This story doesn't suit the remaining prompts, but I liked the idea very much. So I decided to write and post it regardless.


Kaito was roused rather rudely by the slam of a door and jerked instantly, his flight instincts kicking in. The movement caused his chair to topple over and only his good reflexes saved him from crashing: With a swift twitch of his hand he caught the table plate in front of him and stabilized the tilted chair. He giggled quietly, relief flooding through him.
No need to panic, I'm in Aoko's kitchen, save ground, it wasn't a gunshot. Must have dozed off for some – he checked the wall clock – seconds.
"Geez, Aoko," he said aloud, "you're such a clumsy oaf somet-" Kaito stopped in midsentence when Nakamori-keibu entered the room instead of his daughter. "Err ... hi, Occhan!"
The man grunted at him, a grouchy noise that wasn't meant as unfriendly as it sounded, as Kaito knew from experience. Nakamori's gaze wandered through the kitchen, over the school work that was spread out on the kitchen table, and finally reached the coffee machine. He dropped his briefcase in a careless, almost disgusted manner, and made a beeline for aforementioned coffee machine. Observing this, Kaito couldn't help but feel a small pang of sympathy for the inspector. After-heist days were always tough, but it must be even worse for the cops than for himself: He could go to bed right after his thefts (it didn't help much because of the adrenaline overload he always felt in the aftermath, but at least he could get some rest), while the cops had to work all night long often enough – preservation of evidence, witness statements, paperwork – these things were time-consuming as hell. And the inspector wasn't that young anymore.
Kaito didn't bother to talk, just turned the page of his chemistry book and stared at the text without reading it. Silence filled the room, intermitted only by the coffee maker's soft sounds. The pleasant smell of fresh brewed coffee reached Kaito's nostrils and he found himself wondering why he liked the smell of coffee although he couldn't stand the taste of it.
"Where's Aoko?" Nakamori asked suddenly.
"In her room. We've been doing our homework, but then Keiko called. Guess they're talking about girly stuff." Kaito shuddered exaggeratedly.
Nakamori didn't answer at first. He silently poured some coffee in his cup and walked to the table, taking a seat across from Kaito. "Guess the girly stuff will take some time," he said then. The atmosphere seemed to shift and Kaito glanced up from his book to make eye contact. The inspector smiled grimly at him. "There's something I wanted to discuss with you, Kaito-kun."
Kaito's alarm bells started ringing. Oh no, please don't let it be a conversation about my relationship to Aoko!
Some months ago, his mother had lectured him about contraception and it had been unpleasant, disturbing, terrible, torturous. He wasn't sure whether he could bear a conversation along similar lines with Aoko's father of all people.
"Yeeeees?" he drawled against his better judgment. He felt his flight instincts rising once more, but he fought them down. Self-discipline, he needed self-discipline.
Again, the old man didn't answer instantly. He just took a sip of his coffee and stared piercingly at Kaito. What the heck was this, an interrogation technique? His Kid mask tried to slip over Kaito's face, but he held it back. He wasn't Kid here, he was Kuroba Kaito, an innocent and clueless teenager – still awesome and admirable of course, but his Kaito persona would be unsettled by this situation for sure. So he put some nervousness in his features and body language – it wasn't too feigned anyway. The geezer was better than he had thought.
"I know what you've done," Nakamori said finally.
Kaito opened his mouth to tell the old man that he wasn't in love with Aoko at all, but this statement caught him off-guard. And it was dangerously ambiguous, too. It could refer to the emerald he'd stolen yesterday night, to his habit to flip Aoko's skirts (but then he would say "I know what you're doing" and not "I know what you've done", wouldn't he?!), to the sofa cushion he'd ruined with ketchup and to a dozen other things. Stalling tactics, he needed to stall time.
He blinked at Nakamori in apparent confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Nakamori narrowed his eyes. "I know you had a good reason to do it," he went on (A good reason to do what?, Kaito thought), "but it's still not right." (What do you mean, dammit?) "Stealing is not a trivial offense, you know? It can hurt people."
Kaito's blood ran cold.
Stealing. He'd said stealing.
He knew.
Kaito's alarm bells ringed hysterically, an inner voice screamed at him, told him to run, but he couldn't move. He was glued to the chair and to Nakamori's calm, calculating stare.
Why was he so calm? So sober? Why didn't he throw a tantrum? Somehow this calm version of Nakamori was even worse than his usual ill-tempered self.
Think, he needed to think. A plan, an excuse, something that helped him to shatter the inspector's suspicions. He had several alibis, dammit, how could Nakamori know about his double life as Kaitou Kid of all sudden?
"So, how about you just give it back and we forget about the whole affair?" Nakamori suggested.
And now Kaito was completely lost. He always returned his stolen goods, there was no reason for such a demand. And why would Nakamori "forget about it" willingly?
"Errr ... I'm afraid I still don't know what you're talking about, Occhan."
The man's calm facade shattered and he banged his fist on the table. "Damn, Kaito-kun, don't play dumb with me! In know you took my pipe and hid it somewhere, because Aoko wants me to stop smoking, but I want it back, understood?! It was a gift from my late wife and I hold it dear!"
Later, Kaito would swear that his heartbeat stopped for some seconds.
His pipe?, Kaito's inner voice repeated hysterically. His motherfucking pipe?
Yes, he'd snitched the pipe out of Nakamori's briefcase because Aoko had asked for it, and yes, he'd hidden it, but it had been such a trivial matter to him that he'd forgotten it completely.
"The closet in the hallway, right hand, bottom drawer, between the scarfs and the wool socks. I stuffed it into Aoko's old Hello Kitty sock."
"Good." Nakamori didn't waste any more time; he stood up and went off to fetch his pipe. The moment his feet left the kitchen Kaito let his head fall on the kitchen table, using his chemistry book as a makeshift pillow.
This was close. Sort of.
Nakamori returned, holding his pipe gingerly in his hands.
"You know that Aoko is going to kill us when she realizes that you've retrieved the pipe, don't you?" Kaito asked.
"She won't. I've already organized a duplicate that I put in the sock." Nakamori picked his briefcase up and opened the front pocked. "By the way, Kaito-kun ..." He rummaged around in his bag. "There is another matter I wanted to talk about."
Oh please don't, I deserve a pause, right?
Nakamori pulled a photo out of his briefcase and placed it on the table.
Kaito took it. His hand didn't tremble, but he had a bad feeling about this.
The photo was two weeks old. It showed Aoko and him, lying on the sofa in Nakamori's living room. The TV was running, but the two of them were sound asleep, their limbs tangled together and – oh Kami, was he snuggling Aoko's breasts?
He wasn't sure what shocked him more:
a) the fact that Nakamori had been able to sneak up on him (normally he was very sensible for other people's stares, even in his sleep)
b) the fact that the old man had made a picture of the scene instead of going berserk and chasing him out of the house with a shotgun or
c) the fact that he and Aoko looked so sickeningly lovey-dovey on the photo.
"So ..." Nakamori drawled ominously. He leaned forward until their noses were almost touching.
Pokerface, he needed his pokerface.
"If you hurt my daughter, you'll pay for it," Nakamori said. "Is that clear?"
Kaito gulped audibly. "Crystal clear."
"Good." Nakamori sat down again to drink the rest of his coffee.
Kaito decided that now was a good time to buzz off.
"Err ... I'll be off then." It wasn't his most elegant departure, but he didn't care.
"Alright. Bye, Kaito-kun."
"Bye, Occhan."
He left the kitchen. Five seconds later he stuck his head in at the door. "I forgot my school stuff-"
Nakamori deadpanned at him.
"Ehehehe, I think I'm gonna pick it up later."
And Kaito left the house hastily.


Omake

When he saw them lying on his sofa, holding each other in a tight embrace, his first instinct was to scream. But then he saw their peaceful faces, and his urge to yell at them vanished immediately. Even the boy who always had a certain air of distance and wariness around him looked peaceful and relaxed.
So he didn't scream. He just stood there and watched. And then, merely on a whim, he took a photo. And he wondered whether Mariko and Toichi could see this too.