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Summary: In which Kaito and Shinichi avoid asking the questions they really want to know, and ask the less important things instead.
"I didn't kill them," Kudo leans his head back, voice hoarse as he closes his eyes. He shudders, a cough building in his chest. "I'm telling the truth, I swear."
Kaito struggles to think - The other could be lying, but the way he whispers is too genuine. Or rather, it sounds genuine, and Kaito doesn't want to overthink it, because how nice would it be if it were true? He decides to believe in the ex-detective, it's too much effort not to.
He smiles to himself, laughs under his breath.
Kudo opens his eyes, glances over at him, at the grin that's wormed it's way onto the thief's face. And he pales, well, most of him does - his neck remains splotchy, red and purple spreading across skin like a child's painting.
"I'm not laughing at you," Kaito says after a moment, his own eyes widening. "I believe you, but… just, what're the chances, you know? What are the chances that they'd arrest the wrong man and-"
He falters.
"We obviously need to talk about this," he continues, "but we also need to get you to the infirmary, okay?"
Kudo waves him away, gives a weak smile and rasps, "I'll be fine. Let's go back to the cell."
He grasps at the wall as he stands up, trying to stand on shaky legs. Kaito catches Kudo when he staggers, lifting one arm to settle around his shoulder, using his other arm to hoist him up.
"Don't be stupid Kudo," he says. The tone is not quite scolding, but it's wrapped with concern, is harsh enough that it lets the other know he won't take any nonsense. "You need to double check that it's nothing internal."
When he opens his mouth to respond, Kudo chokes on air. It hurts to hear - he wonders just how much it hurts Kudo, to feel that. Kaito gives him a look that tells him all his arguments are meaningless and that he'll drag him to the infirmary if he needs to.
Or carry him there, it'll probably be quicker.
"It's probably nothing," Kudo rasps when they're halfway down the corridor.
Kaito scoffs, "sure it isn't. It's not like being strangled is a big issue or anything. Of course not. It's not like this would have any future implications at all."
The other boy scowls, but doesn't protest again. Instead, he leaves Kaito to a sullen silence, letting him muse over what he's learnt. Kudo's going to die - which isn't an option, not if he's innocent. That leads to the question, why is the detective in prison in the first place?
Obviously, he's been framed. But why would anyone make it seem as if he's committed the murder of six people, especially when it's so contradictory to who he is as a person? He used to solve murders for Christ's sake - why would someone want to lead the public into believing he's guilty?
Unless…
No, he'll leave the theory until later, will wait until Kudo tells him what he thinks.
It's not coincidence that Kudo was thrown into prison, so there must be a reason behind it, and who better to tell him then the victim himself.
It's not long before they reach the infirmary. Kaito bundles Kudo inside, passes him over to the nurse and explains that he needs urgent care, right now, and that he should probably stay overnight to monitor his symptoms.
Kudo sends him a glance of disbelief, and only gets a shrug in response. His brows furrow as Kaito leads him over to a spare hospital bed, setting him down and looking at his neck. There are little red pinpoint spots - Petechiae - where fingers have squeezed against skin and worry flares in him, hot and boiling like rage but not quite.
"KID… I… Uh… thank you." Kudo mumbles as he shuffles against the sheets, trying to find a comfortable position. His hands bunch the blankets in his hand, and he looks almost as if he is curling in on himself, even if he's not moved much.
"Kaito."
"Huh?"
Kaito leans forward, trademark grin forcing its way onto his face. He says, "I think we're at the point where you can call me by my name. So… call me Kaito from now on, okay?"
Kudo's go wide. "I-"
"I'll call you Shinichi in return," Kaito continues, nodding to himself and turning around. "So, let's succeed with this escape of ours, alright?"
"Y-yeah."
The nurse decides to keep Shinichi in the infirmary overnight, much like Kaito had thought, just to keep watch and make sure the swelling stops without further injury. She hands him some inflammatory drugs, offering him a smile, before leaving them to focus on other patients.
Kaito stays for as long as he can, sitting against the wall. He thinks of different ways of trying to escape, wonders whether Shinichi's 'contact' would be able to get them floor plans, whether they could get him something better to pick locks with than the hair grips that he keeps hidden in his hair.
"The guard," Kaito says, when he's certain that the nurse is out of hearing range, "what are the limitations on what we can ask for?"
Shinichi leans forward, glancing over at him. His brows furrow and for a moment, he looks the part of the detective he used to be, eyes narrowed in thought. It's almost nice to see, Kaito thinks, regardless of the fact he usually hates law enforcement and detectives.
He should re-evaluate that, he decides. It might be that he simply hates Hakuba and has been assuming all over teenage detectives are as stuck up as he is.
"Can't be metal," Shinichi croaks, pausing to sip at some water. He winces as he swallows, but otherwise, he doesn't seem to be in too much pain, "it's got to be small, nothing that can't fit in his pocket or under any clothes."
"Hmm," Kaito says. If they can't bring in metal, then guards probably need to go through metal detectors every time they enter the prison. It's not odd, he himself has to go through some every time he leaves the west workshop to ensure he doesn't take anything out with him. Not that he has to worry in the evening, when the power is out. "Can he get the prison's building plans to us?"
Shinichi nods, "It shouldn't be too hard."
"Good," Kaito grins, pumps his fist in the air, "and a pencil."
48 days until March the 3rd and Oto-san manages to get them both a pencil and some building plans. During this time, Shinichi somehow talks a guard into bringing him a torch - 'For the evenings, because I just want to read some nights' - and Kaito doesn't ask how, because he doesn't quite want to know what the other prisoner has done to acquire it.
He spends the day jittery, feeling like they shouldn't be waiting until lights out to look at the plans, even though he knows that they need to make sure the paper doesn't get confiscated.
In the end, he spends more time outside than he should, bouncing with energy. While Shinichi sits and watches him, he practises acrobatics, reminding himself of the time when he spent days practising front walkovers and dive rolls until his muscles are sore and he's certain that he can perform them without any failure, like he used to at heists.
He repeats back walkovers until he's confident that he won't stumble, before grinning over at Shinichi. When he's finished, Kaito collapses beside the other detective, closing his eyes and settling his breathing.
"You did gymnastics when you were younger?" Shinichi asks. He seems more relaxed around Kaito now, which is nice, if not a little odd with the countdown over his head.
Kaito hums, "I always had to much energy, apparently. Gymnastics was meant to wear me out."
Shinichi lets out a dry laugh, "I can't imagine you without all that energy."
"You've seen me without it," Kaito sighs, massaging his hands from stones have pressed against skin. Even the best spots in the yard aren't rock free - he's lucky that he's not cut into his hand. "I mean, after that phone call I had."
He's still not sure, even after a week of wondering, what Aoko had meant, and while he wants to know how to make things right, every time he thinks back on it, it leaves him wallowing in regret and a strange sense of self-pity. He doesn't feel any different when he's acting as KID as opposed to Kaito, and maybe that's the problem, maybe he's just too involved to find any answers.
"…Who did you call?" Shinichi asks, hesitancy clouding each word.
"A friend," Kaito turns his head away, bites on his tongue, "my best friend. She hasn't really taken well to me being KID."
An understatement, Kaito knows. He just doesn't have the words to explain how betrayed Aoko had looked when he'd been dragged away, the ashy pallor of her skin, the way she'd cried that it was another one of KID's tricks as he'd been forced into the police car, despite his cheeks having been pinched for any masks he could have been wearing.
It had been on that night that Kaito had finally understood why people hated silence - because it's never just quiet. Maybe no one had said anything inside the police car but it certainly hadn't been noiseless. His thoughts had exploded, ricochet against every corner of his mind. The had not been a moment in that patrol car where he had not replayed Aoko's cries.
"I don't imagine that it'd be an easy thing to accept." Shinichi says, and Kaito opens his eyes to glance at him, trying to read the emotions across his face - he's been through the same, Kaito knows, except he's lucky enough to have a few people who understand.
Or maybe they don't. He doesn't know.
"She told me that there's a difference between Kaito and KID," Kaito says, sitting up, "but they're both me, and well… I can't see things the same way she does."
Shinichi purses his lips, "some times people see the things they want to see… but it doesn't necessarily make her wrong either."
Yes, because that helps.
"I don't even know why I'm letting it get to me all that much," Kaito sighs, "it's not like I'm going to see her again. As soon as we leave this place, I won't be able to speak to her again - this isn't something I can come back from."
For a moment, none of them speak, then Shinichi says, "maybe that's why you want to know the difference so much, because if you don't figure it out now… you won't afterwards."
Kaito sighs, closes his eyes, and pretends that it's not stressing him out as much as it is. There's so much he wants to do - he wants to figure out what Aoko means, he wants to come up with a daring escape - but most of all, he just wants it to be the evening, so they can read over the building plans and take one step forward to being free.
"I don't know what she wants from me," Kaito says.
Sometimes it feels like there are more questions than answers, that he's unable to interpret anything that's been thrown at him. In the end, the day is not one of beginnings or endings, just a blur of unrest as they trudge through the in between, waiting for their ideas to come to life.
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