DISCLAIMER: Magic Kaito is the respective creation and property of Gosho Aoyama.
AUTHOR: Melpomene-the-Tragic-Parody
MAIN CHARACTERS: Kaito Kuroba, Aoko Nakamori
CHAPTER: #15
TITLE: Crazier
INSPIRED BY: ~ Crazier, by Taylor Swift ~
~M.K~
Aoko woke with a hollow uncertainty in her stomach. Or perhaps it was hunger? No, after a moment of stretching and groaning, she was sure that her jittery nerves had tunneled out a little spot in her middle and snuggled in for a nap. She couldn't put her finger on why she had that feeling as she tossed away the bedsheets and hurried off to the bathroom for her morning rituals. The lack of sound in her house, besides running water on her toothbrush, alerted her that her father had already left for work.
Another Kid heist had presented itself, leaving Aoko with the weary knowledge that her father wouldn't be home until dinner (unless he ate takeout), so she wouldn't have to make his breakfast as she usually would. Was that the reason for the nerves? She always worried about the inspector whenever Kid was involved. There were too many opportunities for mayhem!
Her stomach rumbled at the delectable aroma of eggs, toast, and broth. Once she was certain the food was nearly finished, she then went about her ritual of screaming from her balcony to Kaito's, waking the sleepy boy and enforcing her ('unnecessary,' as Kaito had established) role as his unofficial caretaker. Someone had to keep him from starving from stubbornness.
Kaito was busy flapping a slice of toast between his teeth as she brought over two hot cups of coffee to the table, his dark mop of hair sticking up in its familiar, unstyled, uncombed mess. His idle attention was directed to the news broadcast she had set on the television. He blinked in her direction as if now noticing her presence when she finally joined him to break their fast.
"Honestly, what are you doing at night?" Aoko asked disbelievingly. "You don't go to cram school or any of our school clubs! How are you so tired?"
Kaito stuffed the toast into his mouth, splattering his lips with crumbs.
"I was out late by Jii-chan," he garbled, forcing the dry confection down his throat. "What does it matter? It's eight on Saturday! That's ungodly!"
Aoko rolled her eyes. Honestly, it was irresponsible and unhealthy to wake up any later unless one had to work late and it couldn't be helped; Kaito had no such excuse to back his claims!
"Shouldn't you be going soon anyway?" Kaito asked, slurping down the broth as loudly as he could, just to annoy her.
Aoko blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"
Kaito paused over the broth, carrots dripping from his spoon. "Uh, with Keiko. You said you were taking those classes with her."
The hollowness in her middle yawned as if suddenly remembering its relevance.
The classes. Wasn't that next Saturday? Her wide eyes sought out the calendar beside the refrigerator, fishing for the date to correct his assumption, only for her entire body to flare up in alarm! The day's date was circled in bright green ink, with the words 'Dance lessons' written in bold letters.
And they started in an hour.
Aoko emitted a string of unsavory words and glared down at her barely touched breakfast, ignoring Kaito's blush at her rashness. There was no time to eat if she wanted to get there in time. She hastily grabbed some of the toast and scalded her tongue trying to finish her coffee.
"Put the food away for me, thanks!" she called over her shoulder as she sped up the stairs to her room for the box of shoes she had purchased specifically for the classes. She was out of the door before Kaito could get a word in edgewise.
She certainly gave Kid a literal run for his money. That was for sure.
~M.K~
Keiko's father was getting remarried that year. The Western-styled wedding was only a month away and Keiko had been instructed to take dance lessons to improve her inexperience in time for the grand event. However, Keiko had been reluctant to go alone, so Aoko had volunteered to take the lessons with her, only to realizing later that she and dancing were not compatible.
It was an unfortunate inheritance from her father. They were terrific at sports, ice skating, and running, but dancing? Their bodies just didn't know how to cooperate, like a marionette guided by tangled strings.
Aoko vaguely remembered taking dance classes as a young child with Kaito, but she had lost her patience with it. Her father had withdrawn her from further lessons before her nine-year-old-self had a complete fallout with the instructor, a very strict woman who still gave Aoko nightmares to this day. It was one of the unfortunate times where she had conceded defeat to something she just could not accomplish. Then again, she had been a child. As far as Aoko knew, though, Kaito didn't dance anymore. He gave up the classes when his father died because the activity had initially been at the older man's insistence.
Luckily, Aoko made it to the subway station in time for the next trip downtown, where the dance studio was located. She had eaten her toast and due to her running, she was thirsty. But she found the studio in time, ignoring the vague sense of déjà vu that came with it. Keiko was standing patiently outside the door, keeping a slightly apprehensive lookout for her.
"You made it!" Keiko exclaimed in relief. "I almost thought you got lost."
"Heh, sorry," Aoko said apologetically. She hunched over on her knees, her bag containing her dancing shoes pressed against the side of her leg. "I'm just—"
"Winded. Did you run all the way here?" Keiko joked as they entered the building. The blast of cool air from the conditioning unit was a welcome feeling for the young Nakamori. She bought herself a bottle of water from the vending machine near the door and followed Keiko to the upper floor.
There was a sizable number of people gathered there, men and women of all ages waiting for the instructor, a woman called Sakurai. Aoko shivered anxiously; it was as though a demon had breathed on her neck. She wasn't sure why this time. That was until she saw the instructor with her own two eyes.
She was officially doomed.
~M.K~
"Oi. You still alive?"
Aoko had enough energy to crane her head around and glare up at her best friend from her odd angle on the sofa, sprawled out like a rag doll. Her feet throbbed and her head hurt and she just wanted him to go away. After Keiko had treated her to lunch, she had returned to her empty home to decompress and de-stress in a nice, long bath. She hadn't made it far. The farthest her aching feet could muster was to the living room. She only woke up when Kaito returned to bother her.
"She's going to kill me."
Kaito blinked at her blunt assessment, his mental cogs churning to understand her.
"What, you flattened Keiko's feet or something?"
His sarcasm wasn't helpful and neither was it welcomed. Aoko reached out for the nearest throw pillow and chucked it at Kaito's head with enough force to cleanly behead him. He yelped in alarm and dodged it with typical expertise.
"No! It's Sakurai-sensei! She's going to kill me!"
There was a moment of silence. Then, Kaito went as pale as a sheet, his eyes wider than billiard balls. "You don't mean…?"
Aoko nodded hopelessly. "Yeah, it's her!"
'Her' was a sensitive subject. By 'sensitive', the implication referred to their childhood dance instructor who was both still alive and stricter than any devil in hell. Sakurai was an older woman who must have been quite a beauty in her youth and a renowned dancer back in the day. She was considered one of the best dancers this side of Beika. The only problem was that she was insanely specific, and if you messed up, she made you practice until you wanted to chop your own feet off.
The temptation seriously weighed on Aoko at this moment.
"Damn." Kaito plopped himself down beside her. "Of all the rotten luck."
"If I'd have known she was who Keiko had signed us up with…" Aoko sighed and forced herself to sit up. "I knew the name was familiar but I didn't think it was her! She even remodeled the studio so I didn't even recognize it at first! This is going to be a nightmare!"
Kaito winced. "Did she remember you?" Her expression said it all. "Look at it this way: you only have three classes a week for a month."
"That's twelve days!" The idea that, for the foreseeable future, she would have to endure that chilling glare, that sharp, cutting tone, alongside the feeling that the entire room had been stuffed with cotton was horrifying. One young couple had already quit the class out of fear. She had been tempted to join them but stayed for Keiko's sake. "She's teaching us the waltz and the mambo. You'd have thought that almost a decade later, she would have mellowed out."
Kaito snorted. "Not likely. That woman's half-demon."
Aoko honestly had no reason to argue a defense.
"Should I even ask how it went?" he continued. Aoko's heated glare set him in his place. The answer was definitely 'no'.
~M.K~
The following weeks tested both Aoko's patience and sanity. It was an unfortunate turn that prompted her to order in at dinnertime because standing on her sore feet to cook was immensely aggravating. Thankfully, Ginzo Nakamori had quickly caught onto her predicament and was sure to buy meals and help with the cooking as much as possible. It was the only fail-safe way to prevent her from exploding on him and Kaito.
In comparison, Kaito's presence had significantly decreased, though it wasn't for a lack of effort. He was always around for breakfast, even without her insistence. Funnily enough, he was well-versed in remedies to ease strenuous pain on her muscles and joints. He owned a variety of oils and lotions that his mother sent from her travels. Aoko had rarely noticed that Kaito was regularly encompassed by the scents found in several bottles, most of which were peppermint and roses. The young magician was reluctant to admit that the reason was related to certain tricks which had gathered less than desirable results.
He refused to specify what and how.
But she was touched that he had attempted to help. Her most trialing challenge was practicing on her own; she was glad to remove the dance shoes at home when trying to perform the steps because Sakurai simply wouldn't allow bare feet on her dance floor, even if they were wearing socks. Her soles protested ruefully as she attempted to align her steps with the music blaring on her phone; how she managed to step on and bruise her own toes was a hollow mystery to her.
If it wasn't her feet, it was her balance, and if it wasn't her balance, it was her timing. Her frustration had risen to the point that her blood pressure was probably shot. Eventually, on one hollow evening, Aoko succumbed to resignation and slumped down on the sofa. She was nowhere near ready for the next day's practice. She had improved moderately, but compared to most of the class, she was a hopeless cause.
She overheard Sakurai say it to herself the other day and it had taken Aoko's full inner patience and strength to resist snapping at the woman like a wounded animal. Wasn't there a difference between instructive criticism and brutal degradation? Some encouraging coach she was….
Two knocks banged at the sliding door to the kitchen and Aoko turned in time to see Kaito stroll in with two plastic bags, which he summarily left on the counter.
"Yo, Aoko!" he greeted, swinging his book bag on the seat beside her.
"Hey, Kaito," she replied halfheartedly. "I thought you were spending the day with Jii-san."
"Nah, he's going out of town for the weekend," Kaito replied. "He sent over some food and a cake he was given by a customer. Says he can't eat it. Doctor's orders."
Aoko's lips curved upward. "That was kind of him. Is that why you came over?"
Kaito raised an eyebrow at her. "Uh, no. You said you wanted to study, remember? Because I recall getting my arm wrung for saying no." He rubbed said arm and pouted.
Somewhat winded, Aoko fixed him with a startled stare. She had been so preoccupied with practicing that she had forgotten that she had scheduled a study session so that they could get their assignments out of the way. Then she would have more time to work and she would not have to worry that Kaito was slacking off again.
"Right, well, I guess we should start now, then."
~M.K~
Three hours later, Aoko sighed wearily and glanced at Kaito from across the dining table.
Her childhood friend had abandoned his homework and had opted to doodle on a random sheet of paper, a maddening sight compared to her struggle with her essay. Considering how close they were to the end of the semester, she had hoped that he would jostle in more effort, like her, to complete their assignments and then enjoy his freedom later. But no. Perfect and infuriating Kaito wasn't remotely concerned with his education for the day.
Aoko's eyes darted to the doodle under Kaito's hand and spluttered in surprise.
"Is that supposed to be me?" she inquired waspishly, blood pooling in her cheeks. "Kaito!"
Said person glanced up with a cheeky grin. "What? You don't like it?"
Aoko's blush darkened. Opting to ignore his skill with a pen, she elected to focus on the doodle he had sketched. It depicted their Christmas field trip when they had won the skiing competition. Her doodle-self wore that pretty white dress and styled hair, but the embarrassing part was the fact that he had drawn her father's mustache in as well. The memory of the celebration that night still warmed her heart, despite having had to endure all the teasing that came with their victory and the ridiculous false mustache that she had not been able to remove until the next morning.
"I—I didn't say that," Aoko said, her eyes averted as she shook away the image of his knavish grin beneath the Kid costume. "I just think there are more important things to do with our time right now. I mean, look at you. You still have your essay to complete?"
"Eh?" Kaito raised an eyebrow. "I finished that a half-hour ago."
Aoko stared. "The English one?"
"Yeah. It was a piece of cake."
"What about math?"
"Finished that, too."
"Geography? History?"
"Done and did that yesterday," Kaito replied simply. "Is that what you're struggling with? Thought you'd finished all that by now."
Aoko glared. "Not everyone is you, Kuroba 'I'm-too-clever-for-you' Kaito-sama!" she snapped, her lips pouting with frustration.
Kaito raised his hands defensively. "Jeez, calm down! Damn, the she-devil must have really gotten to you."
Her towering temper tumbled to a tethering stream.
Any thought of that woman had not crossed her mind, but apparently, her earlier frustration had not dissipated as she had originally assumed. There were moments when Kaito genuinely deserved a scolding; this wasn't one of those times … not really. Shrugging with her guilty thoughts, she had not taken notice that Kaito's hands had waved in front of her face until a bouquet of brightly colored roses materialized before her eyes, engulfing her in their sweet aroma. She caught Kaito grinning at her.
How was it that such a simple trick could lift her heart from beneath her sore feet to its rightful place in its chest? Lips lifting upward, Aoko accepted the bouquet and sniffed at the delicate petals; Kaito's brand of roses was always so sweet. One of these days, she would finally convince him to tell her where he got his supply.
"Thank you," she said, smiling.
Kaito sounded that silly laugh of his. "Always here to help."
Aoko breathed in deeply, letting the rose petals tickle her nose. "Then can I borrow your feet? You have better coordination than me."
She at least expected Kaito to scoff at the poor joke, not look disturbed. Had she completely lost her sense of humor?
"How many classes do you have left with the she-devil?"
Aoko blinked and set the bouquet on her lap. Kaito looked entirely serious.
"Six more, since my sixth lesson was yesterday," Aoko said slowly. "Why?"
Kaito sighed as if deliberating over something. Then he held out his palms in a dismissive gesture and said, "'Cuz I'm going to teach you how to dance."
Aoko must have gawked at her best friend like an idiot for an entire minute before nervous laughter finally tore through the silence. Kaito's poker face had set in motion from the moment he had stopped speaking, and it remained when she shook her head.
"Kaito, don't be silly," she said, blushing slightly. "You can't dance!"
"Tch! Of course, I can dance!" he protested, standing up and stretching his arms. "If it's proof you want…" Kaito strolled to the cleared section of the living room, a short way from where they had been studying at the quilt-covered kotatsu, and wordlessly gestured for her to pay attention.
Aoko's lips peeled apart as Kaito gracefully and purposely performed a portion of a waltz with the same ease he had when showing off his magical skills, but that wasn't the only detail that had astounded her to silence.
The choreography was exactly like what Sakurai had taught them. Her mouth fell open.
"You remember the Noodle Incident?" Kaito asked to assuage the awkwardness overtaking the atmosphere in the room. "The one I played on Kogami-sensei?"
Reality timidly settled into place as the memory of a certain occurrence washed over, tickling her funny bone until giggles bubbled out of her mouth. How on earth was she to ever forget such a memorable and highly entertaining event?
Kaito sighed dramatically. The giggles worsened. "Hey, I'm telling a story here!"
Aoko pressed her fingers against her lips. "Sorry, sorry! Um, go on!"
Kaito huffed in mock annoyance. "Anyway… You joined the debate team and you weren't around most afternoons."
"And you were supposed to be grounded," Aoko recalled.
It had been back in middle school when it all happened, and Kaito had gone a touch too far over the line for his mother or the principal to ignore. He had had a brief suspension but had evaded expulsion. Aoko remembered that it was the only period of their lives since they had met that their time spent together had been sparse. Aoko had her club meetings and Kaito had a shipload of chores; whenever she had seen him, he had always been exhausted.
"That was a lie," Kaito continued, looking embarrassed. "Kaa-san found a more painful way of getting her points across."
At first, Aoko was unable to see the correlation between his story and the dancing; that was until she recalled his steps were perfectly in sync with her failing lessons. Then it sunk in like a weight in the ocean.
"She sent you back to Sakurai-sensei," she said softly, taking Kaito's wince as an involuntary confirmation. Her heart thudded numbly. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"And have you crying all over me? I didn't need more trouble." Kaito's ears went pink. "Besides, you didn't need to know. It was all on me. That she-devil put me through hell. It stuck."
Somewhere in her startled brain, the pointed glitch in her memory churned to unravel the common sense of his words. It had only been a few months for which she and Kaito had drifted apart. That wasn't to say he didn't call her from his balcony in the mornings or evenings or teased her at school. But any hangouts had to be scheduled, and his mother had been a pro at preventing him from sneaking out.
Aoko had always assumed the vigorous chores had been the reason for his intense grouchiness and aching muscles, but if it really had been Sakurai… All the little things she had overlooked finally made sense. Kaito had always been flexible like an acrobat, but his grace had lacked. He had shuffled his feet noisily and really only moved with a similar boyishness the other guys in their class still had. But in time, he could move soundlessly, like he was walking on air, and everything about him had become… smoother?
Every movement of his arms and legs, even when they were fighting in class, was effortless. Like watching a gymnast or … a dancer.
Could dancing with that she-demon really be the cause? Was that even possible?
Kaito let her think it over, electing to lean against the kitchen counter and play with his deck of cards, shuffling and flipping them without so much as looking; years of practice had cultivated that talent.
"How long did you go there?" Aoko asked at long last.
"Long enough," Kaito replied. "Kaa-san had me practice even when I left. She went on and on about how Oyaji was brilliant at dancing and said it'd come in handy one day. Looks like she was right." He smirked at her. "Unless you want to play this one by ear?"
"Where's my mop?" Aoko grumbled.
Kaito held up his palms defensively.
"Do you really think you can do better than Sakurai-sensei?" Aoko continued, moving to stand in front of him, renewed worry seeping into her bones. "We both know I'm hopeless."
"Nah. So long as you have a partner who knows what he's doing, you'll be fine," Kaito replied, extending his hand to her. "So, shall we dance?"
~M.K~
Aoko had never really acknowledged how well Kaito perceived her moments of distress. He had always been so calloused or dismissive of matters she had believed to be crucial or important. Regardless, he had made up for them in so many unusual but pleasant ways, and he treated their lessons no differently. In her worst mishaps, he still managed to cheer her up when she made an error instead of trampling all over her hopes like a certain devil.
Kaito was far more proficient at the art of dancing than Aoko had expected. If he had ever been rusty, she would never have known. As the countdown to the wedding closed in, it became clear that for all their squabbles about his teaching methods ("Watch where you're putting your hands, you dumbass!" Aoko shrieked at him one day, almost pounding his skull in for laughing and saying, "Just checking to see if they grew in yet!") and all her mishaps (neither of them understood how Aoko managed to trip and throw them both into the backyard of all places like actual teleportation), he made everything simpler for her to understand, or at least it was less stressful.
Eventually, she stopped stepping on his toes and blushing whenever his hand met her waist.
Even Keiko and Sakurai made note of her surprising progress. Keiko was joyfully impressed, having her own share of mishaps and frustrations. Sakurai didn't analyze her so closely, and even gave the occasional (once) nod of approval. Kaito celebrated with cake, much to Aoko's endeared annoyance.
"I'm starting to look bad next to you," Keiko said earnestly on their walk to the bakery after school dismissal. "I keep bumping into everyone!"
"So do I. Trust me, you're not alone," Aoko reassured her, fairly certain that Keiko kept up her posture and rhythm to the music more accurately. Admittedly though, she no longer stepped on her own feet or toppled out of balance when she had to spin.
"And to think it's less than two weeks to the wedding," Keiko continued. "At least you'll be there to keep me company. Obaa-chan keeps trying to match me with different guys every time she sees me; she doesn't get that I want to study medicine, not get married after high school." Keiko pouted. "I bet you fifty yen she'll have a full list by the rehearsal dinner. I'll warn you if she tries to set you up with anyone."
Aoko smiled uncertainly. That would be awkward.
"Is Kaito-kun going with you?" Keiko asked suddenly. "I said you were bringing someone."
Aoko blushed and shook her head. "Kaito doesn't care much for weddings. I thought Tou-san would like a break from work so I asked him instead." A worrisome thought caught her attention. "Unless Kid suddenly decides to wage a heist. Then he won't even remember."
Naturally, when Kid was involved, the rest of the world evaporated to her father, and as much as he ever loved his late wife and only daughter, they almost came second to his obsession with the infamous criminal, which was just perturbing.
"Well, if he can't make it, drag Kaito-kun," Keiko said, playfully jabbing Aoko around the ribs. "Maybe the love bug will bite!"
Aoko's face burned a bright crimson. "You're worse than your grandmother!"
Keiko only giggled in reply.
~M.K~
Aoko had switched off the television after Kid's latest heist ended, taking time to prepare dinner as she waited for Kaito's arrival for their practice session. The battle for the Violet Lady had been centered at a formal ball by a rich French foreign couple. From what she could gather, Kid had posed as the heiress's husband right down to the main event without her suspecting a thing.
"Well, he was more charming than usual, I suppose," she had said with a simpering laugh. "And Pierre doesn't dance nearly as well."
Aoko tutted and eased her shoes onto her feet. "Honestly, what sort of marriage is that? Not even knowing the little things about the one you love… Why should it matter if Kid's a good dancer or not? He's a criminal! I couldn't care less if he could tap dance! Such a trivial thing wouldn't matter to anyone…"
Aoko's grumbling had overtaken the fact that Kaito had just entered the room. She glimpsed the outline of his still figure him standing in the doorway, looking utterly bemused before his hand clapped over his mouth and hunched over laughing.
"Eh? What's so funny?" she continued, glaring at him.
Kaito shook his head. "Nothing, nothing!" he assured her, but that grin of his was suspicious. "Just thinking."
Aoko was tempted to utter a biting retort, but the last thing she wanted was the chance that he would simply walk out and let her practice alone.
"So, we're going over the Latin moves today," Kaito explained, discarding his bag on the nearest chair. "No waltz."
Aoko nodded in agreement so Kaito set the track up on his phone and took his place beside her. Kaito had always been an enigma to Aoko, but she had never imagined that either of them would ever find themselves in this predicament. Even her father had a pause of incredulity at her news of Kaito's abilities. Nearing the wedding date, Aoko wondered if she would even need to dance. Who would ask her? Not many of their classmates were invited, according to Keiko, which meant that her selection mostly came from people she had never met.
There had been the option of inviting Kaito to go with her in the possibility that her father couldn't attend. However, that placed her father on the short end of the stick and she refused to treat him with such indignity. She had asked already, and he had specifically managed time in his schedule for it.
"Ack!" Kaito exclaimed as they almost barreled onto the sofa. "You're spinning the wrong way again!"
"Sorry!" Aoko squeaked despite herself and jolted out of her random musings. That didn't help her attention to detail. "Can we do that part again?"
Kaito nodded, not appearing as annoyed as he sounded. In fact, she had an inkling that he was concerned for her sanity. She had little reason not to blame him.
The steps were simple. She had nearly mastered most of the basic steps. She often confused the placement of the spin or when to do the crossover steps. The finish was more of Kaito's flourish than her own (which she was grateful for), but it had its unpredictable moments. He occasionally added a dip when she wasn't expecting it to keep the session interesting. They served better than other little tricks he had used to cheer her up.
There had been that time when he had grabbed her in a surprisingly strong grip and lifted her off the ground, sweeping her into dizzying spirals until her shrieks had morphed into giggles. She had gone to bed blushing that night and hadn't even looked him in the eye the next morning, still annoyed that he had the nerve to do such a thing. It knocked the wind from her body and left her knees feeling rather weak. She wasn't sure if it came from the sudden movement or the fact that that cheeky grin of his usually caused her heart to fumble.
"Okay, it's just like we practiced: first arms, basic, crossover, repeat, then spin, back to the basic, and finish." Kaito reset the track on his phone. "Remember?"
"Right. Sorry…" Aoko sighed and shook her shoulders. "I don't know where my head was…"
"I presume on your shoulders," Kaito said flatly. "Unless I've been dancing with a headless corpse…"
Aoko scowled at his smug look. "Just shut up and dance."
~M.K~
Given the path she was on, Aoko knew it was only a matter of time before an unexpected conundrum struck. It appeared that fate had finally been alerted that it had a duty to entangle Aoko's life in strife before she officially concluded that everything was going to be okay. Naturally, all her plans came to an abrupt standstill as a result. Her fingers ached in protest to her relentless wringing and she was painfully aware of the nurses, doctors, and patients rushing back and forth down the hallway.
Aoko wasn't fond of hospitals. It was always too bright and the disinfectant overpowered any chance of fresh air. There were so many people rushing around to the emergency room and intensive care. Given the chance, she would have barreled to the exit to escape the thick atmosphere of the ailing and dying.
But instead, she remained seated to recover from a breathless dash to the nearest taxi after receiving the call informing her that her injured father had been admitted.
Kid's latest heist had had a serious drawback. What had been the basic chase had the unfortunate conclusion of her father tumbling down the stairs (according to one of his subordinates) and now he had a broken leg, fractured ribs, and a concussion. Inspector Nakamori had been more peeved that the phantom thief had escaped more than his current inability to stand without the aid of crutches.
"I'll be back on my feet in no time!" he declared despite his somewhat dazed look.
"No, what you need is rest!" Aoko protested, her hands firmly planted on her hips. "They'll give you some time to recover, and you aren't leaving my sight until I say so!"
The doctor departed with a slightly amused expression at the inspector's deflated reaction.
"She's just like her mother…" Aoko heard her father grumble. She almost smiled.
Her attention was taken by the faint 'oof' outside the door, and she slid it open to find a familiar, dark-haired teen crouching in front of her examining a little white box on the floor. Picking it up, he quickly rose and grinned at her.
"Knock, knock!" Kaito said brightly, holding up the small box and a wrapped bouquet. "Mind if I come in?"
"Kaito!" Aoko's spirits lifted once his customary smirk broke the tension.
"Kaito-kun!" Inspector Nakamori said inaudibly. "What've you got there?"
The two best friends shared patient looks.
"Uh, I saw what happened on the news," Kaito said, unloading the items on the table at the foot of the bed. "These were outside. I thought I'd bring them in."
Aoko frowned and immediately came to inspect the assortment he had just delivered. The flowers were signed by him and Jii, which birthed a new warmth in her chest, but the box and letter were clearly from Kaitou Kid if the doodles inscribed on them were any case.
Cautiously, she flipped the card open and read:
"Dear Inspector,
My sincerest condolences for being unable to greet you in person after our recent encounter. It would be amiss if I were to let this evening fall to this unjust distress. For this reason, I will bequeath the Silver Sunshine to your good hands and concede my defeat until our next encounter, which shall not come to pass until I know that my favorite inspector is prepared for the chase. I bid you good health and well wishes.
Kaitou Kid."
Seething with enough disgust and fury to ignite the devil's fear, Aoko glanced at the only person completely enamored with Kid's news, the inspector. His brightened expression mildly appeased her desire to throttle the phantom thief, thus allowing her to redirect her focus to his message. It was a genuine relief to know that Kid had temporarily ('Why can't he just retire and turn himself in,' she thought) relinquished his insane gem-theft odyssey until her father was fully recovered. She tucked the card in its envelope and brought the box to her father. That dastardly gentleman thief wasn't the type to booby-trap gems he returned and she wasn't about to doubt that tiny shred of integrity she knew he had.
Sure enough, a glittering brooch dazzled the trio as glimmering rainbow refractions burst to life across the walls and ceiling. Crafted to resemble a miniature sunflower and crafted from an impeccably large diamond, Aoko's mouth fell open at just how bright and beautiful it was. There was no doubt as to why it was called Silver Sunshine.
"Where did you get this?" she asked Kaito, allowing her father to inspect the gem.
"It was outside the door," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "I thought one of the orderlies had dropped something, but it had your father's name on it, so…"
Disgruntledly, Aoko wondered if the phantom thief had already escaped from the hospital as her father laughed over another 'victory' against his infamous adversary. For all she knew, he was wandering around dressed as a doctor or patient just to get under everyone's skins.
~M.K~
"He'll be okay," Kaito assured her once they were ushered out by a kindly nurse at the end of visiting hours. "Your dad's a tough guy."
"I just wish he'd slow down," Aoko replied, morose. "He's so busy chasing Kid nowadays, he's disregarding his health. He could have broken more than just his leg!"
Unable to withhold the oncoming tears, Aoko bowed her head slightly and prayed that the darkness would conceal her melancholy from Kaito. Her wishes went unheeded as he offered her one of his many handkerchiefs.
"But he didn't," Kaito reminded her. "That's what matters."
The tightness in her chest unclenched. While Kaito was considerably not the best comforter in these situations, the effect of his company was appreciated. The rest of their journey home resumed in fatigued silence, occasionally accompanied by her phone buzzing in her pocket. In her quiet state, she left it alone until she was inside her house. Kaito had playfully rubbed the top of her head before he left, and it was enough to make her laugh.
Once she was in her room and on her bed, Aoko finally checked her messages. All those texts had been from Keiko.
"She must have heard what happened on the news," Aoko muttered softly, swiping the chat open being greeted with:
Hey Aoko! Do you remember what Amano-sensei said about that assignment?
Text me back when you can! [smiley emoji]
Aoko remembered emailing the notes over and scrolled down to the recent messages.
[multiple shocked emojis]
OMG AOKO IS YOUR DAD OKAY?
I SAW WHAT HAPPENED!
Do you know how bad it is?
They cut the broadcast!
Is Kaito going to the hospital with you?
[multiple worried emojis]
Let me know if he's okay!
There was a sizeable time gap between that message and the following:
I hate being THAT PERSON, but my grandmother asked if your dad is going to be OK for the wedding? She is more concerned with the guest list & catering than him being OK. You don't have to answer. I hope he's feeling better.
It was without saying that Aoko felt a knot form in her chest. The wedding was only four days away! It had completely fallen beyond her notice and now she wouldn't be able to attend. She had to stay home and take care of her father. Guilt nipped at her for having to let Keiko go to this even alone after everything they had done to prepare for it.
"Stupid Kid and his stupid heists!" Aoko complained to herself, smacking her forehead with the phone several times and cursing to herself. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, st—!"
"Aoko?"
Squeaking, Aoko dropped her phone on her nose in alarm.
"Aoko, are you okay?" That was Keiko's voice! Aoko snatched the offending device and blanched at the realization that she had accidentally engaged herself in a voice chat, having left the platform open. "Hello? Are you there?"
"I'm here!" Aoko exclaimed, blushing from the roots of her hair to her toes. "God, I'm so sorry, Keiko! It's late! I didn't mean to wake you!"
She heard Keiko chuckle. "I wasn't sleeping, don't worry! No one can sleep with Obaa-chan and Akihiko-ojisan arguing over the cutlery. Forget them, though, how are you? How's your dad? He's still in the hospital, isn't he?"
"He is," Aoko replied. "He has a broken leg, some fractured ribs, and a concussion. He's let off work and… I'm sorry, Keiko, but I don't think we'll be able to come to the wedding." Aoko sank deeper into her bed. "Tou-san's going to need me now more than ever."
There was a moment of silence on the other end. Aoko almost believed that Keiko had hung up when she heard her sigh.
"There goes my dessert buddy," she finally heard Keiko say. "It'll take me forever to eat your portion!"
A giggle burst from Aoko's lips and she was soon chorused by Keiko's light laughter.
"It's okay, Aoko. Your dad's health matters more," Keiko continued once the laughter died down. "I can video chat the ceremony for you and save samples of everything. It'll be enough to feed you both for a week!"
The heaviness weighing Aoko into the mattress slowly reprieved itself. "Oh, you don't have to make a fuss! You already have so much to do!"
"Uh-uh! I'm not taking 'no' for an answer! I'll bring it all over and we can have our own mini-reception. Deal?"
What did Aoko ever do to deserve a friend like Keiko? "Deal. And Keiko… thank you."
"No problem. But I guess I dragged you to all those dance classes for nothing, huh? Otou-san already invited Sakurai-sensei to the wedding. I actually envy you right now. She's going to eye ME like a hawk."
Aoko winced sympathetically. That did not sound good.
~M.K~
"Don't you have a wedding to prepare for?"
Aoko raised an eyebrow at her bandaged, bemused father sitting comfortably, if not exasperatedly, in front of the television. Once the release paperwork went through that morning, Aoko had diligently escorted a rather embarrassed inspector back to their home. Suffice to say, the commencement of his sabbatical did nothing to appease his boredom of having to remain home to rest and recuperate. It was an unfortunately familiar situation at this point in Aoko's life; her father risked so much and always seemed to suffer a harsh price. She had hoped her effort to cook his favorite cow heel soup would lift his spirits, but it appeared that he had just grown weary of her smothering.
"Tou-san, I can't go to the wedding with you like this," Aoko explained patiently. "I already told Keiko and she's fine with it."
Ginzo huffed. "Nonsense, I'll be fine on my lonesome. Chaki-keishi made it clear if I set foot anywhere near headquarters, they're bringing me back in handcuffs. Go enjoy yourself! You mother me too much."
"But Tou-san, you're not—!" The sharp chime of their doorbell prevented her from elaborating her thoughts on the matter. She adjusted her father's meal tray to include the refilled bowl of soup and straightened up. "You're going to finish your meal. I'll be right back."
Neither father nor daughter had expected any visitors for the day, though the odd phone call wishing the inspector condolences persisted well into the afternoon. She was certain it wasn't Kaito; he had a key to their house and would have waltzed right in without a second thought. Hastening to the door, Aoko's curiosity spiked when she met a rather sheepish-looking Jii on the front porch with a carefully wrapped parcel in his hands.
"Jii-san!" she exclaimed, standing back to invite him in.
"Good day, Aoko-san. Kaito-botchama informed me that your father had been discharged from the hospital," Jii said, neatly tucking his shoes to the side. "Botchama had his own business to attend to, so I thought I'd come over and welcome your father with a platter of juicy sweets."
"Of course, he was just finishing his lunch." Aoko ushered Jii to the living room to meet her father switching through the channels. "Tou-san! We have a guest!"
"Ah! Jii-san! What a surprise! It's good to see you!" Ginzo said good-naturedly. "Why don't you have a seat? Aoko-chan made cow heel soup."
Alarm bells jangled loudly in Aoko's head. It wasn't a common occurrence that her father would address her as 'Aoko-chan' and to her knowledge, her father's familiarity with Jii was a rare phenomenon outside frequenting his bar after a Kid performance. When was the last time she ever saw them interact? But it obvious that she had little to worry about where Jii was concerned. He had worked closely with Kaito's late father and doted on Kaito as though he was his own kin.
Aoko hurried to locate a suitable spot in the refrigerator for the fruit platter while Jii conversed with her father about his recent attempted-capture of Kid. It would have been nice if Kaito had accompanied his friend for the visit as well, but it was often tricky to gather his attention. The general exception only arose if it was a matter of food involved or he wanted to prank her. She still wasn't sure where the dance lessons rated; they were on a scale of their own.
"So, Aoko-san, your father tells me you're attending a wedding," Jii said amicably.
Aoko had just returned with a tray of iced tea for the alarm bells to take their toll once more at their easy camaraderie. This time, Aoko chose to listen. Clearly, her suspicions must have overtaken her expression. Both men wilted into the seat as a trailer for Yoko Okino's new film came on; for once, her father's attention had not been stolen away (and rumor had it that it was one of the few intrigues he shared with a certain sleeping detective).
"Is there something you're not telling me?" she asked, keeping a reasonable head on her shoulders.
Ginzo rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Momoi-san called this morning to send his regards. When he told me you canceled our invitation, I assured him that you were still available to attend, and you are! No injury of mine is going to lock you in this house all weekend, Aoko."
A blush spread across Aoko's face. "Tou-san, it matters to me that you get better! Even Kid postponed any plans for you, and that says loads!"
Neither father nor daughter noticed the mild beam curving on Jii's face.
"Not to worry. I've already taken care of it," Ginzo insisted, waving his hand around. "There's more than enough time for you to reach the venue and Jii-san's agreed to keep an eye on me. I won't get far even if I tried."
Aoko gaped in astonishment. What was happening? "But Jii-san has his bar…."
"We won't be open tonight," Jii assured her. "It's no issue. You're young! Go enjoy yourself, Aoko-san. Your father will be right here when you return, I promise. I won't let him do anything reckless."
"But Tou-san—!"
"I'm not hearing it," Ginzo said firmly. "We can have a fine time arguing it or you can go keep your word to Keiko-kun. All those weeks of classes aren't going wasted on my account. Now, that's an order, young lady, and I won't say it again."
Lost for words, Aoko was vaguely aware that she resembled a goldfish more than her own father. In all her planning and preparation for aiding his recovery, it had completely slipped her notice that he had been on his own mission to accomplish something so simple; mundane even, for a police inspector always focused on work. All her father's plans involved Kid and his capture. He brought those discussions to dinner. They accompanied his morning preparations for his work shift. It had been years since he has simply put aside his ideas to put something important to her first.
Ginzo held back his alarm at the sight of the tears welling in his daughter's eyes and instead braved the sudden embrace that threatened to break his already fractured ribs.
~M.K~
"You'll alert me if he tries anything, won't you?" Aoko insisted as Jii escorted her to the taxi waiting at the front gates. "He'll crawl all the way to HQ if he thought he could get away with it!"
Jii calmly opened the taxi door for her. "He'll never be bored," he said, patting his pocket where a list of instructions had been dutifully written by Aoko, along with backup numbers should her father flee the coup. "These old bones haven't worn out at Kaito-botchama's expense. Your father is in able hands."
For Jii's sake, Aoko sincerely prayed that her father wouldn't kick start a fuss and besmirch his own idea. Her trip to the venue was reasonable, considering that there were moderate traffic issues. Two unexpected detours had been directed by police officers (she could have sworn she spotted that Edogawa boy with the Sleeping Kogoro at what appeared to be a crime scene at a hotel). She was just short of time when she finally sighted the church in which Keiko's father would wed his new bride. She had texted Keiko along the way and had received a very enthusiastic response that, had it not been typed, might have deafened her had it been spoken.
"Aoko!" Keiko chirped happily at the doorway, granting Aoko's hands with a startling tight grip. "Thank the gods, you made it! I love your dress!"
"Thanks," Aoko replied, comforted by the pleasant warmth that followed. "You know me. I always look cute in blue."
In keen spirits, the two friends giggled as they entered the church together. Aoko's lack of preparation for the wedding had flustered her, but thankfully, her previous planning had won through; the outfit she had selected had been all but forgotten in her closet, ready to be worn at a moment's notice. It was a simple powder blue number with a creamy white sash and a sweetheart neckline that teased at a chest Aoko feared would never develop. She only had enough time to brush on a wisp of blue eye shadow, some mascara, and a glossy balm that Keiko had given her before rushing out of the house. She sincerely hoped she still appeared presentable and hadn't perspired it all away.
Keiko had a better time of it. With a flattering mint-green assemble and her hair elegantly twisted into a French braid, Aoko almost had trouble recognizing her on sight. However, she easily spotted the fact that concealer had been generously applied to the circles under her friend's eyes. As joyous as a wedding was, she worried over Keiko's well-being on the matter.
"So, I have to give you a heads up about my grandmother," Keiko said in an undertone. "I know I told you about her whole match-making affair before."
Aoko nodded solemnly. "There's more?"
"You could say that." They halted beside a half-seated pew. "Old-fashioned as she is, she'll certainly stir up gossip if she finds out that you're here without a chaperone and it will haunt you until death. She knows your father's unable to come due to his injuries, so… I told her you came with Hakuba-kun and his parents so she's wouldn't cause a scene. Is that okay?"
Well, it could have been worse.
"Sure. Hakuba-kun's my friend. He won't mind," Aoko assured her.
Keiko nodded fervently. "Good ... because I may have also told her you two were dating so she shouldn't match you with one of my cousins." Aoko gaped, her eyes wider than melons. Blushing terribly, Keiko clasped her hands together in prayer. "I'm so sorry! I panicked and it just slipped out!"
Seconds passed and the only sound Aoko could utter in response was, "Eh? No way!"
Keiko grimaced apologetically.
Had Aoko simply fallen asleep sometime after lunch? This was quickly transforming into one of the most bizarre situations she had ever encountered! From the ushering movement of the other guests, the cogs of her brain toiled to alert her that the ceremony would commence soon.
"Erm... we'll talk about this later," Aoko croaked out. She glanced down the pew and spotted him. "I suppose I'll go sit with… my boyfriend…."
The words were unnatural. It was highly probable that she was currently blushing more than the bride, but she forged her way to the seat beside Saguru Hakuba, her classmate, and friend whom she hoped wouldn't take the situation the wrong way.
"Aoko-san, this is a pleasant surprise," Hakuba said, gracing her with one of his charming and polite smiles. He was as dashing as ever in a dapper suit and neatly combed, bright honey hair. He was currently tucking his pocket-watch away when she sat beside him. "You look lovely."
"Thank you, Hakuba-kun," Aoko replied sheepishly. "Quite debonair yourself."
He chuckled, those brown eyes gleaming. "You wouldn't happen to be flattering me on the account of our—sudden arrangement."
The young Nakamori's heart almost stopped. "Eh?"
Hakuba smirked humorously. "Keiko-san was forward in explaining her earlier blunder. It would be amiss of me to disregard her request on the terms that you willingly concur with her story."
Aoko's hands tangled together nervously. "It was really unexpected," she admitted. "I don't know how to respond to that yet…."
"Perhaps when the ceremony has concluded, you will have reached a verdict," Hakuba pondered. "Though I would interject that such a proposal would not meet Kuroba-kun's approval."
Embarrassment wilted into unease. All thoughts of Kaito had vanished when she agreed to attend the wedding. The unanticipated idea that he would discover the ruse that Keiko had concocted clawed fretfully around her middle.
"Why would Kaito care? He's not here," Aoko said hesitantly, willing her tone to remain steady. She refused to encourage the spark of disappointment stirring at her own words. It would have been nice if Kaito had accompanied her in her father's place, but goodness, she knew he wasn't a wedding person.
"I see," Hakuba said, turning his head and tutted lightly. "Oh, how rude of me. Aoko-san, it appears I neglected to introduce my parents."
Aoko blanched to resemble milk at discovering that Superintendent General Hakuba and his British wife had been seated beside them all this time. That implied that they most likely heard the entire conversation. The amused looks on their faces confirmed her mortified suspicions. Caught between praying for the ceremony to begin and bashfully greeting Hakuba senior and his wife, Aoko wondered if an ounce of sanity and peace would reveal itself anytime soon.
~M.K~
The wedding reception was located in a private venue beside a koi pond under cherry blossom trees. It was a beautiful display of evenly spaced tables, each covered in a soft, white tablecloth. It should have been a crime to eat off the gleaming, golden-rimmed dinnerware. Aoko found herself ushered it a slightly awkward seating arrangement with Hakuba the younger and his parents for the meal courses. Once her humiliation had faded, she was pleasantly surprised to discover that she enjoyed the conversation engaged between her and Mrs. Hakuba, whose Japanese was impeccable and had the pose of a noblewoman. They both enjoyed cooking and culinary tourism, a topic the two ladies had explored to the point of almost ignoring the Hakuba men.
Time passed and Aoko had given into the pleasure of the desserts when she was finally confronted by a nervous Keiko just as she eagerly skirted around a group of gossiping women. From her apprehensive expression, it was clear she had been dreading this moment.
"I am so sorry, Aoko," she said, pink with shame. "This was supposed to be fun and I completely spaced."
"Keiko, it's okay," Aoko said reassuringly. "Actually, it's not as bad as it could have been. Hakuba-kun and his parents have been very light about everything. Don't worry so much!"
Keiko's eyebrows shot up. "How much cake did you eat?"
Aoko blushed. "That's beside the point..."
"I promise I won't do something so foolish again," Keiko continued, a glimmer of amusement returning to her eyes. "But I do wish someone had intervened for me. She's already introduced me to four different boys, all sons of company CEOs."
Aoko gaped. "No way!"
Keiko nodded grimly. "It's so awkward. More awkward than Sakurai-sensei keeping an eye on me every time I go on the dancefloor."
An electric thrill warmed Aoko's spine at the mention of the she-demon. Without thinking, her keen eyes browsed over the faces of the chattering crowd, eventually singling out their dance instructor engaged in a discussion with a small group near the koi pond. She quickly sank lower in her seat.
"I forgot she was here," she all but whispered, panicked.
Hakuba leaned forward. "Is something wrong?"
Keiko was the diligent one in explaining their dilemma to the detective who thankfully appeared unfazed by their discomfort about Sakurai-sensei's presence. Instead, it simply heightened his intrigue.
"If that's the case, why not display the fruit of your labor?" he suggested. "Entertaining fear won't alleviate your nerves. It is better to enjoy yourself, is it not?"
"I suppose," Keiko said slowly. "Aoko's actually better than me now. She put in a lot of work. Even sensei was impressed she did so well."
Aoko chuckled nervously and fixed her eyes on the crumbs littering her dessert plate. Her thought wandered to the dance lessons she had shared with Kaito instead of her classes at Sakurai's studio. There was only one reason her progress developed as it had, and it had very little to do with her paid instructor. The memories of Kaito's warm, gentle hands on her waist or their familiar warmth in guiding her movements distracted her from the sudden appearance of a small old woman that had her friend fidgeting in her seat.
"Obaa-chan!" Keiko exclaimed, snapping Aoko back to a Kaito-less reality. She glanced at 'The Grandmother' that had brought down a tsunami of discomfiture to the party.
She certainly didn't resemble a horror story. In fact, she looked like every sweet old lady Aoko had ever encountered, clutching a cane for balance and clad in a pretty purple kimono.
"Keiko-chan, this must be your friend," the grandmother said, eying Aoko closely. The scrutiny itched at Aoko's compulsion to impossibly neaten her naturally messy hair. To avoid further awkwardness, however, she stood and bowed politely to the Momoi matriarch.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Nakamori Aoko," she greeted.
"Momoi Natsuki," Keiko's grandmother replied. "What a pretty girl you are. It's no wonder you're engaged."
Aoko almost had a heart attack.
"E-En-g-gaged?" she stuttered out. "Erm, well—!"
"Obaa-chan!" Keiko protested, clearly flustered by the odd turn of events. "I told you, she's not getting married! How do you always reach that conclusion?"
But the deed was done, regardless of Keiko's attempt to diffuse the newly ignited mortification. Aoko's startled gaze trailed to the steadily blushing detective seated beside his chortling parents. As if sensing her desire to solve the situation before it blew out of proportion, Hakuba appeared at her side and bowed to Natsuki Momoi in greeting.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Momoi-san," he said courteously, a warm smile gracing his handsome features. "I am Hakuba Saguru. I hope it's not imprudent to request a moment with Aoko-san. I promised her a dance."
If there was anything that could be appreciated at that moment, it was Hakuba's charm and quick thinking. Mrs. Momoi the elder graciously allowed the two to depart to the dance floor, though Aoko regretted leaving Keiko behind to endure what appeared to be an exasperating conversation between grandmother and granddaughter.
Her appreciation of being led to the dance floor considerably increased.
"She is certainly a handful," Hakuba relayed to Aoko. "I suppose we'll never be bored."
Aoko giggled. "I can't deny that. It's not the first time anyone's assumed I'm getting married."
Hakuba raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? That must be quite a tale." He observed the spreading shade of beetroot on her face. Their dancing was limited to casual swaying rather than elaborate movements. Aoko was grateful for the quiet change of pace.
"Well … it was before you enrolled at Ekoda," Aoko admitted reluctantly, her eyes focusing on the folded handkerchief beside in his lapel. "K—a boy in class was acting strangely and then had the nerve to act as though he couldn't remember what he said to me… Anyway, our class teased us all week, throwing up banners and celebrating our wedding. It doesn't matter, though. It was a long time ago."
In fact, it had become one of those times where Aoko and Kaito collectively agreed to tuck an uneasy situation away from prying eyes. That day, Aoko's world had been shifted off balance when Kaito randomly decided to act completely out of character and confess his love to her in front of their friends, only to behave as though the entire affair never happened. Occasionally, she had tried hinting at it, but the stubborn boy insisted he had no idea as to what she was alluding; she eventually gave up the conquest for a reasonable explanation.
Hakuba wasn't fooled. "This boy was Kuroba-kun, wasn't it?" he inquired, mildly disapproving of the man he believed to be Kaitou Kid and the possibility of his romance with Inspector Nakamori's daughter. "It's astounding that he would be that unappreciative of you, Aoko-san. Surely, you deserve someone more conscious of your feelings."
Aoko's brain struggled to calculate the possibility of her spontaneously combusting on the dance floor.
"That's not it!" she protested, startling Hakuba and several nearby couples. "Kaito... he can be a real pain. He's always teasing me and doing his own thing, but he's got a good heart! He's been like that since his father died. He's not the kind of guy to get emotional or sentimental in front of other people. But that doesn't mean he doesn't care."
Disputably at her scarlet-faced limit, Aoko concentrated hard on sparing Hakuba of flattened feet. She was well aware that Kaito and Hakuba had a rivalry. How was she supposed to help Hakuba understand that Kaito did care, in his own bizarre way? She thought of their dance lessons or even just whipping up a movie marathon of her favorite films just to cheer her up whenever she was upset. Even when he left her with the impression of failure, such as being absent from her birthday party, he made up for his blunder by celebrating her across Beika.
That was more than what her father had done; he had forgotten entirely and hadn't been capable of looking her in the eye the next day.
For every ounce of exasperation that her friend unleashed, he had a special, well-established place in her heart. It was the source of her displeasure with Hakuba's evaluation, though she knew, rationally, he had issued a fair point of concern.
"Kaito loves making other people happy with his magic," Aoko continued quietly and recalled the moments when his magic shows washed away her feelings of sadness or anger. "I think he pushes himself because he wants to be as great as his father. He always has to be the best because he knows the extent of loss that comes with mistakes. He forgets normal things, like sleep and food. But he never forgets those precious moments."
Like a rose blooming to life in front of her eyes, dissolving disappointment into awe and joy with a few simple words, "I'm Kuroba Kaito! Nice to meet you!"
Her gazed scouted the room for a distraction. Just thinking about Kaito brought her close to squishing Hakuba's toes; it was unhelpful to remember Kaito teasing her with the same joke after her first dance lesson.
It served to distract her from the cool wonder of Hakuba's observant gaze. Perhaps he had taken their silence as the chance to peruse her embarrassing defense of her best friend, but she had no regrets in voicing her opinion. Kaito wasn't some villain seeking to cause her immeasurable woe, but he was definitely a trickster with a talent for endless, unpredictable chaos.
Across the room, she glimpsed Sakurai's scrutiny of her stiff movements and grew annoyed at her obvious distaste. Half-tempted to make a crude face at her, Aoko caught Keiko's all-clear signal from a now empty table and forfeited the idea. Keiko's grandmother was gone and Hakuba's parents had joined the dance floor attendees. It was the perfect opportunity to escape the conversation at hand.
She was about to ask Hakuba for a break when her voice caught in her throat. Her eyes had flowed over the crowd, unconcerned with the other guests, until one particular person stood out. Was that…? Behind her dance partner…? Sauntering their way…?
"Aoko-san, is something the matter?" Hakuba asked, noticing her shift in attention. But his voice was distant in her ears. Aoko's eyes were caught on the knavish smirk of the young man who reached out and tapped Hakuba's shoulder.
The newcomer cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I cut in, Hakuba?"
The swaying duo halted and swiveled around to meet the young man clad in a dark-blue casual suit, absent of a tie around his neck or accessory in his blazer pocket. His blazer remained unopened and his dark hair styled in its usual messy mane, he stood apart from Hakuba like a sore thumb. A very handsome, rugged, and smug-looking sore thumb.
"Kaito!" Aoko exclaimed in amazement. She could not believe it! "What are you doing here?"
"Hmm? You mean, your dad didn't say?" he asked, bemused. "He asked me to be your plus-one, but Kaa-san had something she wanted me to do. After the typical ruckus, anyway."
His obvious annoyance was a clear indicator that Chikage Kuroba had ensnared her unwilling son in another one of her tediously long, romanticized monologues enriched with adventures of his father, the late Toichi Kuroba. Aoko found herself giggling in Hakuba's puzzled grip.
"Going at her own pace, as usual," she wondered in amusement. "Sounds like someone else I know..."
While Kaito feigned ignorance of her allusions, his rosy pink ears betrayed him without question.
"Yeah, anyway, sorry I couldn't make it for the actual wedding," he continued. "Traffic east of here piled up because of the police sectioned off an entire street. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, Hakuba?"
Was it just Aoko's imagination or did Kaito's eyes harden on Hakuba's hand placement on her waist? Somewhere along her middle, a fresh array of jittery nerves burrowed around until she shivered.
"Given that my attention has been solely spent in Aoko-san's company, I'm afraid that this is the first I've heard of it," Hakuba confessed solemnly.
Kaito shrugged. "Probably why they had the Sleeping Kogoro there," he said dismissively. "They needed the best."
No one needed the tension of civil war erupting between the magician and the detective, especially on the joyous occasion of a wedding. Detaching herself from Hakuba's reach, Aoko firmly planted herself between the two glaring young men, distinctly aware that they both towered over her.
"Geez! Enough of that, Kaito!" she admonished. "Hakuba-kun, could you give us a minute?"
Hakuba bowed his head graciously. "Of course. Take your time."
He wove through the dancing crowd to their table and Aoko took a brief moment to flick Kaito on the forehead without his notice.
"Ow!" Kaito protested. "What was that for?"
"You didn't have to be rude," she scolded. "Honestly, I'll never understand why you two won't get along."
Kaito shrugged. "Hey, he's the one who started it."
Aoko glared. "Kaito…."
"Alright, alright! I'll behave!" He shot her one of his infamous, 'ladykiller' grins. "So, how's the dancing going? The she-devil condemned you yet?"
"Not to my face, she hasn't," she murmured. "Picky woman."
Aoko was tempted to punch his shoulder but refrained from causing a scene. She couldn't doubt that his presence had lifted her spirits, infuriating as he was, and she genuinely wondered how her father had wrangled this together? Perhaps he had conspired with Jii for more than she initially assumed. The thought made her blush.
Meaning her father would get an earful when she returned home.
Overhead, the speakers emitted another slow song, perfect for a waltz. Kaito seemed to consider it for a moment, and then held out his hand to her and asked, "Care to prove her wrong?"
Why did it suddenly seem that they had fallen under the spotlight for the whole world to witness? This was ridiculously cheesy, even for Kaito's favored flair. She had never been more aware of his presence as she had when she accepted his offered hand. He smoothly tugged her closer and clasped her hand over the slight curve of her waist. Had he dared to 'let' his hand wander, she would have smacked him hard enough that his ancestors would have cried, but thankfully, he had chosen to be tame. Practicing with him in the security and privacy of her own home was nothing compared to dancing with him amid a crowd. She was too nervous that she'd step on his feet.
"Geez, relax!" Kaito remarked. "I'm dancing with a ruler here!"
Aoko blushed. "Aoko's doing her best…."
Her voice caught in her throat when Kaito suddenly twirled her out and reeled her back, bringing them closer than before. Her heart stumbled at his nearness but Kaito lacked any similar bashfulness. He was a swan gliding across the floor, and she had only gone for the ride, her feet finally falling into the steps they had practiced. It was odd how right he had been.
So long as she had a partner who knew what he was doing, everything would be fine.
"You know … you actually look nice."
"Hey! I always look nice!"
Kaito chuckled cheekily, sending a comforting trill down Aoko's spine. Regardless of his efforts to don fancy clothes and perform cheesy antics, Kaito's ridiculous and endearing quirks had gone unchanged. It brought a warm smile to Aoko's lips as he twirled her out again, and she caught sight of Keiko grinning at her from her table, where Hakuba had immersed himself on his phone. Then the sight of them vanished as Kaito drew her back, his hand curling protectively around her waist. Aoko's heart leaped into her throat.
"Incoming!" he hissed at her.
"Huh?" Aoko blinked in confusion before someone coughed from beside them.
"Nakamori-san," said Sakurai, bring their dance to a standstill. A thrill of panic electrified her veins at the sight of her instructor's steely gaze, which immediately drifted to her partner. "Kuroba-san. How unexpected this is, meeting you again in such a place. You've grown."
Kaito shrugged, apparently unbothered, and Aoko found herself envious of his flippant demeanor; that was until she felt his hand tighten in hers as if he had just sought her comfort. "Well, I wasn't going to stay four feet forever…"
Sakurai didn't smile. Then again, Aoko couldn't recall ever seeing her instructor display any expression beyond judgment before. Even now, the frigidness of her presence was enough for the two friends to shiver in unison.
"I had wondered how your progress improved so quickly," she continued, her eyes focused on Kaito's well-practiced poker face. "I believe I've discerned the source…."
"Don't know what you mean," Kaito continued with a shameless grin. Was it just Aoko's imagination, or did he pull her closer again? "Aoko's leading, obviously."
Aoko was unsure whether she should laugh or not, but thankfully, Sakurai departed with little more than an unconvinced raise of her eyebrow. That did little to ease the tension that had quickly formed along Aoko's arms and shoulders. Once she was out of earshot, Kaito sighed with relief.
"Gah, she's scarier than Akako…" Aoko heard him breathe out.
A giggle escaped her lips. "Akako-chan's not scary," she asserted, even when Kaito issued a disbelieving scoff. "I'll admit, she can be a little intimidating sometimes, but she's nice!"
Kaito clicked his tongue as he whirled her through the moving maze of couples on the dancefloor. Lights glimmered from the corners of her eyes, but it was impossible to focus on anything but her partner leading her through what might have been a complete disaster had she been paired with anyone else. Her focus on her steps quickly vanished with the sensation of floating in his grasp. Her trust in him had been invoked, fully accepting that he would not make a fool of her in front of oblivious strangers. Heart hammering within a breathless haze, Aoko found herself giggling as the dance sped up with a change in music, and then Kaito had switched the dynamic entirely, twirling her out and around to the pleasant, lively Latin rhythm. He embellished his moves, attracting admiration and attention for the sake of showing off, and thought it was entirely ridiculous, she enjoyed it all the same!
All woes and worries melted, leaving two friends to appreciate each other's company without shame.
As their final song neared its end, Aoko missed the sudden shift in Kaito's posture, and without warning, she gasped as he unexpectedly twirled her out, then back into his embrace, ending their dance with a sudden dip, Aoko's body completely bent to his mercy. It was only Kaito's strength that prevented her from collapsing to the floor, cradling her as he dipped forward. He graced her with a cheeky wink, his eyes of sparkling sapphire glimmering down at her.
Intense heat flooded around her neck and chest, coloring her face as her arm grabbed tightly to his broad shoulder. Her heartbeat stuttered to a samba rhythm and she felt weightless and small, her hair falling so far back that it practically touched the floor.
"B-Bakaito!" she gasped, realizing that people were staring. "Are you crazy?"
Snickering, Kaito pulled her upright, holding her so closely that the gossip would last the entire night into the morning.
"Crazier and crazier," he said, openly laughing as she slapped his chest in a poorly concealed effort to disguise her embarrassment, both at the act and the fact that the sensation had been delightful.
"Mou! What's with you, trying to give me a heart attack…!"
"Ke-ke-ke-ke!"
~M.K~
Lost in each other's presence, neither took notice of the two friends seated at the table, looking on with interest. Hakuba sipped at his drink, observing as Kaito danced around Aoko's waving hands, avoiding a well-earned slap to the face. Keiko beamed down at her phone, admiring the photo she had captured of Kaito's little stunt with her friend. Not only had the lighting been perfect, but it also showcased just how happy the two of them were to have fun together.
"Here comes trouble," Hakuba remarked plaintively but Keiko shook her head.
"So cute!" she said with a mischievous smirk. "I'm officially saving this for THEIR wedding!"
~M.K~
FURTHER NOTES:
Greetings, everyone. I apologize for the excruciatingly long hiatus, but writer's block is a frustrating business. Most of this chapter was finished for over a year but there was never the right way to finish it. We've met out half-way mark now at 15 chapters. I have no idea what Hakuba's parents are like, but I would like to think they are sociable. Also, my knowledge of dancing is limited to my childhood devotion to Dancing with the Stars and Shall We Dance, so I'm sorry for the lack of details. I'm terrible at describing movements.
The love confession story is referenced to "Magic Kaito Volume 1, Chapter 3, The Clockwork Heart". A robot counterpart of Kaito kidnapped him and tried to take his place as both Kaito Kuroba and Kaito Kid. He was the one who confessed to Aoko.
Thanks are in order for Nagy Bari, Leila, Vaani, and Guest for reviewing the previous chapter!
Reviews and criticism are welcome.
—MELPOMENE-THE-TRAGIC-PARODY, signing out.