Disclaimer: I don't own DCMK

Sky Colored Eyes

37: The Writer

The soft hum of the computer was loud in the stillness of the sunlight corner. Indigo eyes wandered over its glowing screen. Their owner was miles away, but he had long perfected the art of multitasking. It wasn't like his current task took a great deal of brainpower anyway. There were other, more worthy issues on his mind.

Kaito had never—and would never—deign to call himself a detective. Detectives were, for the most part, a bunch of stuck up prats who enjoyed taking the fun out of living by endeavoring to force everything to make logical sense. Now, he had nothing against logic. You needed logic before you could create miracles. He also had nothing against the general concept of detectives. It was good that people were putting their brains to use catching criminals and helping the rest of society sort itself out into a safer place to live. What he didn't understand was why they couldn't leave harmless mysteries (like a magician's magic, per se) alone. Couldn't they see that the world needed those mysteries? There were also some annoying detectives who liked to cling to their conclusions like desperate koalas despite the myriad of pieces of evidence against those conclusions and the myriads of more important and dangerous cases yet in need of attention. More of them needed to learn what kinds of cases actually needed to be prioritized.

But he digressed.

The point was that he had never thought of himself as a detective, but he had thought quite a lot about the ironies of the work of detectives and magicians. One created wonder and mystery, breaking the rules of reality and setting free the hearts and imaginations of humanity. The other called everyone back down to earth, dispelling the magic and giving shape to the man behind the smoke and mirrors. They were, by their very natures, opposites, and yet their work inevitably required them to work with many of the same skills. Just—from different angles, so to speak.

One of those shared skills was that of observation.

So here was what he'd come to know about his new friend turned romantic interest. He knew that, two years—going on to three—ago, Kudo Shinichi had vanished from the public eye. Rumors started shortly after that that said the boy had gotten in over his head and been killed by some criminal or other he'd been investigating. Kaito hadn't listened much to those rumors, mostly because he hadn't really known Shinichi as anything more than that brat in the helicopter back then. He'd been just another detective. No, his attention at the time had been focused elsewhere.

On one Edogawa Conan. The little boy looked a hell of a lot like Shinichi, if Shinichi was ten years younger and wore glasses. The strange thing was that he didn't talk like he was ten years younger. He spoke much the same way Shinichi did, albeit with the occasional spate of forced childish cheer that Kaito had always found just a tidbit on the creepy side. Did people really buy that act? But anyway, back to the point. Conan had been around for two years, running around after the suddenly famous Mouri Kogoro, claiming to be his assistant or something. The man had solved dozens of cases, many of which had had the police involved running in circles for ages, and all the while the little Shinichi lookalike had been scampering around in the background, asking questions and making inane yet surprisingly relevant comments. Talk about a strange kid. The grownups let him get away with way too much, but he acted so much older than he should be that it didn't feel that way.

And now they came to the day those few months back. Conan had decided to go home. End of story. He packed, said his goodbyes, and was gone. No one other than Professor Agasa and Haibara Ai actually saw him board the plane, and neither of them were talking.

No one called Edogawa Conan had landed in any airport anywhere in the world that day—or at least that was what Kaito's sources had unearthed for him.

And again, he came back to Shinichi.

A hand reached out to pick up the mug of mocha sitting beside the laptop. Kaito took a quick sip before setting the mug aside again. The mouse clicked idly.

Not long after Conan vanished off the radar, Kudo Shinichi returned from nowhere to complete his high school career at Ekoda High. No, it turned out he'd been alive this whole time after all. Where? No one knew. Shinichi clammed up anytime someone asked, and the few bits he'd let slip were vague and about as helpful as a sigh. He dealt with all the cases that came before him with the calm efficiency of one who had been doing it for all the years he'd been away though, and the police still listened to his every word like it was the winning lottery number. So maybe the rumors that Kudo had been off solving some monstrous case were closer to the truth than anyone had given them credit for after the conspicuous lack of media coverage of any major triumphs over crime.

More important though was the detective who had come back. He had returned to the public but still preferred to stay out of its sight. He was now close friends with a little girl who had arrived in Tokyo after his disappearance—a little girl who, like Conan, knew far too much and spoke like one much older (if anything, the Haibara girl came across much more grownup than Tantei-kun ever had).

The magician's fingers drummed lightly on the keys of the mouse under his hand.

The coincidences were far too numerous to be coincidences. Hadn't he thought before how, if the difference in stature hadn't been so obvious, he might have thought that the two detectives were really one and the same? If they were then all the little coincidences and discrepancies in their behavior would make sense. But as a master of disguise, Kaito knew with absolute certainty that there was no way to disguise a teenager as a child so completely, forget for such a length of time. It really would have to be magic.

"And I have a witch in my class," he remarked to the computer screen. Hmm, a spell that turned back the hands of time and reduced teenagers to children? He wasn't sure if he bought that, but he found himself not entirely able to dismiss the idea either. After all, he did know Koizumi. It would also explain Shinichi's surprising willingness to consider the possibility of all the supernatural weirdness they'd been hearing about. Logical as he was, Shinichi would have to be open to the possibility of such things if he himself had gone through a similarly impossible experience.

"Well that certainly stitches it all together quite nicely," he remarked to the emptiness, slouching back in his chair and running a hand through his wild hair, messing it up even more. He may very well have just found the answers to the questions that he'd been toying with ever since Shinichi's transfer to their school. Only the answers were going to bring a whole horde more questions stampeding after them. He just knew. But all that aside, could it really be true? How did you even go around confirming these kinds of things?

He could just ask Shinichi, but with the way the detective shied from straight answers and changed the subject whenever he brought up his recent past or Conan, Kaito doubted he'd get anywhere that way. That, and if he was wrong, he didn't want to give Shinichi the impression that he was a total nutcase. Er, well, more of a nutcase than he actually was anyway. After all, a lot of the information he was going on here had been collected through less than normal means. He generally preferred not to let his friends know when he stalked them, especially when he didn't technically have a good reason other than to satisfy his own curiosity.

And yet…he wanted to know if it was true.

It wasn't really about the answer though. It wouldn't change how he felt about Shinichi. Yes, it would be nice to know that Conan hadn't actually gone missing and didn't need to be rescued or anything, but mostly he wanted to know because it was about Shinichi—wanted to share his secrets. He wanted to understand the sadness and the pain he caught glimpses of when Shinichi's guard was down. He wanted to know everything, and he wanted Shinichi to be comfortable trusting him with the knowledge.

But that kind of trust, he knew, came with its own price.

Sighing, he pulled up an email and began typing.

Dear Higuzashi-san,

The website's looking really cool. I see what you mean about needing more pictures though. If you have suggestions on the types of images that would work best, we would really appreciate some advice. As for the home page, my wife says she prefers the vertical menu on the left rather than the right. The overall color scheme might be good a little darker too. More mysterious and all that. What do you think?

Best,

Kiba

He sent the message with another click then shut down the laptop. Time to go home and talk to the one person who always seemed to know just what to say.

X

"Hey Mom."

"Yes?" Kuroba Chikage glanced up as her son dropped onto one of the living room couches. He had a pensive air about him today, she mused. It had to be serious if he was coming to her about it.

"What would you do if… Well, let's say you think you've found something out about a good friend. Something really weird—as in, if you bring it up and you're wrong, he might think you're crazy kind of weird."

The woman raised an eyebrow. Since when was a Kuroba afraid of being called weird? Her son has certainly never been concerned about such things before, and she highly doubted that he was going to start now. "And?."

"Well, would you tell them that you knew?"

Chikage set aside her Home and Herbs magazine, looking thoughtful. "Well, I guess it would depend on what this very strange thing I thought I'd found out was, and which friend it's all about. Does this…discovery change anything about how you feel towards this friend?"

"No! No, of course not. I mean, I'm surprised, no questions there, but… Well, it's kinda nice too."

"Nice?" the woman repeated, mildly confused. "What do you mean?"

Kaito chuckled. "Let's just say it cleared up a lot of questions, and is going to save me a lot of trouble. Scouring the world to find one little kid was going to put a big dent in my free time. Now I don't have to look. And that means I can devote all my attention to our current predicaments."

"And will revealing your new knowledge to your young friend help with those predicaments?"

Kaito heaved a melodramatic sigh and flopped back onto the couch cushions. "That's the bit I just can't make up my mind about. You have no idea how jumpy he gets about these things. I'm afraid that if I start pressing him about it, he'll clam up even worse and go back into gloomy mode. But if he is willing to talk to me about it—if he can trust me with it—then maybe I could…" He trailed off, casting his mother a sidelong look from the corner of his eye. He'd never spoken outright about his night job with his mother, though by now he was fairly certain that she knew. Still, old habits were hard to break.

Chikage smiled softly. "You know, there's nothing wrong with taking your time. Some things shouldn't be rushed. You'll know when the time is right."

"Yeah, I guess there really isn't anything much to it." The magician propped his elbows on his knees, indigo eyes gazing at some invisible point on the horizon. "He looks a lot happier now than he did when he first got here," he continued in a murmur, more to himself than to his mother. "I want to protect that. And that's what I'm going to do."

Silence reigned for a few minutes before Chikage broke it. "You know," she said. "You still haven't introduced me to your new friend. Didn't you say you were bringing him to dinner?"

"Er, yeah, about that." Kaito scratched at the back of his head. "Things just keep cropping up."

His mother gave him a long, searching look then nodded, reaching for her magazine again. "I guess that can't be helped. But I do expect an introduction when it's all over."

"Yes ma'am!"

X

Shinichi covered a yawn as he blinked rapidly at the computer screen. It was ironic, he thought, how after all the running around and research they were doing for the case, at the end of the day, they still had homework. It was almost laughable in a not very funny kind of way. It was just so hard to focus on researching for a school paper when you knew there was a weird cult running around messing with people's lives. But he really couldn't afford to let his grades drop.

He'd just read this article for the third time hadn't he? And he still didn't know what it was talking about. The words were just sailing across his vision and vanishing from his memory as quickly as they came. He couldn't tell if it was because he was tired or distracted or both.

He groaned. He wasn't getting anywhere like this. Pushing away from the desk, he stood up, grabbed his empty mug from where it had been sitting on a coaster by the computer, and headed into the kitchen. The coffeepot had long since been emptied. He set about brewing up a fresh pot.

When he returned to the computer with a brimming mug, he gave the article he'd been reading a contemplative look before deciding to open up his email instead. Maybe what he needed was a change of pace.

Glancing down the list of new messages, he began to delete all the advertisements. About halfway down the list, he paused. He didn't recognize this address, but it didn't look like spam either. The subject line read "Request". Could it be a client? He'd given his email to the police recently as it was just easier sometimes that playing phone tag. Since then, he had been getting the occasional emailed request for assistance. Some he had been able to answer simply via correspondence, but he'd also had to refer several people to the assorted police detectives he knew as he couldn't currently afford to take time away from school to travel too far from the city. Due to all that, it wasn't uncommon for him to receive emails from total strangers.

He struggled with himself for a few moments. Homework or possible case? He had to do the homework sooner or later, but if it was a case, it could be urgent. The report wasn't due until the end of next week… He gave in and opened the email.

Dear Kudo Shinichi,

I am a writer working on an article about some unusual things that have been happening around Tokyo. I brought my findings to the police friends I have, but none of them could make heads or tails out of it. One of them suggested that I talk to you.

I have heard a lot of great things about your work, and I believe that if there is anyone who can help me solve this mystery, it must be you. Would you be willing to meet me for coffee this coming Saturday? I would like to share my findings with you and get your opinion on how it all looks.

If this sounds interesting to you, please do say you'll come. I will be eagerly awaiting your response.

Yours truly,

Yagami Shintarou

It took Shinichi's tired mind a moment longer to register the name than it usually would have when he was awake. When it did finally click, he gaped. Then he snatched his phone—grabbing the Akimiko one by mistake.

"Kaito!"

"Yes Miko-chan?"

Shinichi halted in mid mental dash. "What?"

"You are Miko-chan, aren't you?"

Shinichi spluttered then snorted. "Fine, whatever, that's not important. I just got an email from the writer. Yagami Shintarou. He wants to see me this Saturday."

"What, you mean like a date?"

Shinichi choked. "Don't be stupid. He's a freelance writer. He said that he's been following some strange happenings in Tokyo and he wanted a detective's opinion on them."

"Hmm, I see."

Shinichi paused, frowning slightly. "What is it? I thought you'd be more interested."

"Oh I'm interested all right," the magician grunted, indigo eyes sharp and hard on the other end of the line. "Don't you think this is a little too convenient? This is the guy Aoko and the nuisance think may be supplying our cult people with information. If that doesn't scream suspicious then I don't know what does."

"I know," Shinichi agreed. "But it's also a chance to meet this man. Since we couldn't find him before, this could be the only chance."

There was a sigh across the line. "I'm assuming then that you've already made up your mind to meet the guy."

"I have. I just—thought I should let you know." Shinichi paused, staring blankly at the wall. He hadn't even stopped to think about it. He'd just picked up the phone, and, before he knew it, he'd called Kaito. Well, he was currently working with the magician on this case, but he hadn't been thinking about that when he'd made the call. He'd just been excited by the new turn of events and wanted to tell Kaito about it. He'd never been the kind of person who felt the need to share such things before though. It was a new feeling for him, and he didn't know quite what to make of it.

"I'll go with you."

He'd known Kaito was going to say that too. "We don't want to spook him though."

"No one will even know I'm there," Kaito vowed. "It's better that way anyway."

"I'll let you know when and where when he answers then."

"Right. By the way, you do realize that it's almost two in the morning, right?"

"What?" Shinichi looked down at the corner of his computer screen and blanched. "I had no idea it was that late!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You should really be in bed."

"I'm sorry if I woke you."

"Don't worry about it. I'm a bit of a night owl really. Anyway, go on and sleep. We can talk more about this at school tomorrow."

Shinichi nodded before his brows furrowed. "Isn't it hypocritical of you to be telling me to go to bed when you're staying up?"

"Nope, 'cause I can function with just a few hours of sleep whereas you can barely open your eyes on a good day without multiple cups of coffee."

"…" Shinichi rolled his eyes even though he knew Kaito couldn't see him. Unfortunately, the magician was right.

TBC

A.N: I've been feeling really stressed lately -_- It's making it hard to write.