Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan or Magic Kaito. But I do own my fingers and personal muscle pain.
Prologue:
Don't.
Rain.
The only thing that separates them like an invisible caveat to stay away from each other as far away as they could, freezing their feet on the cold hard roof floor beneath. His only mercy that the other figure didn't have was the forgiving shelter of the roof door canopy.
Calm.
Everything he felt anything but. Chest pounding erratic, it's hard to breathe as every intake felt suffocating. The eyes under that hat and monocle, the ones he couldn't see, felt intense nonetheless, and he could feel it—the burning curiosity, the thirst, the accusation. God, how it burns. He instinctively took a step back.
Wrong move. He should know better.
He didn't know what possessed the thief, but as soon as he steps back, he was already on him, shoving his back harshly to the steel door aback it stole his breath away. Strong grip held his arms above his head tightly, wet from the rain, cold to the touch.
"Kid—!"
"Hush, Tantei-kun." the pure ice-cold tone killed any protest Shinichi wanted to scream out. To deny, to refute, to simply say something—anything. Lie, shout, scream, cry—anything! Don't let him speak, don't let him talk, don't let him ask—
"Why are you hiding from me?"
Shinichi's breath hitched, his eyes involuntary shut to give a moment of false insurance under the darkness behind his eyelids, to let himself wish this was all just a dream and when he opened his eyes, the usual ceiling of his shared room with Kogoro would greet him.
The thief was still there. Hand still holding him secure.
"What are you hiding, Shinichi?"
The sudden fight and flight instinct took another level to the extreme. Shinichi didn't know where the abrupt genius idea to bang his head against the thief was, but he praised himself nonetheless as the thief cried in pain he instinctively let go of Shinichi to nurse his possible broken nose—shit, is that blood?—wobbling a step to make space for Shinichi's escape.
Burying the guilt under the deepest part of his mind, Shinichi didn't waste his time opening the door and jump two spaces on every stair he stepped on. The only thing he could think of was either 'run, run, run!' or 'shit, I'm screwed!', or a more tamed one 'FUCK!'. Praying to every god he could think of, Shinichi just hoped at least he could run to a more crowded floor where the thief couldn't possibly make a scene and Shinichi could make a better plan of escape, avoiding the thief.
Shinichi wanted to hit his head with something. Why that damn thief had to be so sharp? And why did Shinichi run exactly? Running only makes himself look guilty. The thief was just curious, right? But the heavy undertone of icy accusation on his name, god how the thief said his name ran his blood cold.
Forget about wishing for escape, he desperately wished for an explanation. Forget logic, forget science, he needed—Shinichi needed insight, damn it. Nothing made any sense! There was no explanation about this. About what happened to him in the last few days.
When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth—ring heavily in his head. But, god, it's hard. It's harder to accept than becoming seven years old again. And as much as Shinichi wanted to deny that he desperately wanted to cry, he just couldn't because, no—
He wasn't asking for this. He didn't chase after trouble. He didn't even have himself to blame. And to make matter worse, he doesn't have any clue how or what exactly happened to him.
Well, it's not entirely true, because Shinichi actually suspected something. The pieces and clues were everywhere, but the denial was a brick of wall protecting his sanity from…whatever happened to him. If he accepts—god, no—if he admits it, then all of this, coming to this foreign country on a European archipelago for the sake of Haibara's mental health, was all a huge mistake. And Shinichi doesn't want that. Because Haibara deserves the one in a lifetime vacation where Black Organization was the least of their mind. And in no absolute way would he curse this trip on the country Kingdom of Cremona.
But the denial would crumble at some point and that thought was exactly what motivates Shinichi to blindly run down the stairs faster, trying to reach one of the closest emergency doors—
There!
Shinichi almost sagged in relief momentarily his knees buckled, nearly tumbling down the stairs. Fingers already clamping on the door handle, Shinichi yelped when suddenly he was shoved down, headbanged painfully against the floor. Groaning at the throbbing ache on his head, Shinichi half aware of the gloved hand that clasped tightly on his joined wrist. He was a second too late realizing his predicament he lost the chance to kick himself free. His feet were already pressed under the thief's leg. Undeniably trapped.
Face paling, cerulean blue met arctic indigo.
Both busy catching their own breath, the sound of their harsh breathing sounded deafening under the heavy silence that penetrates the air. Body tensing, Shinichi halted the thought of thrashing wildly when KID lowered himself down. Almost nose to nose with the thief, Shinichi noticed their seemingly similar eyes were slightly different in color. Shaking himself awake inwardly, Shinichi stole glances at the door behind the thief's shoulder from the corner of his eyes. Just mere two feet away! Mind racing, Shinichi planed and simulating ways and scenario, potential scheme, doable stunt as to free himself from the thief's clutch without headbutting said thief for the second time and further increasing the odds of real nose inju—
"Don't even think about it, Tantei-kun," the thief grip tightened by a low margin, exclaiming his point. Shinichi hissed slightly. Oh, he's thinking all about it, alright. "For once, I think our roles are reversed tonight. And as much as I love the thrill of the chase, I wouldn't let go for a second time before I receive the answers to my questions." Poker face long since forgotten, Shinichi's breath hitched under KID's burning gaze. Searching desperately for the usual playful smirk and arrogant demeanor the thief commonly exuded as a mask, Shinichi panicked when he found none of them there.
"So, Shinichi," No, not the name. His name coming out from the thief's mouth felt like a heavy burden. Suffocating him, pressing, chocking, crushing. Stop, just stop, he knew nothing, pretend it was nothing. Stop. Don't ask, don't do this, don't—
KID's grip tightened.
"Why hide from the moonlight, my dear Tantei-kun?"
A/N
It wasn't supposed to either start or end like that, but…
Meh.
The hands have a mind of their own, I suppose.
I love Shinichi, I swear.