Someone was tapping their foot. It wasn't loud in the airport, not compared to the sheer number of people bustling about and chattering and the intercom reading off delays, boarding, and loading information. But it was rhythmic and irritating and Shinichi was going to handicap them.
He opened his eyes and pushed himself upright in his chair, his overhead bag landing on the ground at his feet. He scanned the room for the culprit, zeroing in on the young man wearing a beanie, sunglasses, headphones, and a jacket, who was bouncing his leg and shuffling a deck of cards with one hand. The stranger was seated across from him, only the aisle between seats separating them.
"Would you stop?" Shinichi demanded, leaning across the aisle and prodding the stranger in the knee with a hard jab.
The stranger twitched, cards spilling into the aisle and exploding into confetti. Shinichi would have been surprised, but it had been three hours since all three coffee kiosks in the area refused to serve him anymore caffeine and his nerves were stretched thin.
"Why would you do that?" The stranger groaned, slipping out of his seat and gathering together the pile of confetti. "That was my last deck!"
"I'm so sorry for you. Maybe you can find a quieter hobby while we're waiting." Shinichi settled back in his chair, clamping his eyes shut and dropping his palm over them.
"Not even an apology!" The stranger cried out.
Someone was poking him.
Shinichi ignored it.
Someone started poking him in Morse code, 'A-S-S-H-O-L-'
"Hey!" Shinichi growled, and his hand shot out to grab the stranger's. "What is wrong with you?"
"Me? You ruined my cards and didn't even have an apology! I realize you're probably upset at the delay, but did you have to take it out on me?" The stranger pulled his hand out of Shinichi's grip, which made Shinichi blink because barely anyone could escape out of the grip Ran had taught him.
"You were tapping your foot," Shinichi accused, sounding weak even to his own ears. The stranger frowned at him, the blue tinted lenses of his sunglasses only reflecting back Shinichi's own face.
"Sorry," The stranger apologized, caustic and self-righteous, crossing his arms and falling back heavily into his chair. His lips curled into a pout and Shinichi felt a very faint thread of guilt.
"I'm sorry," Shinichi said, after five minutes had passed and the stranger still hadn't moved. "I've been here for thirteen hours, trying to get any flight headed to Japan, but with the weather..."
"The same for me," The stranger said, relaxing into a more comfortable pose. "Who knew Hawaii could have such terrible weather?"
"Yeah," Shinichi agreed. "I'm Kudou Shinichi, by the way."
"Kuroba Kaito. Nice to meet you," Kuroba pulled off his sunglasses and bowed his head, the beanie and headphones landing in his lap. Shinichi gaped as he got his first look at Kuroba's bare face.
"What?"
"I know, right?" Kuroba grinned and pointed at his own nose. "The similarities are frightening."
Shinichi panicked a little bit, the horror that maybe his parents had lied about him being an only child flirted with his stupefied mind, because Kuroba Kaito could be his twin.
"Well, other than the fact that your eyes are a different shade of blue, your nose is wider than mine, your cheekbones sharper, your mouth not as full. And your hair's the wrong shade of brown, too dark to match mine. Your skin tone's too light, but I have been out in the sunlight every day for the past two weeks I've been here, so I'm a little more tan than usual." Kuroba paused and raked his eyes down Shinichi's body. "I'd say our body types are pretty different, too. You've got narrower shoulders than I do, but your legs and chest are more muscled than mine. I'm likely three inches taller than you, as well."
Shinichi could admit to himself, at least, that he was impressed. He shook his head to clear it and felt cheered that the stranger was turning out to be more interesting than he'd thought.
"That was very good," Shinichi said, approvingly, and offered his hand. "But I bet I can figure a few things out about you just by shaking your hand."
"Oh?" Kuroba grinned and took his hand. "The Holmes test. I've got a friend at home who's usually pretty good at it, but he never gets me right."
"I bet I can," Shinichi bragged, ignoring how his heart had pulsed and his face flushed when his offer had been recognized. Holmes was famous for reading Watson just by shaking his hand, it was hardly impressive that someone knew that.
He concentrated on the calluses and muscles in Kuroba's hand, feeling how he flexed his fingers in Shinichi's grip and the faintest fluttering of Kuroba's steady pulse where Shinichi's fingertips skimmed over his wrist.
"You have familiarity firing guns, not any regulation handgun, though. Something custom-made," he said first, used to leading with potentially dangerous information before the rest. "There's a burn scar, here and here, I'd say from touching the hot barrel of a gun, but I'd guess that the damage is actually deeper than that, so you've been in a situation where you've been exposed to a fire, getting a second-degree burn."
"Very good," Kuroba wiggled the two fingers with the burn scars, his pointer and middle fingers. "If you can guess my profession by the end, I'll tell you what happened."
"You're on." Shinichi studied Kuroba's hand, using his fingertips to trace a few marks on the back of his hand. "These are unusual injuries. They're at the wrong angle for a self-inflicted knife wound, but the cut's too thin for accidental injury from a machine or from an attack by someone."
Kuroba hummed, eyes glittering with the same promise for the explanation of the burns.
"The calluses on your hand... other than the guns, I'd say you have experience as a gymnast. A jack-of-all-trades, instead of specializing in one area. You have very tough hands and likely have treated yourself for rips." He stopped and ran his fingers down to the webbing between Kuroba's fingers. "But you wear gloves often. I can't judge that well, based on the time you've spent recently surfing, but I can tell that you wear thin gloves for long hours."
"How could you tell I've been surfing?"
"You admitted to spending all your time out in the sun. And, technically not part of your hand, when I do this – " Shinichi extended Kuroba's arm suddenly, letting Kuroba pull his arm back with a wince. "Sorry, but that's usually a sign that you've overextended your shoulder paddling out. Not many other chances to get that severe an injury here."
"Good point, so I'll allow it." Kuroba rubbed his shoulder with his opposite hand and extended his palm back out to Shinichi. "What else can you deduce?"
"Based on what I saw before I interrupted you?" Shinichi wrapped his fingers around Kuroba's narrow wrist and squeezed. "You're very skilled with your hands, and also familiar with performing sleight of hand tricks. My first guess would be that you've worked as a card dealer in a casino, but their decks don't usually erupt into confetti. So, I would guess stage performer."
"Magician," Kuroba clarified. "A quibbling difference in terms, but that is my preferred title. I was booked at the Halekulani Resort for a three month performance series. Known as The Magician under the Moonlight, Last Wizard of the Century, and the Immortal Kaitou Kid, at your service."
"I've heard about you," Shinichi said, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. His mother had gushed about Kaitou Kid when he'd last seen her, unbearably proud for reasons that Shinichi only determined later. "My mother studied make up and disguise under your father."
"Fujimine Yukiko!" Kuroba snapped the fingers of his other hand and laughed softly. "I knew I'd seen your bone structure somewhere before! You definitely inherited your mother's pretty face."
"Hey!" Shinichi couldn't stop the blush, but he did squeeze Kuroba's wrist warningly.
"I only mean that in the kindest way. She's very beautiful." Kuroba twisted his hand so he could lock his fingers around Shinichi's. Shinichi caught a glint of silver between their hands and then there was a pair of handcuffs linking them together. "I've been getting a reputation for my impossible escape routines and perfect mimicry, and you've been very accurate about my abilities."
"Trick cuffs?" Shinichi studied the handcuffs and used one hand to release them. Kuroba let go of his arm, caught the band that had been around Shinichi's, and faster than he could track, he'd vanished them from sight.
"Very basic trick. My illusions aren't getting the same admiration as my death-defying, but I'm more than familiar with sleight of hand. I've been studying under my father for twenty years." Kuroba let Shinichi inspect his palm, then the floor around them, but the handcuffs had vanished completely.
"So the burns-"
"Have you ever seen the fire-breathing technique?" Kuroba mimed holding his fingers in front of his mouth and blowing. "It's a traditional part of performances around here, but I actually learned it from the Hopper Family, the Magician of Fire's granddaughter, Jodie. Small accident with the accelerant spilling on my fingers during a performance. The show goes on and I ended up doing some incredible damage before getting treatment."
"Not very smart," Shinichi commented, shaking his head in dismay.
Kuroba laughed. "I'm plenty smart. It would have ruined the show if I just bowed out, so I put up with a bit of pain. I didn't cause any irrevocable damage and the performance was one of my highest rated ever."
"Masochistic tendencies," Shinichi noted, smirking at the affronted look Kuroba gave him, which gradually turned thoughtful.
"Maybe a little bit," Kuroba admitted, shrugging his shoulders with a faint wince. Then his smirk warped into something predatory and hungry. "You know, you could always help me find out. An extra set of eyes to check over some experiments, maybe?"
Shinichi almost swallowed his tongue in mortification.
"You do realize you've been holding my hand for about the past..." Kuroba glanced over Shinichi's shoulder. "The past forty minutes. And that friend I mentioned? With the Holmes trick? He usually only does it to girls to flirt."
"Um..." Because that was the very same reason Shinichi used to use it, before he started working as a private detective and found a wider range of use for it. "Uh..."
"You're headed to Japan, right? So am I. We're likely on the same plane. I bet I can convince you to go out with me before we touch down in Japan."
Shinichi found himself grinning back, charmed despite himself and still unable to get the blush off his face. "Deal."
