Disclaimer: All Detective Conan characters belong to Gosho Aoyama. Not me.
A/N: Reviews! Thanks YunCyn, Kazuha and Ysabet. Oh. Wait. AAAAAAA YSABET SAID I WAS GOOOOOOD!! My favoritest author said I was...*keels over drooling*. Also thanks to Icka and Bratty.
Reviews, reviews, reviews. You can't eat 'em. You can't sell 'em. But somehow, they give me a warm fuzzy feeling. I think I'm addicted. If I continue to be on the receiving end of said warm fuzzy feelings, the more I'll be addicted, which may result in faster updates. (Hint, hint)
Oh yeah. One more thing. This fic is actually done in an, umm, unusual way. It's Conan POV a chapter, then Kaito POV a chapter, then Conan, then...you get the idea. Yeah, yeah, it's Kaito, surprise surprise. Still no plot. Heck, who cares about the plot! I could just shovel out endless- I mean, er, plotty stuff soon. Yeah. That's it. Okay. Now put down the plastic forks. All of you.
Enough fooling around. Enjoy.
Illusion/Reality
"Shinichi!" huh, what the--
Out of nowhere, a hand shot out to trap him in a vise-like grip, and he found himself being whirled around to face its owner. Hey...
"Baka no Shinichi, do you know how much I --"
His apparent captor was a person he vaguely recognized but couldn't quite place. Obviously she was as surprised as he was. The bad news was, she hadn't yet quite released him. Hmm. Why is that bad news again? Ah. Aoko. Skirt. Light blue this time. Despite being held captive for no reason whatsoever by a strange girl, Kaito allowed himself a private smirk. Suits her. Aoko -- Something that had been lurking at the back of his mind, all but forgotten, took it upon itself then to visit his brain with the velocity of the Tokyo-bound Shinkansen. At rush hour. Angry, chase -- he desperately tried to twist around --
WHAM!
----
Uhhhhh. Wha-- Something cold and wet smacked itself on his face. And stayed there. Fish?
Desperately clawing at his face and trying to move away from it suddenly seemed a most prudent idea. Unfortunately, opening his eyes first would be even more sensible. As he found out. The hard way.
THUD.
Ow. Pain.
"The good news is he's awake. The bad news is he's face-down on the ground." I know that voice. Completing the half-roll that took him from park bench to concrete, Kaito cracked open an eye to see--
"Hattori Heiji. Doozo yoroshiku." Spot on, Kaito. He reached up and took the proffered hand while the teenage detective hauled him up. Wonder what an Osaka detective is doing here. Ah well, if phantom thieves can take a day off, why can't he? But why here? Hmm. Wait -- Mouri Ran. So that's who she was. You just might be getting old if you can't even remember people you impersonate, Kaito. They came together. But if she's here-
"Neechan, is Kuroba-san really afraid of something?" Something cold and slippery got up and did a jig in Kaito's gut. It took all of his willpower to keep his facial expression under control. The last time he heard that voice was during the Black Star Pearl incident. It had sliced through the mystery like a hot knife through butter, not missing a single trick. I didn't know they made detectives like that anymore. That he had been able to escape was a better testament to his stamina than his stealth. In other words, it was a long swim to shore that day.
"Baka!" Inadvertently ignoring Conan, Nakamori Aoko advanced on the still-dazed Kaito. "How dare you -- if you had -- ooooooooh!"
At least there aren't any mops around here. Dodging a karate chop gracefully, he picked up snatches from a hurried private conference between Heiji and Conan:
" --hundred yen says he goes down in five--"
" --on, Hattori."
Gotta give the fans their moneys worth. Still rather faint-headed, he sidestepped to avoid walking into a roundhouse left.
"Take it easy, Aoko-chan, I'm sure Kuroba-kun was just joking," Ran tried to intervene, completely unused to one of the rarest and most complex courtship rituals on earth. As the one-sided fight continued unabated, she seemed to be staring at Kaito.
"How can anyone move like that?" the question was whispered, directed more to the world than any specific being on it, but having heard it, Kaito suddenly found himself in a dilemma: how to end the show without showing too much of his ability and survive the onslaught. I still want to be able to dance -- he hastily evaded a potentially-lethal kick -- and use the bathroom normally.
"Neechan, why did you rush out and grab Kuroba-niichan?"
"Oh, that's because I thought he was Shinichi, that baka. He'd better watch out-"
"Shinichi? Kudo Shinichi? The famous high-school detective?" Aoko had suddenly stopped the assault. Not like that's a bad thing. I owe you one, kid.
After the name and reputation of one Kudo Shinichi had been thoroughly slandered, defamed and dragged through a mud puddle on its face, Ran appeared much happier. Aoko had tried to keep up at first by offering some of Kaito's more embarrassing moments, but ultimately it seemed like Shinichi, Sherlock Holmes nut, involuntary kitchen-arsonist, baker-of-food-still-in-the-plastic-wrapping and overall tantei-no-baka, was in a league of his own. Poor guy. He isn't even here to defend himself. I wouldn't wish this on anybody. Well, maybe Hakuba, but only about once a month or so. Make that twice.
After the revelation, Aoko and Conan looked equally scandalized. Perhaps he hasn't heard it before.
Strangely, Aoko was the first to muster a defense. "But my dad talks about him all the time!" With good reason. No one had come that close to capturing the Kid. Not Nakamori himself, who dedicated his life to bringing down the Kid; not Hakuba, for all his insisting that he was the one to capture Kaitou Kid. Kudo Shinichi had come out of nowhere, borrowed the on-site police dunderheads, and forced the Kaitou into the second most recent of his Top Five 'That Was Close' Experiences. And that was without homework, too. Kudo Shinichi was a wild card, an unknown factor, and all of the players in the game knew it. Unfortunately, or rather fortunately in his case, Kudo had done a disappearing act recently, not responding to their contacting him.
Ah well, the guy's name saved me, guess I'd better repay the favor. "Nobody's perfect you know, hey, I'm sure Sherlock Holmes or Ellery Queen forgot to do their laundry once or twice, right?" He was answered by two identical death glares. "May-maybe not."
----
A few rides and snacks later, Kaito realized he'd forgotten to introduce himself. Not that it was necessary, because as the little shrimpy kid had referred to him by name, obviously Aoko had already attached a name to his unconscious body. But still, appearances mattered. Plus, I still don't know the name of that cute girl next to Hattori.
Hattori's grip was as strong as his accent. Invisibly gritting his teeth, Kaito had to strain to match the pressure.
"I'm Edogawa Conan." Tantei. The unspoken title hung in the air, known only to those lucky (or unlucky) enough to witness the pint-sized detective in action. Funny that it seemed even more menacing this way. Get your wits up, Kaito. Beware of shrimp. No Kid stuff. No card tricks. No sleight of hand. No pick pocketing. No fake appendages. Oh, and have a nice day.
The girl's name was Toyama Kazuha, but judging by the way Heiji eyed the innocent handshake, it looked like she was off limits. Although he knew virtually nothing about kendo in practice, Kaito made a surprisingly accurate assessment of how fast Heiji would take him apart if he kissed Kazuha's hand Kid-style. Take it easy man, not like I would want to try anything. He unconsciously glanced at Aoko, his hand still outstretched, which turned out to be a mistake.
Eeeep. Rrrrrrrgh. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa--whew. If shaking (or more accurately, trying to match the force of) Heiji's hand was a challenge, having his hand crushed by an amiably-smiling Ran was a nightmare. I swear I heard something crack in there. Behind his back, he plunged his long-suffering hand into his iced Coke. Ahhhhhhhh. Even better than drinking it. A few passers-by noticed a small column of smoke rising behind Kaito, but wisely decided not to point it out.
----
Actually, Kaito mused, as the Mystery Coaster surged through a dark tunnel, perhaps he and Kudo Shinichi weren't that different after all. The looks, the situation with our, um, female friends, the klutzy exterior hiding a genius inside -- well, there is that law thing. Eyes already accustomed to the darkness around him, he reached to take Aoko's hand in his-- No. I can't. I shouldn't. He slumped in his seat. A small sigh, all but audible, caused him to turn around. Edogawa Conan, his hand gently holding on to one of his neechan's fingers, was its only possible origin. So what's his beef with the world? As the rapidly receding darkness gave way to light, a ray caught Conan's glasses, hiding the windows to his soul behind an opaque wall of glass and light.
This Kudo Shinichi, however...he doesn't even know what he's missing. It's not like he has an alter ego that he's hiding from Ran-chan. One day he and I are going to have a little talk. For his own good...
To be continued...(hopefully in longer installments)
Post-fic A/N: I'm going on my last vacation before school reopens! Roller coasters, nauseating rides et al. Yay! Posting this on an afternoon...funny. I do most of my writing past midnight...must be boring you guys again. Jaa!