Keiko jogged around the evacuation site, red flashlights glowed around, brightening the frightened expressions of those around her, huddled in blankets, seated around the floor with paramedics fussing about, a stream of policemen stood around the scene, keeping gawking onlookers away, whilst she searched for a brunette hair and a pair of blue eyes among the scared faces, but her best friend seemed nowhere to be found, gnawing at her lip, Keiko searched her pockets once more, arriving yet again at the same conclusion.
Her phone was gone.
She couldn't even contact her own friend, even if she were to ask someone for a phone, she didn't know Aoko's number. There was never a need for to memorise it and now she had never felt so hopeless before. Keiko ran around, her legs already tired from carrying Hakuba, and she hoped he was alright. Everything was such a mess, Keiko's heart ached in her chest.
Among the faces around her she couldn't see a single find a pair of blues eyes.
She could only hope.
Please be safe.
Meetings and partings continue to repeat. . .
"Is everyone here?" Taichi called, flicking through the guest list before he gazed around him, some glanced up, shivering, whilst others stared blankly ahead, barely noticing his presence. He cleared his throat, speaking a little louder. "Is anyone missing?"
Silence.
Unnerved, Taichi took in the lack of responses and sighed. Stupid question. They guest list included more than a hundred names, and currently he estimated that roughly half were around him, excluding the few, who required immediate surgical care at the hospital.
Next to him, Tanaka glared at him, openly criticising him but he only stared back, offering her to take the reign and do better, and she rolled her eyes and stormed away, already knowing that it was quite impossible to inform the fire brigade of the quantity of potential missing people when it was unclear how many had had lost their lives in the first place. He could only hope that the first and second line would find all of them whilst they discover and secure the fire.
Taichi rubbed the back of his neck and wondered how such a fine day could have possibly ended up in such a complete disaster.
The radio hidden inside his picket vibrated, a voice crackled underneath the static.
"We have found two girls in the backyard. They seem to be unconscious but luckily uninjured."
Perhaps it wasn't a complete disaster.
Taichi cleared his voice. "Good. Make sure to bring them here."
Ai treaded carefully, her wristwatch pointed inches above the ground, Naomi's flashlight was bright enough to illuminate the entire space, and yet Ai felt safer to have her own torch shining at their backs as she walked behind them, occasionally shining onto their hands whenever they (suspiciously) twitched.
In her opinion, something about this situation wasn't right. It didn't make sense. Why would she go as far as stun-gunning them to lock them up, if she planned to release them anyway?
Rather than it being a practical joke because of some stupid contest, it felt more sinister—a direct intention towards harm, and Ai could tell it was directed at this Junsa-buchō. Her glance lingered at Itsuki. His brows were furrowed slightly, but apart from that his face seemed completely neutral, almost trusting as though he followed Naomi without a second thought.
Thoughtfully, she wrung her bottom lips between her teeth, contemplating her options when they neared the stair case, when from far ahead two figures were heading toward them. Both women, Ai noticed when they came closer, one with glasses and the other with maroon hair. Naturally, she recognised none of them, but her two companions had, since Itsuki's shoulders stiffened and Naomi's lips curled into a sharp smile.
"Pleasure to see you two here." It was the woman with glasses who spoke, and Ai noticed the way Itsuki and the maroon haired exchanged a look,
"Yes, indeed. We were about to leave this building, weren't we?" Naomi said, motioning toward the stair case.
Itsuki nodded, his face twisting a little confused. "Since we only had a short notice, I wasn't able to memorise the building completely. But I was pretty sure the exit was straight ahead." He pointed at the direction, the two women came from, and the woman in glasses frowned.
"No. I'm pretty sure the exit is here, isn't it, Reika?"
"Well, I kind of agree with Itsuki. The nearest exit is there were we came from. If we went down the stairs, we would have to reach the main hall first before we can enter the exit. We would be wasting too much time, especially since we have a kid here." The maroon haired answered, quietly, and Ai couldn't help but frown. If woman knew that much, why would she bother coming all the way here?
"It's because we have a child, we should be taking the stairs," there was impatience clinging to her tone, almost as if the woman in glasses was keeping herself from snapping at her. "We have passed some very unsightly things that we have decided to take a detour, did we not?"
"Maybe. But—" Reika pursed her lips, as if she as purposely being difficult, and Ai had an increasing suspicion that something else was going on here—something she wasn't fully aware about, and yet she had made up her mind. She absolutely did not want to take the stairs.
"But—what?" Naomi asked, a little annoyed. "What's the problem with taking a little detour?"
"Well, for one I have feeling that they are more unsightly things downstairs. We wouldn't traumatise her would, we?" Itsuki said, glancing down at Ai. She stared back, sceptical whether they truly felt concerned for her sake, or simply were scared to advance to the lower floors. Either way, Ai had already decided that she felt unsafe with them.
She wanted to leave—now.
Her gaze lingered at Itsuki. Throughout the conversation, he had been glancing at her now and then, almost as if he feared that she would disappear from her eyesight—she felt the weight of his gaze again, lingering on her, as if he was momentarily lost studying her face. Ai glanced at him, her heart thumped inside her chest and uneasily, and the corners of his lips twitched into a small, as he slightly nodded at her, as if he followed the footwork of her thoughts, and agreed on the flimsy feeling gnawing on her chest that urged her to flee—to get as far as she could from them.
Ai didn't know what it meant, but it was enough for her to charged forward, running past them into the bleak abyss in front of her. She couldn't fathom what awaited her, but anything was better than being caught by a net spread in front of her by suspicious strangers.
Ai rounded the corner, desperately leaving all the shouts and calls for her name behind her, she could still hear the dull sound of footsteps rapidly nearing her, and she pushed herself harder, willed her legs to run faster, and yet a pair of hands still managed to sweep her off her feet.
Ai yelped and tried to struggle but the grip on her only tightened, and after a moment there was laughter ringing in her ear, uneven and quiet, hovering above the grounds on shaky and fearful. "Hurry up!"
"I'm trying!" there was a gasp coming behind him, and Ai tilted her head behind, gazing off his shoulders into the breathless face of the marron haired, falling steps behind them. Farther back, Naomi and the woman in glasses not far off behind them, there was something akin to anger and irritation across their faces, and after a moment, Ai understood that they weren't running with them, but after them.
Ai chewed on her cheeks, slightly wondering what kind of trapped awaited them downstairs, had she not run away.
There was loud gasp from Itsuki, and Ai turned around to stare at the pathway in front of her when a hand suddenly covered her eyes. "Don't look!" Ai moved her head and tried to pry his hand off, but his grip was relentless. "Stop. It's better if you don't see this. What the hell happened here, Reika?"
"I'm sorry," her voice was still so breathless, and Ai figured she was pushing herself too hard, a little bit more and she'll get side stitches. "I couldn't stop him. I don't think I could have even if I wanted to..."
"I figured as much." Itsuki breathed out, and Ai felt a little impatient as she still struggled to tear his hands from her eyes without available. "Just stay still for a while. I'll definitely get you out of here."
Ai wasn't sure whether she should trust his words, but she found that she didn't have another choice. His grip was relentless as he ran down the corridor, almost as if chased by something she didn't entirely understand.
Something she definitely did not understand.
I feel like I'm still just a kid.
Like a faint image. . .
. . .Thrown at the roadside
For Kaito, the plan was simply enough—unoriginal, perhaps, with a possible risk of failure, but it was the only thing his mind could conjure in this moment. Anything else was out of his power to undertake, especially since Hondo was particularly meticulous, bugging up the entire floors. If there was a safe place for him to disguise himself in this forsaken place, it would most likely be the ground floor. In all likelihood, previous explosion damaged the surveillance cameras, but with the influx of firefighters storming the building form the ground floors, that would hardly be a possibility for him.
Kaito had not a single doubt in his mind that Jii-chan recovered the gem. If anything, he only needed to fester a speck of doubt inside the minds of the policemen—a sort of visual illusion that Kid was still out there and not within the hands of the clinicians on site, even if it stained Kid's previous image as chivalrous and splashed a huge blot of ruthless on it. He'd gladly take it on as long as his mother represented as nothing but a victim of his of his cruel ways.
Kaito pushed down the doorknob and barge into the room.
Almost immediately, his eyes zeroed on his decoy, held up by tiny invisible strings, and his fingers dived into his pocket, fingering the hard metal of his card gun when his eyes laid on a familiar pair of blue eyes, staring at him, her eyebrows a little creased.
She was sitting on the floor with her fingers curled the piece of cloths making up his face, as though she had been playing, maybe pulling its visage, plastering her fingerprints around it, but he didn't think it mattered because right now she was staring right at him.
Slowly and completely deliberate, Aoko climbed onto her feet. Her gaze pinned on him, and he realised that there was something off about her expression, the hues of her blue eyes glazed with something he didn't recognised, something strange that didn't exactly match her usually upbeat expression.
"What are you doing here?" she asked at last, tilting to the side, her sapphire watching him listlessly standing at the doorway.
"I could ask you the same." Kaito countered without a second thought, a casual smile on his lips, light and teasing, calming the beating of his heart slamming inside his ribcage a thousand miles per hour, suddenly keenly aware of his childhood friend's presence inside his make-shift lair, and the thought dawned on him; had she hidden behind the furniture without his notice, she would have had busted him.
Right here.
On this spot.
Kaito teared his eyes away from her, drinking in the dark wash walls and the flittering shadows hiding behind the sharp edges and corners of this room, dark and hollow in its midst, chased away under the glow of moonlight illuminating stature of his friend, like the radiant flame of candle, drawing his eyes at her without his intention, and he couldn't help but notice her tousled hair, her wrinkled blouse and tight jeans; its threads unravelling at her knees, stressed from cushioning her falls too many times, and his lips quirked at her clumsiness, at her cute little nose and cupid's bow, receding under the sudden twitch of her lips, stretching not quite into a warm smile, nor into a displeased frown, and his brows furrowed even before he heard her speak, somewhere between her rising intonation and faltering breaths, he knew something was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
He waited anxiously, his palms sweating as he wiped them against his jeans, waiting for her to speak, for her vocal chords to cut through the silence and cut straight at him so he could finally catch the blade of her insecurity before its sharp edge pierced through his heart at her second attempt at slicing him—
"I was waiting for Kid."
What?
She was waiting for Kid?
His face would have put the blankest canvas to shame, the brows arched poignantly high, his lips a little opened and his blue eyes empty, devoid of any thought, almost as if his entire mind was shunned into silence at her recent admission.
And yet it was a simple statement—a voiced desire that didn't entirely need verification considering there were a horde of living bodies outside their perimeter waiting for the exact very person.
And yet it—it couldn't be true.
Never would she wait for Kid.
He knew it.
She hated him.
His brows creased at his forehead, his eyes silently scrutinising her expression. Her face gave nothing away, her lips were still stretched between a half-smile and a taunt line whilst her eyes were expectant, almost as if she was waiting for him, waiting for—what?
What exactly?
What was she waiting for?
A light bulb lit up, a sudden idea plopped inside his mind and Kaito gazed around for a little turf of sandy hair and an annoying smirk, feeling a little silly, but nothing else could explain this bizarre situation—nothing but an annoying detective, goading Aoko into tripping him up, and yet, Kaito was increasingly disappointed (and distressed) that he couldn't find him, because that would mean—
It meant that—
"So, uh," he croaked, swiping his hands on his jeans, as he willed every treacherous thought polluting inside his mind away. "So, I guess, Kid hasn't come yet?"
"No, he did." she shook her head, and yet her sapphire eyes were pinned on him, hard and unwavering. "He came."
"Oh?" he wetted his lips and swallowed, keenly aware that nothing added up, it was highly unlikely that his mother—even in disguise—would meet up and interact with his childhood friend under these conditions. But it was also unimaginable that said childhood friend would fetch at him such an elaborate lie.
Not at least without an ulterior motif.
Not unless she truly doubted him.
Kaito swallowed and glanced away, marvelling at the bed shoved at the other side of the room, and hope that this nightmare would suddenly disappearing after his waking eyes. He shut his eyes tight and opened them, and yet her unwavering glare was still burning holes through him.
Kaito sighed and drove a hand through his hair, deciding to play along—at least until the fog clouding his judgement dissipated into the thin air. "So? Did anything happen? Did you guys talk?"
"I'm sure you know."
He bit the inside of his cheek. Aoko was definitely onto something—something with a white cap and an old-fashioned monocle, and he breathed out quietly from his nose, as he asked, purposefully bewildered. "Do I?"
"Of course."
There was such a certainty behind the force of her voice, Kaito was prone to believe her—he wanted to believe her, but the tiny voice gnawing at the back of his mind reminded him that he knew otherwise—that nothing but lies sprouted from her mouth, each one painfully digging at his heart, and he hoped and prayed that his mother really did meet her—that they talked for the briefest of moments, and yet he knew that would be nothing but his own fantasy. His mother should have stayed at the ground floor, mingled as one of the guests until his timed smoke bombs exploded, instead of climbing up the stairs to meet her for a chat over tea and biscuits.
"Are you sure?" he asked, despite the certainty inside his mind that she could have never met Kid.
"Don't you remember?" she asked, her brows poignantly raised, stifled disbelief under her wavering tone.
Remember?
How could he?
Kaito stared at her, completely perplexed. How on earth did he remember something he didn't see—
Didn't see, huh?
Kaito snorted and threw an annoyed look at her.
He fell right into her trap. He had forgotten how dangerous words could be—forgotten how dangerous Aoko could be with carefully chosen words.
But it was too late to regret anything.
Too late denying anything.
His hesitance already flared up red-flags. She coerced him into admitting that he had an inkling whether she had met Kid or not. Anyone else with a fully functioning brain would have straight up refuted her for not knowing anything she sprouted from the very beginning, and yet here he was, arguing and questioning whether she really had the opportunity to meet Kid. . .
Was he an utter idiot?
Kaito drove his hand through his hair as he blew the air from his cheek. He really messed up. Big time.
Close proximity with her over the years completely damaged his guard, like a sturdy shield, wearing from the inside, full of holes and cracks, easily penetrable, and he could hear the soft murmur of his father's lecture—an expression; a leading gateway to his thoughts, and eyes were the green card verifying the entry of a soul.
He squeezed his eyes shut, fully aware of what to do.
Thee was only one thing he could do at this point.
Reset the entire conversation.
With furrowed brows and the tilt of his head, Kaito asked. "Who did you meet again? The little kid?"
"I meant Kid—the thief." There was something glowing inside her eyes whilst she corrected him, and Kaito found himself swallowing at the name of his father's alter ego rolling from her tongue. He hadn't misheard. He wasn't confused. The stress hasn't run his imagination wild.
She was really tripping him up.
But then again, two could play this game.
"Oh? I wished I met him too," he sighed as he crossed his arms over his head. "When did you talk to him?"
"Just now." Briefly she glanced out of the window before she side-eyed him. "Don't be too bummed that you couldn't meet him. If I were you I couldn't meet him either."
"What do you mean?"
She shrugged and picked her bag up from the floor. "Isn't like trying to see yourself in a mirror without actually having one?"
What?
Kaito tried hard not to narrow his eyes, and yet he did anyway with furrowed brows and pursed lips, and—there!—there was that thought again, gnawing at him and eating him up from the inside and now he knew with a hundred percent certainty that it was true.
His eyes fastened back on her face, but other than the weird glint inside her eyes, she looked like always, and he figured he needed to play his part now, standing in limelight, entering the stage as the red curtain rose, another little performance in front of a jeering crowd, wanting nothing more than watch him trip up and fall. "C'mon, don't you start too. I'm not Kid."
"Oh?" her gaze was strangely neutral, as though she was barely listening to him. "Is that so?"
"Of course, it is. If I were Kid, I wouldn't be talking to you right now." He explained, backing toward the door and motioned her to follow him, a little disappointed that he couldn't set the decoy after all, but this was alright too. "With everything that's been happening, I would have made my escape a long time ago."
"Isn't that why you're here?" her tone hardened a little and he glanced at her her, her gaze was piercing even as she followed closely behind him, her eyes flickered at the hang glider near the window. "Didn't you come here to escape with that?"
"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Kaito muttered, stuffing his hand inside his pockets as he glanced at her. "I came here to stop Kid. I thought he might come here to escape—" he stopped and glanced at her, sceptically before he moved to pinch her cheek, she yelped and swatted his hand away, but he was already sighing in relieve. "Sorry. You're acting so weird. I thought—"
"How funny," she interrupted, rubbing her cheek and glaring. "That wasn't necessary, you know? there's no way I can be Kid."
Funny.
Mere hours ago, she thought the same thing about him. Kaito couldn't help but wonder what changed since then. She hadn't doubted him the last time he saw her. So, what was it that turned her against him?
Kaito bit the inside of his cheek as he countered her with a mean stare that didn't convey even half of the horrible feeling brooding inside his chest. "Questioning me isn't necessary. Did you spend too much time with Hakuba? You're starting to sound like him."
"How funny," she rolled her eyes and moved past him, brushing by the door and into of the hallway. He caught up with her and grabbed her by the shoulder, stilling her movement as he placed a hand on her forehead and frowned.
"You're repeating yourself. Are you not feeling well?"
She swatted his hand away, tried to quench the urge to laugh at him without success as she released a breathless laugh. "I'm trying to be serious here."
"Alright, alright." Kaito muttered, stuffing his hands back inside his pockets. "But seriously you're acting weird."
"Not as much as you," she muttered under her breath, and Kaito narrowed his eyes, accusingly. "Focus," she reprimanded and Kaito rolled his eyes. "Do you remember that idiot who borrowed my first mechanical pencil that Dad bought me and broke it?"
"Who?" Kaito asked, despite having vague picture in his mind as they wandered down the hall. "Do you mean that fatso?"
"He was a little chubby, short hair and always forgot to bring an erase. Do you remember?"
"How can I forget him if you keep reminding me of him?" Kaito said, a little annoyed. That fatso was such an insignificant figure in his life—someone you meet once in your life and forget by the end of the evening, and yet Aoko kept bringing him up as though the little boy's mistake was branded inside her heart with charcoaled ash.
It was for that reason, Kaito accidentally broke every mechanical pencil she had and replaced with standard pencils after he managed to persuade her to keep those. The boy's name hadn't come up for half a decade and he was quite surprised (and annoyed) that he managed to become another conversational topic between the two of them.
Now. Of all times.
"He broke one of the first present my Dad gave me. It's something I'll never forget even though I have forgiven him."
"I know that."
"It was something special and he took it away from me. It broke my heart."
"Aren't you exaggerating a little?" he tried to laugh but the tension he felt wouldn't let up.
Aoko halted on her steps as she grabbed his shoulder, her serious gaze drilled holes into his eyes. "Kaito. If you keep lying now, you'll become the next fatso in my life."
Kaito stared at her and his mouth opened for another silly joke—a distraction that diverted the situation from escalating, he had an inkling where this was going, and he absolutely no intention to go there. At all.
He swallowed and tried to smile, tried to come off as casual as usual but the keen glint inside her eyes was relentless.
She was serious.
"Kaito," she called him again, and he tried to not to flinch. "Do you know who Kid is?"
"What?"
"You heard me. You said, you thought Kid would escape and come here. But how did you find this room without having anyone show you? I only found this room by sheer luck. It only makes sense to me if Kid showed you where this is, but that would mean you trailed him. But you can't do that without knowing who he is in the first place."
"That's a lot of buts you mentioned."
"Answer the question, Kaito. From all these people, how did you know who Kid was?"
"I don't know who Kid is yet, but I can tell you how I found this room." He thought back at the layout and remembered deciding on a room little hard to find, well away from officers, but he couldn't exactly tell her that—the Kaito she knew was a simple-minded guy, and in her dictionary slightly idiotic, and so he said instead. "And it has nothing to do with me checking every door of this bloody building."
The look on her face was incredulous before she shook her head and replaced it with a frown. "You don't except me to believe that."
"No matter what I say, you're not going to believe me anyway." Kaito countered. She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued. "In your mind, you're already thinking I'm Kid."
Even if I told you Kid had been apprehended today, you would only look at me and ask what I'm doing here, and no matter what I'll say, you definitely wouldn't believe me. Even if I said, I'm only here, trying to keep the police from believing my mom is really Kid.
You would definitely think I'm Kid.
And there's nothing else I can say, but "You're right."
Kaito never hated the truth as much as he did at this moment.
Aoko only stared at him, her sapphire eyes glinting with guilt and she lowered her head, wringing her lips between her teeth thoughtfully before she gazed up with uncertainty. "Does that mean you're not?"
Kaito simply stared at her—stared at her cute nose, pink cheekbones and tousled hair as she wrestled with her words.
"I hate Kid. You know, I do. He's the only person I cannot forgive. If. . .if I find out it's you then—then I don't know. I don't want to think about that. That's why promise me." Aoko said, raising her pinkie. "Promise me, you're not Kid, and it will be the end of that."
Kaito swallowed, and gently placed his hand on top of hers. "We're too old for that."
"We did it two months ago."
"We grew up a lot since then."
"Kaito," her gaze was firm and a little disappointed, as though she didn't want to acknowledge his hesitance for admittance. "It's alright. You can do this for me, can't you?"
Kaito glanced at her and hesitatingly and glanced at his own callous hand, worn by his practice of tricks he had needed more for his heists than his leisurely usage, tricks he posed as magic.
His hands were practised deceivers, guided by the strings of his body that bowed down to his will and very nature—he was a liar, a deceiver and a trickster. Even with a good reason such as his own, it wouldn't be good enough for her.
It would never be good enough for her.
As busy as her father always was at the police force, Kid had been responsible robbing most of her father's time during her childhood and even now in her teenage years. Even if her lack of a father figure was partly fault of his dad, it was now him transcending the continuation of that same phantom pain she had felt growing up.
He was a criminal in her eyes. Someone, who needed to be caught and locked up.
The same criminal, who stood before her as her best-friend.
Kaito peered at her face, hopeful and yet anxious as she kept chewing her bottom lips, and for a moment he wondered how selfish it would be to have her promise him that she would always forgive him, no matter what happens. And yet that this indirect confession would reveal it all, and Aoko was smart enough to realise that—smart enough to see straight through him.
Aoko raised her pinkie higher, desperate and demanding at the same time, and Kaito knew he had to face this dilemma without a proper solution.
He had only had a sickening feeling tumbling inside his stomach, and he knew.
Yes, he knew.
I don't want that.
And so, he answered.
"No, you're wrong. I can't."
Kaito shook his head slowly and stared at his shoes, unable to look into her eyes, into the heartbroken expression tearing her face.
"I can't do that for you."
Wide sapphire glued on his face, under his gentle grip, her hand trembled.
"Why can't you simply believe me?"
Because she doesn't trust you.
She glanced down at the carpet, her eyes dangerously glistering.
"Why do I have to proof it to you?"
Because you're a liar.
Her lips twitched, and her cute nose reddened.
"We have known each other since we were kids—"
That doesn't matter.
"Why can't you trust me?"
Stop it.
"I told you already. I'm not—"
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up—
Tears curved down each side of her cheeks and bright red rimmed eyes, and he recognised the hurt before the shame and humiliation. She wiped them away, and he realised once again, what an idiot he was.
A huge insensitive idiot.
And he found it was still better than being hated.
You're despicable.
He knew.
But at least with her, he wanted to remain honest. . .
Even if it's like this.
With her back turned against him, shoulders trembling, silently crying.
He was despicable.
He knew.