Case 10 – The First

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"Man, you were not kidding. Your parents are never around." Kaito kicked up into a handstand and managed to take just a few steps on his hands before wincing and rolling smoothly down to lay on his back on the floor, his hand moving over his side lightly.

"Are you capable of just taking it easy? It's barely been three weeks," Shinichi said, glancing down at him from his seat on the couch where he'd been reading a book for school when Kaito had unexpectedly shown up in his sitting room. It made him wonder, not for the first time, what exactly he'd gotten himself into with this relationship, but he had yet to feel any regret about it, so he supposed it didn't really matter.

"I am taking it easy," Kaito promised for what felt like the hundredth time. He wasn't used to people fussing over him, usually because he never let them know anything was wrong, but still, it was nice to know Shinichi cared enough to ask things like that. "I'm skipping classes wherever I can afford to and I'm being careful at work and I get plenty of rest at home the rest of the time." He gave Shinichi a soft smile from the floor.

Shinichi sighed. "By any normal person's standards that's not really 'taking it easy' when you've been shot, but I guess for you that's probably the best I can hope for." He flicked a page over in his book and gave it another disinterested glance. It really was better than grade school homework, but it was still boring. "Anyway, I told you, my parents moved to America. I only see them whenever they happen to visit… which is usually out of the blue and completely unannounced. I've been pretty much on my own since I was fourteen."

Kaito's eyebrows pulled down over a small frown as he considered that. Shinichi apparently didn't think much of his parents' absence – like it was normal or something. True, Chikage traveled a lot, but she always came home after a few weeks, and even when she was away, they'd talk almost every day. Shinichi didn't seem to get so much as a phone call from his parents – not that he seemed to want one. Kaito tucked his hands behind his head and stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "I just can't imagine that," he said.

Shinichi gave up pretending to read and set the book aside. "What's your family like?"

"It's just me and my mom," Kaito answered easily. "Oyaji was…" He stopped and Shinichi saw the moment of deliberation on his face before he abruptly came to a decision. "You know what?" he said, tilting his head back to give Shinichi a cheery, upside-down smile. "Do you wanna come see my place?"

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They took a taxi to Kaito's house on Shinichi's insistence. The little house was surprisingly ordinary-looking, and he recognized the junky car parked there as one he'd seen out front of the hospital the night Nakamori had been attacked, but he didn't comment, having decided to let the issues of that night go. He followed Kaito through the door.

"Duck," Kaito said casually, and Shinichi ducked immediately, more on edge than he'd realized to be walking into Kaitou KID's house.

Apparently, his instincts were not misplaced. Kaito reached over him and adjusted something on a shelf just inside the door. When Shinichi looked back at it, there was nothing strange he could see, but he noticed Kaito making similar adjustments as he moved farther into the house. Shinichi yanked off his shoes and followed after him, glancing around carefully as he went.

"Here," Kaito said. He went into his room and dragged a box out of his closet, pulled a large envelope from it, and handed it to Shinichi.

"What's this?" He took it and, after a pointed nod from Kaito, opened it to pull out a thin stack of papers – newspaper clippings, magazine articles, even printouts and a few old photographs. Each seemed to be centered around the famous magician Kuroba Toichi.

Shinichi's eyes flickered up from the pages to Kaito who had eased himself onto the bed and was leaning back against the wall. He gave Shinichi a small smile that did not reach his eyes and Shinichi hesitantly went back to the articles, scanning through them until he came to the last in the stack, from a newspaper dated almost eleven years ago. He stared down at it for a long time in silence, reading the cold, distant description of a stage accident that had taken the great magician's life. When he reached the end and looked again at Kaito, the thief's face was a blank mask.

"This… wasn't actually an accident," Shinichi stated.

Kaito's eyes shifted over to Shinichi's face and he gave one slow, carefully controlled nod.

"He was the first Kaitou KID."

Another nod.

Realization sank in slowly, turning his stomach as the full effect of it hit him. "…This is why you make a target out of yourself. You're not just looking for something. You're trying to lure them out. You're…" He dropped into the desk chair, setting the papers carefully aside, his mind racing to pull all of the pieces together.

"Tell me you haven't been doing this alone," Shinichi demanded. "Tell me someone knows what you've been doing all this time."

"My old man's assistant," Kaito said. "He helps me out on a lot of my heists. And my mom knows too."

Shinichi dragged a hand over his face and leaned back against the chair. "You really are insane."

"Why?" Kaito snapped and Shinichi actually jumped a little. He had never seen Kaito – or KID – react so defensively to anything before. He opened his mouth to elaborate but defeated himself at every turn and in the end found nothing worth voicing. Really, Kaito wasn't doing anything he wouldn't have done himself, but he didn't apologize for what he'd said and he didn't take it back. Instead, he just said, "I want to hear the whole story."

There was no criticism or judgment in the words. There was no demand or force to them. Just an earnest desire to know the truth. Kaito stared back in silence for a long while, and Shinichi waited, but eventually he relaxed and let the small, sad smile return as he began the story.

"It started in Paris, twenty-one years ago…"