Valentine's Day and a few more of Kuroba and Koizumi's unfortunate interactions and how Aoko fit into them, he'd looked up and well over an hour had passed.

"Ah," he said, rounding up the conversation, "it's almost time for your curfew."

"Really?" Takumi looked at the glowing LED display of Saguru's desk clock. "Huh." He straightened, stretched, and Saguru had yet another moment of remembering a much younger Kuroba right before he did something athletic. "Time went a lot faster than I was expecting. Hakuba-sensei, thank you." He bowed politely and Saguru waved the gesture away.

"No, it was a pleasure. I hadn't thought about back then to such an extent in a long time. It was nice." Saguru smiled and walked Takumi to the door. "If you ever want to talk again, please do."

Takumi came back the next week, and the week after that, hungry for stories. At first he was satisfied by the happy and humorous ones, but Saguru knew that it wouldn't last, not when Takumi was trying to understand how things were now.

"Do you know why my parents divorced?" Takumi asked, the question not surprising at all. He was barely in through the door this time, agitated, pent-up energy in him like the question had been knocking around in him so long he'd bust if he didn't ask it now.

"I think that is a question best left to your parents to answer."

"They don't talk about it. I don't understand," Takumi said, throwing himself into the free chair next to Saguru's increasingly messy desk. "Kaa-san gets all serious and deflects or talks around the subject, which I get, she left Tou-san. But not even Tou-san talks about it, and he usually gives some answer to my questions." Takumi's face scrunched, his upper lip almost touching the tip of his nose. "And that includes stuff most parents won't talk with their kids about. I asked his about sex once when I was ten and he answered all the questions I had and even covered stuff I shouldn't even have known to ask about like kinks and same-sex practices and how to stay safe no matter what I was doing. I blame Shiemi for that, she reads stuff she shouldn't for any age."

Saguru pushed the image of Kuroba discussing the safety of bondage—how could his mind not go to bondage after years of handcuff quips thrown his direction—for another time. "Perhaps they don't feel that you are ready to hear it."

Takumi snorted. "Please. They'd have said it could wait until I was older. This is different. Not even Jii-san knows, and he wasn't lying. He's a terrible liar and he didn't dodge the question either, so he really doesn't know."

How Aoko explained divorcing Kuroba to her father without mentioning the actual cause, Saguru couldn't begin to guess. He felt a bit bad for Nakamori-keibu. He would have been pulled between loyalty to his daughter and fondness for him son-in-law without any indication of why he should be angry at Kuroba like Aoko so clearly was.

"Do you know?" Takumi prompted again, leaning on Saguru's desk. "Don't avoid it, just…do you know?"

Saguru felt guilty under the earnest weight of Takumi's stare. He sighed. "Yes, I know why your parents divorced. And no I'm not going to tell you."

"But why?" Takumi scowled, fiddling with the corner of one of Saguru's folders.

"It would be undermining your parents' authority, and I can't do that. It's not my story to tell." Saguru pulled the folder away and added it to the stack of papers he needed to grade that night. Takumi picked at his nails instead, plucking at the ragged edges of cuticles like removing them would reveal something.

"But how can you know when even Jii-san doesn't. Is it because you were a detective or just because you knew them in high school?"

"A bit of both." Saguru sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't getting any work done so long as Takumi wanted answers. He closed the folder and gave his full attention. "Nakamori-keibu is a good detective, but he didn't know your parents the way other students their age would."

"But he's Kaa-san's dad," Takumi said, picking at a bit of dirt stuck under one nail. "He should know her enough to figure it out."

How to explain it? "Would you say your parents know you well?"

Takumi frowned. "Yes." He looked up. "I can talk to them about pretty much anything between the two of them even if they don't talk about themselves."

"But would you say they knew everything about you?" Saguru prompted. "That you didn't have a few secrets from them?"

"No…" Takumi rested his hands in his lap, no longer picking at them. "So you're saying he didn't know parts of them, important parts, because they kept them hidden?"

"Yes." Close enough to what Saguru had been aiming for. "A parent isn't going to know everything about their child, and often because they are so close they are more likely to be blind to things someone that did not know their child as well would notice."

"Oh." The frown was back. "But they still love each other. Sure Kaa-san is angry at Tou-san a lot, but if she didn't still love him she wouldn't storm in and make sure he's eating right or check and see if he's been having drinking binges—he doesn't do any of that much anymore, but he did for a while and she would help get him back on track." The frown was turning into a look up misery and Saguru wasn't sure if he was capable of calming Takumi down if he started crying. He had never been good at handling tears. "And Tou-san keeps track of Kaa-san's health and sneaks her favorite foods into the cupboards when she isn't looking when she's had a bad week, and he leaves a flower at the door on her birthday even. You can't tell me that they're not still attached, because they are."

Saguru rubbed his forehead because yes, clearly they were. Of course they were. They couldn't get away from each other enough to separate their lives but too much hurt kept them from ever getting back together.

Takumi sighed. "The only thing I can think of is that Tou-san did something bad, so bad Kaa-san can't forgive it. And I think she could forgive an affair, but I don't know if she could forgive him doing something illegal." He sighed. "Maybe something small, but I don't think she'd ever forgive him if he killed someone or something. But I don't think Tou-san would ever do that…" Takumi trailed off, his voice getting quieter and quieter as he spoke.

Saguru cleared his throat. "Ah. I do not believe that your father would commit murder."

"But what else would Kaa-san be unable to forgive?"

Takumi's elbows were tucked up close to his sides and his arms crossed just enough to make it look like he was holding himself together with a weak grip of his arms. Saguru looked away. The sun was too bright for this dark of a conversation. It sent dappled shadows through green leaves of the tree right outside his window. Saguru looked back at Takumi. "I can't tell you why your parents divorced, but if you would like, I can talk to them for you."

"It won't help," Takumi said.

"I can make an attempt at the least."

Takumi sighed. "Thanks."

Saguru had the awkward urge to reach out and pat Takumi's shoulder in some kind of comforting gesture, but it felt like it would be too familiar an action East or West in this sort of situation. Instead he let his hand rest on the corner of the desk close to Takumi and leaned forward. "Would you like to hear about their first date? Some of the account is secondhand, but I was there for the last bit where Aoko-san burst into the police station wielding a broom."

Takumi smiled, barely there, but a real smile. "Thanks. I'd like that."

It wasn't much to offer when Takumi was asking for why everything had fallen apart. But it did show that from the start of their romantic relationship, Kid had been something that broke any moment they were having.

Later, when Takumi left and the door closed behind him, Saguru was left with the papers he was supposed to be grading. He frowned down at a sentence construction worksheet, barely seeing the shaky attempts at English written there. It might, he thought, be about time to have a talk with Kuroba about his meetings with Takumi.

It was Thursday, and on a normal Thursday, Kuroba got off work before Saguru got home and took time to do…whatever it was Kuroba did with his relaxation time. On weeks a heist was scheduled, Kuroba was gone long hours and might not show up until the middle of the night, waking Saguru from the light sleep he managed when his thoughts were preoccupied by his neighbor. But some Thursdays Kuroba checked in on Saguru—and he always did at least once a week—and caught up with each other's week and life. This Thursday Kuroba knocked on Saguru's door with a box of post-dinner doughnuts to go with Saguru's habitual post-dinner tea. He looked so relaxed and cheerful for once—and honestly so, not pretending to be relaxed—that Saguru felt a bit guilty knowing he would be leading the conversation in directions Kuroba wouldn't be happy discussing.

Saguru greeted him with a smile anyway, letting him choose which seat he wanted. Naturally, Kuroba chose the one closest to the window like always. It likely wasn't even conscious anymore. Kuroba naturally went to the easiest exit. Which….was actually exploitable, but as Saguru wasn't out to catch Kid anymore, it wasn't his business.

Saguru passed Kuroba a teacup and dishes for the doughnuts. "The tea is a mint-green blend," he said, taking his seat across from Kuroba. His knee twinged on the way down. It was probably because he was a bit nervous to broach the subject. "Is that okay?"

"It's fine." Kuroba leaned back, stretching like a cat, above his head and arcing his back. Part of Saguru appreciated the flex of muscles through Kuroba's t-shirt. Kuroba plucked a custard filled, chocolate coated doughnut from the box. "Mint is good with sweets."

A glance at the box confirmed Saguru's favorite plain cake doughnuts with a light glaze. He had yet to figure out how Kuroba learned these things. Saguru hadn't eaten a doughnut in years. "Your day went well?" he asked.

"Finished a project. An incredibly detailed replica of a Chinese vase that they needed about a week ago because it needs preservation work done on it. Whoever did it last must have done a shoddy job because it was deteriorating." Custard oozed out the end of the doughnut as Kuroba bit into it. "I am incredibly proud of the replica. You could look it over and not spot a single difference down to the cracks in pattern, mistakes, and the weird bubble near the bottom from a mistake firing. Now I don't think I could replicate something like the random pattern of natural glaze firing, but I can paint a perfect replica no problem, using the right pigment mixture and given enough time."

Saguru nibbled at his doughnut. It was sweeter than he remembered them being. Perhaps his tastes had changed. He tried to think of a way to approach the topic that wasn't blunt and wouldn't come out as accusatory. "I had a conversation with Takumi-kun yesterday."

"Oh?" Kuroba sat up, intent. "You two have been getting along recently."

"Yes. I believe we have managed to work through much of our differences." Much to Saguru's relief because Takumi was a much better when he had a reason to be friendly than being antagonizing Saguru. "You were right about our shared pasts being the issue. He wants to know more about you and Aoko in high school."

"A different perspective, huh?" Kuroba frowned. "I guess that's better than him acting out."

"It's understandable why he'd be curious. I do have a unique perspective for an outsider." Not the most time spent, but he'd kept track of both Aoko and Kuroba back then with all the attention to detail that was his deductive habit.

"You do," Kuroba agreed.

Saguru took a sip of tea, peripherally aware of Kuroba's relaxation and good mood starting to dissolve as he attempted to read where Saguru was going with this. "You have no reason to worry, I have no intention of revealing anything you would be uncomfortable sharing with him."

"I'd hope you wouldn't," Kuroba said flatly.

"As I have said, I have no reason to interfere in anything related to Kid," Saguru said, starting to feel a bit tense as well. He sighed. The mint tea was supposed to be relaxing, but tea wasn't enough to smooth the way to unpleasant topics.

"Whatever you're trying to work up to, say it," Kuroba said.

Very well. Kuroba had asked. Saguru squared his shoulders and leaned forward. "You might want to talk to Takumi-kun a bit more about your separation from Aoko-san. He seems to be working with worst case scenarios for why Aoko-san left you. He actually speculated it could be because you murdered someone."

Kuroba looked at him blankly over the doughnut box. "What? You can't be serious."

"He does not truly believe you killed someone," Saguru said, a thread of impatience in his voice. "I don't think you are capable of murder short of protecting Takumi-kun or Aoko-san. He is merely speculating as he lacks a satisfactory answer."

"We gave him answers."

"Apparently they were not good enough."

Kuroba scowled and it smoothed into an impersonal mask. It hurt and Saguru was surprised at the emotion. Kuroba was retreating rather than discussing as an adult. "Well, at least you seem to think highly of me. Not capable of murder huh?"

Sarcasm. Lovely. Saguru rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Kuroba, I have always thought highly of you. Whether it was as an adversary to match wits with or for your skills, I have never thought you were beneath my respect."

"Funny how you showed it back then by handcuffing yourself to me."

"And you pulled off the heist all the same. I still don't see how, but you earned my respect time and again even as you earned my irritation." Kuroba's cup of tea remained untouched. He held himself too still. Saguru searched the mask for answers, but beyond the fact that he knew he had hit a sore spot, Saguru couldn't tell what Kuroba was thinking.

"Past is past," Kuroba said as if he had not been the one to divert the conversation. "Why are you trying to tell me how to raise my own son?"

Why? Saguru thought about the desperation he'd glimpsed in Takumi's eyes in the unguarded moment he'd shown. Takumi wasn't the first child he'd seen torn between two parents, and he wouldn't be the last, but Saguru knew that sort of emotion on an intimate level.

"Kuroba…I was born in Japan and moved to Britain when I was six years old."

"And?"

"Despite being a Japanese citizen, I have never once been seen as Japanese."

"Well you're British…" Confusion showed in Kuroba's eyes though the mask didn't flicker. Saguru mustered his patience.

"Until I was six, I never questioned that I was Japanese."

"Seriously, Hakuba, where are you going with this?"

"My point, Kuroba," Saguru said in a clipped voice, "is that when I was eight, I wondered why my mother lived in London while my father lived in Japan. They claimed to still love each other, but the children in my first grade class called attention to how odd it was that they lived half a world apart. No one else in my class flew halfway around the world on holidays to visit another parent. No one else had moved halfway across the world in the middle of their first year of primary school." He took a breath. "My point, Kuroba, is that I asked and asked and asked, but my parents never gave me a satisfactory answer. And do you know what I eventually figured out? My mother moved to England because I did not do well in school in Japan. Because when I started school in Japan, I was not Japanese, no matter what my birth certificate said or who my father was. My parents decided it was better for me to grow up in London and fly to Japan on holidays because I wouldn't have a good childhood in Japan and Father couldn't leave the job he spent half a lifetime working toward."

Saguru leaned forward, staring Kuroba down as Kuroba remained impassive and tense. "It would have been nice to talk about this as a child. Because their effort to keep me from knowing why made me feel even worse when I found out it was for my sake. And Takumi-kun isn't stupid, Kuroba. He's going to keep digging. And digging. And he is going to find something out whether you want him to or not, and he will not be happy when he finally does learn the truth." Saguru leaned even further until Kuroba leaned back and Saguru's leg twinged from supporting him half-standing. "And you really do not want him blaming himself for the failure of his parents' relationship."

"Fuck off, Hakuba," Kuroba said, anger finally leaking through the mask. "You have no place to judge how I raise my son."

"I don't," Saguru agreed. "I am not Takumi-kun's parent, I am only his English teacher. But I am your friend and as such I would like for your son to be safe and healthy, and we both know that if he digs—and he will because he is very much your and Aoko's child—he could get himself and you into danger." Saguru sat back down in his chair heavily as his knee chose that moment to give out. Kuroba eyed him, still scowling. Saguru let a breath hiss through his teeth and forcefully picked his teacup up. "Drink your damned tea, Kuroba."

After a long pause, Kuroba picked up his teacup. Saguru let himself relax. Kuroba hadn't run and he hadn't shut Saguru down. He was angry, but he was listening. Thinking. Kuroba took a sip of his tea.

"Takumi asked if I was a murderer?" Kuroba asked, subdued.

"Not in so many words." Saguru took a long swallow of tea and massaged at his knee as the pain went from stabbing to aching, jittery tingles. "It was more that he observed that Aoko would only have left if she deemed something unforgivable, and he was having trouble picturing any other option."

"Unforgivable, huh?" Kuroba stared into his teacup. He snorted. "I suppose lying about being an internationally wanted thief counts."

"To be fair, I believe it was the lying more so than the actual thievery that Aoko had a problem with."

Kuroba rolled his eyes. "No. She only hated Kid the entirety of our high school years. However could that have been the issue?"

Saguru lifted an eyebrow.

Kuroba sighed. "No, it was a combination of the two. I don't really blame her for not being able to trust me."

"But you still care for each other."

"Yeah." He laughed hollowly. "I've never loved anyone else."

"Mm." The doughnuts lay abandoned between them. It felt like a metaphor. Something sweet ruined by bitter memories. "I meant it in that I am not trying to tell you how to raise your child, Kuroba. I merely feel that you need to be aware of what Takumi-kun is thinking on this matter. He is frustrated. He was willing to turn to me to learn more. I imagine that is the only reason he accepts me at all."

"Don't tell him why."

"I won't. How often must I say that I have no intention of telling the world that you are Kid for you to believe it?"

"Well," Kuroba said with a bit of humor returning to his voice, "you did yell it to the world back in high school."

"I would like to think we have both matured since then," Saguru said primly.

Kuroba laughed under his breath. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you." He finished off his lukewarm tea and set the cup back in its saucer. "I keep feeling like I'm messing up as a parent and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"Apology accepted," Saguru said, inwardly marveling that he had gotten one at all. "I don't think anyone can be sure that they are doing their job as a parent well."

"Maybe." Kuroba stood up in a sudden burst of movement. "Thanks for the tea, but I should probably call Aoko."

Saguru blinked at him. Normally they would sit and chat a while longer before either sharing a meal or parting ways for the evening before it reached that time. "Of course."

Kuroba smiled, a there and gone flash of teeth. "No need to get up, I'll let myself out."

He at least took the door this time. More than once, Saguru knew he'd taken the window when he wasn't paying close attention. Saguru set down his empty cup and looked at the box of abandoned doughnuts. He'd done the right thing to bring it up, but he couldn't help wishing it could have been another day of talking about meaningless things and enjoying each other's company.