Glazed blue eyes stared blankly over the roof railing looking out at the glowing buildings of Tokyo as if they had never seen them before. Perhaps they hadn't, he could exactly remember right now. Maybe he was brand new to the city, a tourist or a new resident.
But when he let his gaze trace the streets their names popped into his head easily, from where exactly he wasn't sure but they were there and they sounded very familiar. Could he have memorized a map?
He shifted his arms before looking down to stare at them. They were smaller than the last time he had seen them, but that didn't make sense. They were the right size for his body. Small, frail, and weak. They were a child's arms but he was a child. He was short, so short he had to stand on his tip toes so he could rest his arms on the top of the railing and see over them, and he was weak, his muscles were thin and soft like they were unused to work.
But that wasn't right either! He could remember the feeling of running in a multitude of different places, different scenes, different situations. His could remember chasing a soccer ball down a field and scoring goals. But he doubted he could even run up a flight of stairs with the way his muscles felt now.
He frowned as the frustrations chased each other around in his mind. He was short but he was supposed to be tall. He was weak but he had run all the time. He knew this city like the back of his hand but he couldn't for the life of him recall any memories of a life here.
A sigh blew out of his lips. Ok, let's look at this rationally. He was a child. He was weak. He didn't know where he was or where he was supposed to go. The blanks in his memories were large and there were only flashes of those that he did remember. He didn't know his name.
His body tensed as he thought of the last bullet point.
Of course he knew his name. It was simple. … Or was it complex? Maybe he was named after someone? No one came to mind. A traditional name? Some new modern sounding name? Did it have a special meaning? His father was smart so there must be a meaning…
Was his father smart? Was his mother? They had to be, right?
Oh god! He couldn't even recall his parent's faces!
He could feel panic start to grip him. No, no he couldn't let himself panic.
Ok, stick to what you do know. He paused. He knew he liked soccer and… that he liked to read. Well, that was helpful.
He lifted his arms off of the railing before twisting around to lean against them. With a sigh he slid down until he was sitting, not really caring how the extra fabric of the too-big pants he wore tangled in his legs. When he leaned his head back his skull connected with the bunched up cloth of his jacket, which was better suited to someone much older than himself as it just hung off of him.
So he had no idea who he was, where he was, or if anyone was expecting him.
"…Great." He sighed, the high soprano of his childish voice making him flinch. He shivered and pulled the waves of clothing tighter around him for warmth. The night air could apparently cut through anything because he only shivered more.
An odd sound, like someone pulling apart the sections of a wind instrument, made him twitch before he just decided to ignore it. It wasn't until a hand ran through his hair did he look up blearily.
The sight of the man dressed completely in white didn't seem to faze him although he did try to get his eyes to focus. Damn, when had he gotten this tired?
"Oh good, you're awake." The man said as he stood up, balancing perfectly on the rail, before jumping down to crouch next to him. "I was afraid you were unconscious."
The child blinked slowly before turning his head away, snuggling into the clothing surrounding him again. This man didn't look like he wanted to hurt him and he was just so tired.
"Oi, kid." The man's gloved hand moved to touch his shoulder. "Are you ok?"
"…" He lifted his head again just enough to give the man a deadpanned what-do-you-think look.
"What are you doing up here?" The man asked, his hand moving to cup the child's cheek. He shrugged sleepily before leaning into the man's touch. Warm…
"… Alright." The man sighed before scooping the child up, holding him close to his chest. The boy sighed in contentment and clutched at his suit jacket. "Come on then. I can't leave you here."
The boy let out an unintelligible mumble as his eyes slipped closed missing when the man jumped onto the railing again before diving off of the building.
(Can you guess who's who? POV change: Kaito, time: morning!)
Kaito narrowed his eyes as he watched the boy in front of him sleep. The child was buried deeply into the multiple blankets the thief had piled over him.
Honestly, when he had gone out to taunt his Task Force and deliver a new heist note he hadn't expected that he would also be picking up a new roommate. Albeit an adorably cute roommate.
The child had looked so lost and alone that he couldn't help but take him home with him. It was that stupid hurt-animal-and/or-child weakness he had always had. One look from those pretty blue eyes and Kaito's will had folded fast.
Oh well, it's not like mom will mind. He thought with a shrug. He stood and stretched before glancing down at the boy again.
His eyes softened as he observed how the child's bangs hung just above his eyes, ruffling slightly every time he let out a breath. As he watched he couldn't help but compare the boy to the porcelain dolls his mother liked to collect.
After a moment he decided to go grab some breakfast from the kitchen, he was sure that when the kid woke up he would be hungry. Of course, he wouldn't mind a bite to eat as well. One more glance at the boy sleeping in the bed and he left as quietly as he could.
(Wow that was short. Anyway, let's try a narrator POV.)
It was warm. It was warm and comforting and soft. He shifted in the warmth around him, snuggling deeper into the nice smelling softness that was wrapped around him as he tried to get away from the light that seeped through his eyelids.
… Wait. Since when were rooftops warm and soft?
One blue eye cracked open and slowly traced its gaze around the room blearily. The walls were light blue with a few posters of magicians and the carpeting was a faded gray. Apart from the bed he was laying, which was shoved into the corner beside the window, there was a bookshelf that was against the wall that was facing the end of the bed and a desk which was next to the bookshelf. There was also a closet that he suspected was a walk-in though he couldn't confirm his theory because the white french doors were shut. There were a few pieces of clothing strewn over the floor and the desk was covered in open notebooks and blueprints.
It looked like a high schooler's room.
The boy sighed before sluggishly lifting himself into a sitting position. He supposed he should have been panicking; he was in an unfamiliar room with no idea how he got there but he was sure that any room would have been unfamiliar. He assumed that the man in white who had taken him from the roof had brought him here. Was this his bed?
The boy frowned and was making to get off bed but halted when the door opened.
The teenager that came in was wearing a casual black t-shirt with some kind of band logo printed on it and some light blue jeans. In his hand he carried a tray that had what appeared to be a plate of pancakes and a glass of orange juice. The child blinked when he caught sight of the monocle which was covering the other's right eye, a charm with a clover mark on it dangling from its outside rim. The teen's hair effectively covered his eyes in shadow so well that the boy could only guess he had done it on purpose.
"Good morning, sleepy head!" The teen said happily when he saw the child sitting up. "Are you feeling better? You looked pretty bad last night."
"… I'm fine." The boy murmured. The teen grinned and placed the tray on the bed. "I suppose I should thank you for helping me."
"Eh, you can if you want but I don't need you to." The older boy shrugged, moving over to the desk and tugging the chair over to the bed. "I couldn't just leave an injured child on a rooftop alone."
"Injured?" The child blinked in confusion.
"You don't know?" The monocled boy paused in surprise. "You had a pretty big cut on the back of your head."
"Really?" The kid raised a hand to touch the white bandage that was wrapped around his head. …That would explain a lot.
"Doesn't it hurt?" The older boy raised his hand to touch the boy's head but paused before lowering it again.
"No." I can't understand why though if it warranted this kind of bandaging.
"Hmm…" The teen narrowed his eyes then shrugged. "Alright."
"Do you mind if I ask your name, niisan?" The boy asked.
"You don't know who I am?"
"Should I?" The teen blinked before barking out a laugh.
"I'm called Kaitou KID." The child narrowed his eyes at the cleverly made, but still fake, smile.
"Ok, so what is your real name?" The man laughed again.
"Oh, I like you, bouya. But I do have to ask what you will do when you have my name? Will you go to the police?"
"Why would I?" The child asked with a blink of surprise.
"I am a famous, or is it infamous, phantom thief." KID shrugged.
"…" The boy narrowed his eyes in thought before shaking his head. "No, I wouldn't. You don't seem like the type to cause any real harm."
"… Alright then. My name is Kuroba Kaito." The thief sighed after a moment watching the boy with narrowed eyes.
"Nice to meet you Kaito-niichan." The child smiled, not noticing the hitch in the man's breath at the expression. It wasn't really fair that the child could be that cute.
"May I have your name?" Kaito asked politely. The boy paused while a sad and slightly nervous frown passed over his face. He had been trying to remember anything about himself but he just couldn't. His mind was like a chalk board someone had messily cleaned, he had small slivers of memory but most of it had been seemingly erased.
"… I can't remember." He sounded lost which he supposed he was.
"Anything?" Kaito frowned in worry. The boy shook his head.
"Nothing, except that I like soccer and reading." He said. He wouldn't mention that feeling that he was too small.
"Do you have any thoughts on what your name might be?" Kaito asked.
"No." The boy paused and narrowed his eyes. What was that name he had seen on the book's cover? Sir - Conan -… "The only name I can remember is Conan. It was part of the name of an author."
"… Could it have been Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?" Kaito watched as the boy's face morphed into a smile.
"Yes! That was it!" His mind raced to fill in the name on the cover. "I was reading the Sign of Four. It was my favorite."
"Really?" Kaito frowned. Those were some complex books, extremely difficult if not impossible too understand for a child of the boy's age.
"Un." The boy nodded brightly.
"Do you mind if I call you Conan then?" Kaito smiled.
"I guess I don't mind." The newly named Conan shrugged. Kaito grinned before leaning over to wrap the boy in a large hug. Conan squeaked when the teen pulled him into his lap and cuddled him.
"Great! I've always wanted a little brother!" Kaito cheered, giving Conan a big grin when he pushed away from his chest enough to glare up at him.
"Who said anything about me being your 'little brother'." Conan yelled. Kaito leaned forward and rubbed his nose against Conan's in an Eskimo kiss.
"To late Co-chan! I've made up my mind!" Kaito laughed when Conan narrowed his eyes and growled. After a second he sighed in exhaustion before burying his face in the other's chest.
"… Thank you." The boy's voice was muffled but Kaito had no trouble hearing him.
"No problem." Kaito nuzzled into the boy's hair, pressing a light kiss to the boy's head. After a moment he jumped up, lifting Conan so he was holding him against his side. "Now let's go see if my mom saved any of my cloths from when I was a kid, that shirt must be drafty."
Conan blinked blankly at him before glancing down and turning bright red. He was dressed only in a rather large t-shirt and a baggy pair of boxers.
Kaito laughed when the mortified boy tried to hide his face in the crook of Kaito's neck. Oh, he just loved this kid! This is gonna be fun!
-I know you're naked under all of those cloths. Slut.-
Have any of you ever read those Amnesia!Conan ficcies? I think there are about four on this sight… at least the ones that are Kaishin. (Sorry if there are any typos. I didn't feel up to doing anything other than spellchecking.)
Ahem. I don't know how Conan got on the roof. Magic?
Poison: 'Cause that could totally happen…
Quiet nonbeliever!
Hoshi: I like the starting…
Yeah, sorry if it didn't seem to flow after the 8th or 9th paragraph. I had to go do something and I lost some of my steam.
Hua: I think Conan gave in a bit to easily at the end…
*shrugs* Well he does have amnesia…. And Kaito just gave him a place to stay. He's humoring him.
Sketchy: Forever status is….?
*coughs* After I post this I'll only work on the second Forever chapter… at least until writers block decides to pay a visit…
All: Since she hasn't said it in a while…
My ownership of characters is limited to OCs. I have no claim to Kuroba Kaito, Kaitou KID, Kudou Shinichi, or Edogawa Conan; they are property of Gosho-sensei. … I guess I own my AU'verses too… Right?