Continued thanks to Snickerer and RandomImagination for their invaluable help.

Kaleidoscope's End

Descend lower, descend only
Into the world of perpetual solitude,
World not world, but that which is not world,
Internal darkness, deprivation
And destitution of all property
~Burnt Norton (III.25-29)

Their return journey resembled the first trip, though with less chaotic spinning, something resembling a definite trajectory, and a shorter duration. However, when they finally made it back out into reality, relative momentum somehow placed Saguru on the bottom of the dogpile. Again.

"Off." Once free, Saguru took the chance to breathe and be grateful he wasn't claustrophobic. "My ribs hate you."

"Sorry," Kaito offered distractedly as he made short work of both handcuffs. " That still went better than I'd expected. Not nearly as bad as the trip there."

Inspector Hakuba stopped scrutinizing the room to give Kaito a look of mild horror. "That was better? How exactly does this work, anyway?"

Carefully sitting up, Saguru sighed. "...You probably don't want to know, beyond that Kuroba-kun was responsible."

Hakuba considered this. "You're right. I don't. Yet," he qualified as Saguru checked for signs of the operative's location, since the anaesthetic gas would have worn off in their rather unplanned absence. Seeing the man still out cold on the futon stopped Saguru short.

"Kuroba-kun, exactly how long is a full dose intended to last?" Sliding to the futon, he hesitated only a moment before carefully checking for a pulse. Thankfully, it was there, and about as steady as might be expected for a man who looked like he'd been through all nine circles of hell.

"Well... it depends," Kaito hedged unhelpfully. "Also, here." He offered Saguru's handcuffs back.

"Estimate for me," Saguru replied as he finished timing the pulse and retreated to accept the handcuffs.

"In addition," Inspector Hakuba interrupted, holding out a hand, "I'd like my handcuffs back, thank you."

Saguru blinked as Kaito returned the pair he'd used on the Inspector in the first place, momentarily distracted. "Those were yours?"

"Whose did you think they were?"

"When it comes to Kuroba-kun, I've mostly given up on asking."

"I find myself unsurprised," Inspector Hakuba admitted, securing the handcuffs before he opened the window blinds and peered outside. Saguru found himself blinking again at the unexpectedly minor change in brightness in the room and turned toward Kaito, the beginnings of suspicion rising.

Frowning at the still-unconscious operative, Kaito answered, "The gas usually lasts between fifteen and thirty minutes, since I'm trying to avoid side effects. I'm not sure why he's still out; we tried to get back as soon as we could, but we were still there for a good..." He trailed off, eyes losing focus as he presumably listened to either Méraud or Lupin, and then blinked. "Really?" Another pause and a slight wince before he blinked again, shaking his head. "Ah. Okay. So, apparently the whole time-travel part is..." he winced again, "really not recommended, and... doesn't really work the same way as the portals I usually make."

"Seeing as how the normal ones show where you'll arrive don't include the spinning-hyperspace-freefall part, I had rather assumed that, yes," Saguru agreed dryly.

"Right, right," Kaito said as he waved it away, only mildly chastised. He seemed to be doing much better than earlier; proof that he could and had made a difference against the nightmare here must have helped. "Seems like it's something to do with aiming at the same entry point we used to leave in the first place, so—as far as this place is concerned, it looks like we got back right after we left."

Inspector Hakuba crossed to the futon and raised his eyebrows, looking between them. "Ordinarily I would suspect you were using an earpiece of some sort to apparently pull information out of thin air, but I don't believe there's anyone for you to be talking to."

Saguru considered how well explaining the Shadow Realm was likely to go over at this point. "Do you remember what I said about picking up some tricks?"

"...Yes. Unfortunately."

"It's due to one of those. It can be quite helpful." Saguru shrugged for the second time in as many minutes. "I can give you the full explanation later if you want it, but it's probably best saved until we all have the leisure for it."

"Mmm." Inspector Hakuba seemed to have settled into a base state of general resignation. He might have said more, but at that moment the unconscious operative shifted on the futon and a tense silence fell. As they waited, Hakuba studied the operative's face intently with an unreadable expression, pausing only to glance at Kaito a time or two.

Previously, the Inspector's only glimpse of the other man had been the brief appearances on camera during the heist. Even with the man sedated, it was clear that the last few weeks had not been kind to him. The light from the window only made the grey pallor to his skin more obvious, with stark highlights and shadows framing an expression that remained drawn and tense even in unconsciousness.

Seconds stretched into a minute, and then two, and then finally Hakuba's shoulders dropped. "This is ridiculous. I'm going to check the perimeter."

Saguru met Kaito's eyes and gestured that he would shadow the Inspector. There was no real reason not to let him study their present location, but Saguru still felt wary about letting the man out of sight. Kaito nodded, moving out of their way without taking his own eyes off of the unconscious operative. Saguru spotted where his staff had fallen on the floor earlier and quickly retrieved it as he passed, collapsing and pocketing it as he followed the Inspector out of the room.

The main room was no less spartan than it had been the first time, and it was a mix of disappointment and relief to realize that Kaito had been right: any trace of the portal back to their other older counterparts was gone. The prospect of potential experienced backup had been an encouraging thought stepping into this situation, but now there was no chance of anything from this place getting anywhere near the children.

Inspector Hakuba checked the one window and even opened the front door to examine the hallway outside the apartment, assessing entrances, exits and what was visible of the skyline outside. He also retrieved his mobile phone and hissed under his breath when the screen displayed the date and time. Saguru debated about commenting, but caution remained the highest priority.

"Unless you can prevent GPS tracking for your phone, it would be wisest to turn it off or disable it entirely."

Hakuba grimaced, but seemed to take the point and hurriedly shut off the power and removed the battery before returning to the bedroom and leaning against the door frame. "We still have some time before he regains consciousness?"

Kaito nodded from his vigil by the futon. "At least ten minutes, unless his tolerance is as good as yours."

"About that... what exactly did you use? I've never heard of an aerosolized anaesthetic that works so quickly, nor one that leaves an aftertaste of cherries."

Saguru raised an eyebrow at Kaito. "You finally managed something other than 'old socks' and I didn't hear about it?"

Kaito flashed an almost normal grin for the briefest of moments. "Brand new formula revision. Riku-kun happened before I had a chance to use it officially."

"Officially?" Hakuba interrupted dryly. "What sort of situations are you in that would call for having such a thing?"

Kaito tilted his head, regarding the Inspector for a moment. Saguru had to suppress a reflexive twinge of foreboding at the considering gleam in Kaito's eye. The brunet let his head fall forward, bangs partially obscuring his eyes, and the sheer familiarity of that angle warned Saguru just in time before Kid's inscrutable mild smirk slipped into view. Simultaneously, Kaito's body language shifted to a showman's perfect posture to the point that Saguru could almost see the outline of the absent monocle, suit, cape and top hat. That was… less encouraging. This wasn't a heist, so for Kaito to be pulling on the showman persona of Kid...

"Let me tell you a story, Inspector." Those were Kid's tones, smooth as oiled silk. "Once upon a time, there was a legend. About a stone, hidden safely away inside a larger gem, that would only reveal itself with a red glow when brought under the light of the full moon. And about how once every ten thousand years—a time soon approaching—that stone could be made to shed tears able to grant something sought after throughout history: immortality."

"Immortality," Inspector Hakuba repeated, utterly deadpan.

He was answered by Kid's wry smile. "Sounds an unlikely story, doesn't it? But some people believed it. And they wanted it so much that they were willing to do whatever it took to find it."

The Inspector's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Saguru found an irregularity in the far wall and stared at it rather than watch. Kid was being used to tell this story because Kaito as no more than himself lacked the emotional distance to do so without reopening old wounds. Not after everything that had happened today.

A smooth gesture, palm up, caught Saguru's peripheral vision, and his imagination outlined the glove that should be there. "So these people looked for a thief. They went to the greatest magician in the world and told him to steal the jewels on their behalf, so that they might find the stone they sought."

Hakuba's gaze flicked to meet Saguru's, the spark of recognition and wordless question obvious. Saguru tilted his head fractionally in confirmation; Kaito wouldn't have phrased it that way if he hadn't intended the Inspector to understand that the story was about Touichi.

"Can you guess what the magician did?"

The Inspector shook his head slowly once, eyes intent.

Again the slight, unreadable curve of Kid's smile. "The magician did precisely what they asked, but not for them. He sought to find it first, and so keep it out of their reach forever."

His hand dropped, a slight shift of posture returning his head to the angle that should have hidden his face behind monocle and shadow and white hat-brim. "The people who wanted the stone found out, and set a trap for him. One that even he could not escape, for all his magic." A brief silence. "The story does not end there, of course. He hid his legacy away in a secret place, before they sprang their trap." A casual shrug, the cape it should have rippled absent. "And then one day, the magician's son found that legacy, learned the story... and took on the role in his place."

Kaito finally met the Inspector's eyes squarely, stance relaxing from its formality, but still smiling that faint smile. "It was all a bit before your time, of course. But the magician was once known as the Kaitou Kid."

The Inspector's expression froze. How many old war stories Nakamori had told his son-in-law-to-be of the thief who'd always returned his quarry to its rightful owner, before he'd vanished into mystery?

"We didn't actually tell you how the two of us first met, did we?" Saguru eventually managed with something that could pass for equanimity.

"...No," the Inspector confirmed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But if you're a detective and he's a thief, I think I can make an educated guess."

Kaito theatrically raised his nose high in the air, crossing his arms. "You can't prove anything!"

And that was a perfect specimen of Kaito's class clown act, the civilian mask that he'd only recently grown comfortable enough to drop for Saguru. ...Or possibly was too exhausted to maintain, but Saguru hoped for the former.

Choosing to follow Kaito's lead, Saguru permitted himself a mild eyeroll. "You'd be well outside his jurisdiction anyway."

"It would be hard to explain why the fingerprints of Kuroba Kaito belong to someone five years too young, as well," Hakuba allowed, the faintest amusement curving one side of his mouth.

Kaito sniffed. "As if you'd ever get the chance to make that an issue." He waggled his fingers in the direction of the hole in spacetime they'd emerged from, now long vanished.

"I'd ask if you ever stopped trying to make everyone's day more surreal," Saguru commented dryly, "but I've known you more than long enough to know the answer."

The Inspector gave them a considering look. "How long have you known one another?"

"Not nearly long enough for him to have made up for that heist with the hair dye and glitter-bombs," Saguru muttered dourly. Kaito snickered.

"I... see."

Saguru took pity on the man. "Approximately fifteen months and two weeks, and we've been classmates for most of it."

"When you weren't skipping class without a care to go solve mysteries."

"Cases, thank you, and there's this remarkable concept known as self-study."

"So you started chasing Kid when he 'returned'," Hakuba interrupted, "but now you've decided to aid and abet in the hopes of taking down this criminal organization that is..." he grimaced unhappily but finished, "seeking immortality."

Saguru decided it wasn't worth correcting the man about the exact timeline of Kid's reappearance, and the aiding and abetting was technically true. "I decided amnesty for a single thief was fair trade for catching an entire gang of murderers."

"Mmm. ...Tell me what you know about these people."

Saguru exchanged a glance with Kaito. "That would take considerably longer than we have at the moment."

Hakuba ran a hand through his hair. "We can always come back to it. I'm already having to make up for lost time, quite literally."

Although Kaito sighed, the Inspector did have a point. "If you really want to. Where do you want to start?"

Hakuba took a moment to think. "You already mentioned that they were searching for immortality. Is that their only goal? How big a group is it? What are their resources? How long have they been active?"

Kaito took another moment to marshal his reply, but thankfully the mask of Kid made no reappearance. Perhaps because this was about the present—things Kaito was actively addressing as best he could—and not about the past. "Personally, I've only encountered the ones after that jewel, but... there's good reason to believe that there are other branches pursuing other leads. I don't have very solid or confirmed data, since I don't know how many of the details are the same here in your world. He'd know a lot more, when he wakes up, and I might know of some others, I'd have to check, but for just the basics... The group is very extensive, very secretive, and they're not reluctant to employ deadly force to solve their problems. They like making 'accidents.' I have reliable reports of them using snipers, explosives, poisons, helicopters... they don't seem to have any trouble getting hold of guns, despite the ban. They've shown interest in all kinds of things: potential candidates for the legendary jewel, of course, but also work in advanced biochemistry, programming, game theory, extortion and blackmail..."

He trailed off, shaking his head, but continued, "They have a habit of using code names for their agents. The ones who've come after me personally have mostly used animals for their callsigns. But the other branch... they use types of alcohol, and they like to wear black. 'Like crows.'" Kaito gave a momentary faint grimace, as though the phrase had been drawn from an unpleasant memory. "You... probably should know about at least a few of their most dangerous members. One particularly ruthless agent, Gin, should be easy to recognize. He's tall, typically wears a black trenchcoat and fedora, and has really distinctive long, silver hair, long enough to reach his lower back. His usual partner, Vodka, is stockier, square-jawed, and always wears dark glasses with his black suit and hat. He's Gin's subordinate, but that just means he takes care of details and deals with talking to people when it's more inconvenient for Gin to kill them. If you ever encounter them, you should always consider them armed and extremely dangerous."

Kaito paused and swallowed. "And you absolutely have to know about Vermouth. She... she's the reason things went differently here than they did for me." He took a deep breath. "She's a master manipulator who loves power games, and an extraordinary actress with expert-level skill in the art of disguise." His mouth twisted slightly. "As well she should, since she learned it from Kuroba Touichi."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Inspector Hakuba. Kaito smiled, too brittle for Saguru's peace of mind. "Oh yes. The trouble with dealing with Vermouth is that you never know what face—male or female, young or old—she might be wearing this time. And no one seems to quite know why, or how, but her true appearance is somehow at least twenty years too young for her age, enough for her to convincingly masquerade as her own daughter. Given who she works for, though, perhaps her continued youth isn't so entirely implausible."

"After today," Hakuba said with a humorless little smile, "the breadth of 'plausible' seems stretched to the breaking point."

Kaito's laugh was barely a puff of breath. "We'll have to be sure to save some for tomorrow. But for now... you need to know about Vermouth not only because of how dangerous she is, but also because she's the one who took him, that day," he gestured at the unconscious operative, "and made him her pet project."

Inspector Hakuba's eyes narrowed in thought. "So you mean he's loyal to her?"

Saguru winced in tandem with the strangled sound Kaito made in response. "That's..." Kaito trailed off, sounding strained. "Not by choice. She's... she set herself up as his only authority, his only human contact, at the start of it. And then made herself his trainer, his superior, and his lone handler, the one who gave all the orders and took all the reports." He paused, staring pensively at the futon. "He... recognizes her authority. Or did. But I don't think he ever quite stopped hating her."

Hakuba looked vaguely disquieted, but nodded. "I see." He took a breath. "Is there anything else about these people that I should know?"

Saguru darted a concerned glance at Kaito and smoothly picked up the thread. "The group has members at every level of society, from businessmen to diplomats to run-of-the-mill thugs. Their resources are... similarly extensive. These people have had dedicated laboratory research into cellular generation for nearly fifty years—" he swore foully and rounded on Kaito. "Miyano. We're five bloody years late for Kudou-kun to have run across her."

Kaito hunched his shoulders a little. "Not necessarily."

Saguru raised his eyebrows. "No?"

"There's a middle school girl with reddish-brown hair in Kudou's circle. She's off-limits even in the Game... he's not sure if she knows about her, and doesn't want to draw attention to her either way."

Inspector Hakuba gave them a slightly sour look. "I'm afraid I left my decoder ring in my other coat."

Saguru offered an apologetic smile. "Where we're from, a young woman was raised by the organization to follow in her deceased parents' footsteps. They were biochemists; she managed to create a drug that in over ninety-nine percent of cases, killed without any trace remaining in the bloodstream. For the final fraction of a percent, it managed to trigger a chain of cellular processes such that the victim would de-age by approximately ten years."

Hakuba's hand twitched in such a way that when he finally pinched the bridge of his nose again, Saguru suspected he'd narrowly avoided covering his entire face. "Of course it does."

Kaito ignored the comment. "She'd be exactly the sort of contact we're looking for… provided we can convince Kudou to get on board."

"...Kudou Shinichi? The blind detective of Beika? What does he have to do with all of this?" Hakuba's eyes narrowed. "Why would he be an issue? What's this 'game' with him you mentioned?"

Kaito hesitated. "It's complicated."

"Enlighten me."

Kaito glanced from the Inspector to the operative and back again, hesitated, and opened his mouth to reply, only to whip his head back in the direction of the futon, Saguru automatically following his gaze.

The unconscious man's brows were furrowed, expression now a faint grimace. He shifted slightly with a soft, distressed sound they might have missed if the room hadn't gone completely silent.

Saguru found himself and moving in tandem with Kaito to flank Inspector Hakuba. The three of them stood, tense and watchful, between the futon and the open doorway. Saguru's hand went to the reassuring weight of the collapsed staff in his pocket. After an instant's internal debate he pulled it out and expanded it, holding it ready for what small comfort having it on hand could provide, and waited.

The man soon stirred, blinking open dazed eyes still tight with the distress that had prompted Kaito to sedate him in the first place. It took only a moment or two for something to attract his attention in their direction. As soon as he turned his head and saw Inspector Hakuba, he froze so completely it was impossible to tell if he was still breathing, eyes going wide in disbelief and a startlingly vulnerable blend of emotions.

"...Hakuba-san?" he asked, sitting up as though he wasn't quite aware he was doing it, voice small and almost desperately pleading in a way that seemed better suited to someone far younger. Someone without his capacity to be a deadly threat.

Inspector Hakuba shifted slightly in justified wariness, but eventually gave a careful nod.

The operative stared at him, eyes still frozen wide, thoughts and feelings flickering across his expression too quickly to read. He took a desperate sort of breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and faster than any of them could react practically lunged across the intervening distance, both hands closing on Inspector Hakuba's coat before the Inspector could properly evade.

When Hakuba flinched but failed to vanish into thin air, the operative crumpled to his knees, trembling, his grip still so unrelenting that Hakuba had to drop to one knee to avoid being pulled down to the floor. "Sorry," Kaito's black-clothed counterpart almost choked out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—shouldn't have—" he trailed off with a shudder, ducking his head. "I'm sorry."

Saguru swallowed against an uncomfortable degree of deja vu at the sight. Superficial similarities aside, this was not actually the same situation as that nerve-wracking visit in the small hours of the morning after Jack Connery's death that had launched Saguru into this insanity in the first place.

The Inspector stared down at the shivering operative attached to his coat with a completely reasonable degree of controlled alarm. At least for someone who'd been practically tackled by a criminal last seen murdering his doppelganger. They were lucky Hakuba had managed to restrain himself; judging by the twitches, the Inspector had barely refrained from reflexively redirecting the operative's momentum and throwing him across the room.

It was disconcerting, the sheer contrast between the armed and deadly Organization thief they'd seen on the monitor screens and this haunted, defeated echo. He clung to the Inspector's coat as though it was the only thing holding him up, shoulders hunched defensively and still muttering a broken litany. "I'm sorry—didn't get it, didn't understand—should've...wish I'd—should've never—I'm sorry."

For all that both wore the same black costume, they were practically two different men, and Saguru wondered again what the operative must have been through—what the unrelenting dreams must have been like—to change him so drastically.

He couldn't entirely tell what Inspector Hakuba made of it; his counterpart was still staring at the thief, expression settled into wearily resigned patience. The Inspector shook his head slightly, then carefully slipped a hand into an upper inside pocket of his coat without disturbing the other man's grip on the fabric. He withdrew his gun and offered it back to Saguru in a smooth, discreet motion, meeting Saguru's startled glance with a deadpan raised brow.

"Given how easily yours makes off with handcuffs, I don't want to risk this one getting his hands on it," he murmured, voice low and even.

Saguru accepted the firearm with alacrity and carefully stowed it away, confirming with a quick glance that the operative still didn't seem to be paying attention to anything but his need to apologize. "A reasonable concern."

"I thought as much." Hakuba looked back to—well, Saguru could actually think of him as Kuroba, at this point—and seemed to weigh his options carefully. "...If I accept your apology, will you stop repeating yourself?"

Kuroba's breath hitched mid-apology and his head jerked up to meet Hakuba's mildly exasperated gaze. He tried to speak, but only seemed capable of managing a vaguely bewildered, interrogative noise.

"I won't say I forgive you," Hakuba continued. "Not at this point. I'm not even going to pretend to be anything but still unhappy about the matter. But I do believe that you mean it, now, when you say you're sorry and wish you had understood then."

Kuroba let out a pained little noise of assent, a desperate nod nearly burying his forehead back in the Inspector's coat.

Hakuba waited for a moment, looking down at him. "...Is there any chance you will agree to let go of me now?"

His only response was a small near-whimper. If anything, Kuroba's grip on the coat tightened. Hakuba pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Alright, then. Come on."

Saguru watched in faint amusement as the Inspector steered Kuroba back toward the futon. It was mostly by the strategy of moving that way himself, slowly but inexorably, which left Kuroba with the choice of either accompanying him or letting go. A few minutes of prodding later, they were both seated on the futon, Hakuba with his back securely against the wall and Kuroba half-curled next to him, head bent and face mostly hidden in the sleeve of the Inspector's coat.

Saguru watched them with cautiously hopeful concern. Having Kaito's nightmare-world counterpart stuck on 'desperate apology' was still far better than any of what they'd seen from the man when they first arrived. Oh, Kuroba undoubtedly assumed that the Inspector's presence was simply another dream, especially after having just met Kaito and Saguru, but he was at least completely focused on what was in front of him.

It hadn't been clear before, but after seeing the night of the heist, and now watching Kuroba's reaction to the Inspector... when Saguru and Kaito had first arrived in this world, even when he'd ostensibly talked to them, the operative had still only really been paying attention to whatever was going on inside his own head. True, the man had assumed they were figments of his imagination, but beyond the surface veneer of coherence he'd acted like he was carrying on a conversation with himself—and an unsettlingly fragmented one, at that. At least right now, the manic guilt that had alarmed them so badly had an external target, one that Kuroba still cared about enough for it to ground him for the moment.

Inspector Hakuba was apparently somewhat less than delighted at being that target. He shot both Kaito and Saguru a look of silent exasperation before turning his head to address the thief almost plastered to his arm. More gently than Saguru would have expected, he asked, "So you really didn't understand, that night?"

Kuroba shuddered with another of those breaths that was half-laugh, half-sob. "Thought I did. Of course I thought I did—" and that breath was definitely a despairing, hysterical laugh, "and how did I not know how wrong that was? How do you forget what it means to kill someone? To let it become just part of the job, just how you get people out of the way—and your reason for avoiding it is just to avoid loose ends, the resources to clean it up and the notation on your performance review—" he broke off, venomous frustration and frantic guilt giving way to shuddering, too-fast gasps for air.

The was a faint hitch of breath from beside Saguru, as well. He took one look at the way Kaito's expression appeared like he'd been punched in the gut, pulled him over to a wall of their own, and made him sit with his head down. He settled beside Kaito, dropping his staff on the nearest patch of floor, and hissed in Kaito's ear, "Breathe."

By the time Saguru was satisfied with his classm—his friend's precarious stability, the Kuroba across the room was already going on, sounding lost. "How'd she do it? When did I start listening? Actually believing the way she—no, all of them made it seem like it was just... how things were. That it was obviously weak and ridiculous to care about things like that, for them to matter, that—how do you forget how to care?"

Saguru couldn't stop himself from wincing at the depth of bewildered pain in Kuroba's voice. The whole exchange was uncomfortably reminiscent of that other Kudou after they'd pried him free of Vermouth's grip, only worse. Kaito's reaction made far too much sense.

"How... how do you forget that you're dealing with other people?" Kuroba broke off with a small, choked sound. "...I'm sorry. I know, I know, you said I shouldn't—you know I am, already, but—you, you were the first one to use my name since—since they... How did I not realize? You were trying to remind me of all of that, of... of everything I was supposed to know, so why didn't I understand, before it was too late?"

Saguru took a deep, deliberate breath. While this was still less alarming than the terrifyingly unstable fatalism they'd witnessed before Kaito had sedated him, the sheer unabating anguish hurt to listento.

"Because someone invested a great deal of time, effort, and knowledge of exactly what they were doing in order to ensure that you wouldn't," Inspector Hakuba replied, managing to sound at once grim and almost gentle. "You wouldn't do things the same way now if you had them to do over, would you?"

The single harsh laugh he provoked out of Kuroba sounded so raw that it had to have hurt his throat, no matter how skilled at controlling his voice he was supposed to be. "The same? There's—why did they even—there was no reason, there was never any reason to! There's no reason that those assignments couldn't have been accomplished without—no one should have had to die! I never even thought to just... wait, to avoid them, just let it take more time, or—why was there never the equipment, something so simple as a tranquilizer, or, or even a taser—nothing was ever mentioned, I was never trained to—I had the skills! I could have done it the longer way, just a little more time and effort, just from me, alone, only me, and no one would ever have had to... but none of them ever had any interest in that, did they?" His voice went abruptly bitter.

"It's what they wanted, isn't it? My work wouldn't have been an effective threat without actual casualties." He laughed again, harsh and pained. "They didn't want me to be nonlethal. Just efficient," he nearly spat the word, frustration half-threatening to choke him. "And I... I did it, learned what she wanted me to, why did I ever listen to her, until it never even occurred to me to think to do it otherwise—until I thought that their methods made sense, how could I ever have..."

He trailed off with another small, wounded sound, burying his face against the Inspector's sleeve and curling in on himself even farther. Voice so small that the plaintive question was almost too muffled to hear, he asked, "How did they manage to teach me to be cruel?"

Inspector Hakuba's eyes met Saguru's from across the room. Saguru didn't know what the man expected from him and so ignored him in favor of Kaito, who was curled into his own distressed huddle, hands clasped tightly over the back of his neck. Saguru didn't quite dare try to attempt to help verbally, not when he didn't want to remind Kuroba of their presence. He took a moment to be devoutly thankful for the bronze of his glasses and gloves; without them, the events of the past hour or so would probably have rendered him catatonic, practice or no practice. Shifting to better drape an arm over Kaito's shoulders, he hoped the tight grip would convey the support he was trying to offer.

"So you don't want to hurt anyone anymore." The Inspector's voice was slow and calm, and Saguru spared the man an incredulous glance, because wasn't that much obvious by this point? Surely it couldn't be worth provoking more of the harsh, choked laughter that followed the question.

"Of course I don't! Now that it's far, far too late for it to do any good!" Kuroba's despondent laughter was starting to sound as broken as it had before Saguru and Kaito's unplanned jaunt through time. If he hadn't had his own Kaito to look after, Saguru would have gone over to intervene. They'd been trying to find a way to stabilize him, not shatter him further!

"I can't make up for it, you know. All of it. Any of it." Kuroba's tone had suddenly gone level, almost conversational. Saguru might have taken that as a good sign if it hadn't had a disturbing resemblance to the similar shift when he'd earlier asked Saguru whether he should let Saguru watch him die. Kuroba continued, "Not just you, though of course you'd understand what I mean—how many lives did I destroy, how many families? How much irreparable damage did I do that I can't even remember because I didn't even register them individually at the time? At least with you I have the chance to apologize, even if it is just in a dream."

Kuroba sounded only distantly sad, now, the similarity to how he'd sounded right before he'd stared down the barrel of a live, loaded gun raising all the hairs on the back of Saguru's neck. He rechecked the outlines of both guns beneath his coat for reassurance that they were far, far out of Kuroba's reach, intensely grateful that Inspector Hakuba had had the sense to re-surrender his sidearm.

Staring hard at Hakuba, Saguru willed him to pick up on the urgent dismay in his expression and realize that he was in dangerous territory. Kuroba went on, now limp against the wall and the Inspector's arm, "I can't even do anything about the ones I do remember. Can't fix it. Not just you; even the ones who're still... Inspector Nakamori. Kudou Shinichi." Saguru couldn't see much of Kuroba's face, but his expression echoed the unfeigned note of grief in his voice.

Inspector Hakuba's eyes had hardened at the reminder of Nakamori's crippling injury, but now he blinked. "Kudou-kun? What did you do to—" he cut off, eyes going wide in sudden appalled realization. "You mean, the one who blinded—that was—?"

Saguru saw Kuroba actually flinch. "Yes," he admitted, tone gone complicated and pained again. "He wouldn't have publicized it, not after what I started..."

Kuroba's face contorted and he drew himself up again. "It shouldn't have been like that. It shouldn't have gone that way, not for him. Not for any of them!" His fist thudded deep into the futon. "What kind of plans ask for things like that? Encourage them, even when they don't say so outright?" He shook his head, staring down at nothing. "Why did I let them? Why didn't I ever see?"

He paused for breath, then gave a short, mirthless laugh. "If I did things over, you said? But that's the problem, isn't it? The wrong question. If I knew what—what I always should have, I wouldn't do it over, I'd do it right." He grinned at nothing, sharp and pained and humorless. "Wouldn't stay. Wouldn't let them keep me in the first place, no matter what they thought. Wouldn't ever let them trick me into thinking the way down was the way out, not when it was really just them using me for their dirty work. Wouldn't help them, wouldn't ever, not when they took me because I'm supposed to have been like Da—"

Kuroba fell abruptly silent, face suddenly losing all of what little color it'd had. "No," he breathed, little more than a whimper. "No," he repeated, now a desperate, stricken whisper.

There was a single full second of perfectly still silence.

Then Kuroba crumpled utterly, hyperventilating in great, ragged gasps. "Dad... Dad, I didn't—it wasn't—I forgot that they were the—I didn't mean—I'm sorry, Dad, I'm sorry, I—!" The frantic babble of apology dissolved into terrible, wordless, agonized keening.

Saguru cringed, holding onto Kaito as tightly as he could even as Kaito huddled further inward in response to the note of utter despair in Kuroba's sudden epiphany. Inspector Hakuba tried to get through to him again, but Kuroba didn't appear to register any of it, not even the Inspector calling his name with increasing alarm. After several fruitless attempts Hakuba gave Saguru an utterly helpless look. Saguru shot him a look of tight-lipped impatience and made a sharp, exasperated gesture for him to hurry up and do something.

The Inspector stared back down at the thief having a breakdown practically on him, clearly at a loss for what he could safely assume would actually help. Eventually Hakuba shook his head, set his jaw, and set about very, very carefully extricating himself from the heavy material of his coat without overly disturbing the relevant sleeve. Once that was accomplished, he briskly but carefully emptied several pockets before glancing at Kuroba again and apparently deciding to leave the rest. Slowly, with a great deal of caution and creativity, he succeeded in leaving the sleeve already in contact with Kuroba in place as he gingerly wrapped the rest of the coat around him.

Kuroba's keening had already mostly given way to rough, anguished hyperventilation, but there was a small sound like a whimper as the fabric fell over him. He curled in on himself, almost burrowing into it, and Hakuba resettled carefully against the wall beside him with a watchful eye.

The sobs started quietly.

Both Saguru and Hakuba tensed as they increased in volume and strength until the coat-shrouded form was visibly shuddering, but the wild hysteria of before didn't return. There was only the steady sound of helpless, heartbroken weeping.

Saguru kept his arm over Kaito's shoulders as reassuringly secure as he could make it. Had Kuroba ever gotten the chance to properly grieve that first catastrophic loss, back then? Given everything Saguru'd managed to piece together from observation and Kaito's sparse descriptions, likely not. Not when it would have meant exposing weakness that Vermouth would take ruthless advantage of.

Inspector Hakuba didn't speak again until everything eventually faded back to quiet, the figure slumped beside him finally relaxing into the complete limpness of unconsciousness.

Voice shaking very slightly, Hakuba stated, "I think we may need to discuss the precise meaning of 'not well'."

Saguru instinctively glanced at Kaito, only to realize that the inanimate weight against his side had come from Kaito falling into exhausted sleep against him. He sighed. It was going to be a long day.

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Ocianne

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