Well, it's been a while. I'm really sorry I take so long to update.
But hey, I graduated from university! Got my degree in Immunology and now, I'm heading off to grad school come September! I'm so nervous, haha.
Things in this story are picking up. Just about three more chapters until we're done with the first part~! After that, chapters will hopefully come more often, because part two is my favorite to write.
I'll probably come back later to fix type-os and grammar mistakes, but I wanted to get this to you guys ASAP!
Chapter 7: Alone in a Daydream
KID led him to a downtown karaoke bar, of all places, called the Mocking Parrot. Arguably the worst place in the city to bring him, as any one of his friends and family could attest. At least no one would expect to see him there, in the dark, pulsating room filled with faceless people and too much noise. The thief swept inside with a smile, flashing a membership card Shinichi didn't recognize at the sleepy-eyed hostess. She didn't protest as KID made a beeline for stairs on the side, leading up to an even darker hallway only illuminated by harsh blue LEDs. They passed room after room, each labeled with their relevant levels of vacancy, until they reached the end of the hall, where KID inserted his card into the final door's lock. The door unlocked with a flash of green, and KID held it open with a smarmy smile.
"After you, stringer."
Shinichi tried to touch as little as possible as they entered the booth, avoiding the edges of the table and the microphones to settle on the edge of the waxy couch. In the dim light, KID's disguise was even more convincing, and Shinichi had to take a moment to remind himself why he was there, alone and unprepared, with a criminal wanted in most nations.
KID was much more relaxed, reclining across from Shinichi with a fathomless grin. The dark and seedy atmosphere suited him; he wasn't just confident, he was in his element.
There was no doubt KID has been to the Mocking Parrot many times before, probably for information exchanges or fencing goods. Even knowing that, Shinichi figured there was little he could do with that information. KID wouldn't have led Shinichi there if he thought for even a moment that it could be traced back to him. Considering KID's apparently immense abilities with technomancy, Shinichi could hazard a guess why.
But that didn't matter, because he wasn't here for KID. His only interest was retrieving the files.
"What now?" Shinichi asked as KID plucked the tablet off the table in-between them. It should have been a simple song-selection device, but Shinichi figured in the thief's hands it could do a great deal more.
"Hold on." KID said, his focused face illuminated by the screen, "I wanna put some music on."
Holding back a groan of frustration, Shinichi leaned back in his seat and let the atmosphere of the room wash over him. He could feel the excitement and nervousness of past patrons, as well as some much more questionable emotions. There was a stain on the carpet, and just looking at it triggered a recollection, not his own, of horrible nausea and discomfort.
Disgusting. Shinichi shifted his focus elsewhere, as music began to fill the room. It was a harsh mix of rock and EDM, combined with the deep tones of a man's voice. It was in English, he recognized, some foreign band with too much creativity than they knew what to do with, and it grated on his nerves, the steep beats and fierce tempo perfectly emulating the burn of anxiety in his gut. It was probably purposeful, on KID's part.
Subtly, he checked his phone, but it was off, sitting dead in his hand with a black screen. Across from him, KID shrugged and pressed a finger against the tablet. Immediately, the screens surrounding them shifted from lyrics to black text-boxes filled with little green characters and numbers.
"What is all this?" Shinichi asked, skimming the information laid out all around him. There was a date and four locations mentioned frequently, and as Shinichi read on, he grew more unnerved. "This is..." His voice trailed off as he read more and more, and he felt a chill spreading across his skin completely unrelated to the room's enthusiastic air-conditioning. Three robberies were laid out before his eyes: not heists, but carefully planned operations for a large team of highly trained individuals. And the targets were all cutting edge research labs and technological powerhouses.
"Yup." The thief chirped, his mouth curled into something—Shinichi hesitated to still call it a smile—dark and self-satisfied. The sight of it and the idea that was forming in his head incited a pulse of fury inside him.
"You're working with the Red Siamese Cats after all." The words came out plainer, calmer, than they might have if he was less accustomed to hiding his anger. KID taking the files had been one thing: frustrating, but Shinichi could admit to himself it was as much his own fault for letting his guard down. But this was another matter entirely.
"It's not a mutual thing." KID waved a hand, and it was suddenly gloved. The blue-collar worker was gone, replaced by the dashing young man in a pressed white suit. The monocle gleamed in the lights of the screens, reflecting back tiny lime letters. "It's just a matter of convenience."
Shinichi didn't think they would associate with the infamous Phantom Thief 1412 willingly. He could only assume that meant the Cats didn't know they had a collaborator, or that one of their number had been replaced and weren't who they said they were. Either way, the question was why.
"I didn't agree to help terrorists."
"You're surprisingly naïve." KID laughed, and Shinichi bristled, offended. "If you think I'm giving you a choice at this point, you're not nearly as clever as people give you credit for." Shinichi bit his tongue on a nasty response, plans for escape already forming in his head. If KID thought he was going to go along passively, he was the one that was naïve. Measuring his silence, KID raised his hands and continued. "Let's put it this way: either you come along willingly and get this," KID snapped his fingers, the sound not at all dulled by his gloves, and the stolen flash drive was suddenly spinning on every screen. "Or you can make me force you and you get nothing. This plan doesn't exactly necessitate a willing participant." Shinichi stared at the thief, fully away that his displeasure was written across his face. KID did not quail. "Don't give me that look. There will be, like, zero terrorism, I promise." Shinichi didn't trust that for a moment, but a blossoming strategy was quickly outpacing his frustration. What he needed was to reclaim some control over the situation, and if he did so, he could ensure nothing of the sort occurred. Oblivious, KID was still talking. "I don't want to make you do anything, stringer. But I will if I have to."
Shinichi took another look at the plans laid before him, including data and stats on some very familiar masked faces. In particular, a grinning white opera mask caught his eye, and his stomach twisted. The drive wasn't the only thing stolen from him recently. Since there was no getting out, he may as well use the situation to his advantage.
Having made his decision, he pointed to the screens. "It's not going to work."
"What?"
"This plan of yours. It's not going to work." KID was caught off-guard. Shinichi tapped on the white mask they both loathed. "This isn't enough to beat the Night Baron." The thief stared at him with curious eyes and a frown forming on his lips. Clearly, KID wasn't used to people finding flaws in his plans. But what was laid before Shinichi wasn't sufficient to guarantee success, and something told Shinichi that anything less than victory would mean he didn't get his evidence back.
KID was outright scowling now, and the expression was surprisingly childish. "Well then," he muttered sulkily, with a note of challenge in his voice, "what do you recommend?"
Making mistakes was easy. They happened fast, thoughtlessly, and the window of opportunity for correcting them closed in an instant. People could work every day for their whole lives to make something great, and a single moment's carelessness could reduce it all to nothing.
Thinking about mistakes was hard. Saguru had always struggled with being wrong, because he had his pride, which made personal failures difficult to swallow.
His mentor had never allowed him to do anything but. Kudo Yuusaku expected him to confront his mistakes head on, and it was a task that required immense mental fortitude. It was exhausting, and somehow, it never got easier, no matter how many times he failed.
That was what post-mission debriefs were for, but the previous night, the Baron sent them all home with barely a word. Saguru had stewed over everything that occurred over the course of the heist with near obsessive attention, trying to ignore the near nauseating swell of guilt, misery, and anxiety swirling in his gut.
And then he returned to the manor after school, his heart shamefully in his throat and his limbs heavy as lead. He let himself in and found the manor empty except for a single lonely heartbeat.
Shinichi must have been out. No surprise there.
He found his mentor in the study, surrounded by computer screens and reports. One was showing the ISHA spokesperson chattering away to an enraptured audience, no doubt assuring the populace that as always, the Overseers had everything under control.
Sometimes Saguru wondered how much he really wanted that to be true.
Yuusaku looked up at him when he entered, unsurprised. Saguru met his cold blue eyes and said as clearly as he could, "KID escaped again."
"Yes," Yuusaku confirmed with a sigh. He looked tired, solemnity deepening the lines in his face. Moments like this, Saguru couldn't help but mourn the fading of his mentor's youth. Once upon a time, Kudo Yuusaku had been a fresh-faced hero with a plan for a better, more promising world. But years had become decades and the world only seemed to descend further into discord, even on the genetic level. How much longer would the Night Baron be able to go on? Saguru feared the answer, some days. As if thinking the same thing, Yuusaku leaned back in his chair with another weary sigh. "What occurred last night was not your fault or your responsibility, Saguru-kun." Saguru bit his lip at that. He may not have been in charge of the operation, but he hadn't exactly done well either. "I am just grateful no one was seriously injured."
"Sir?" Saguru pinched his eyebrows together, his sense of unease growing. It was not like his mentor to settle for so little.
But Yuusaku's face was heavy with an old guilt. "I assumed command and failed to follow through." Saguru bit the inside of his lip. He didn't want to hear this, and he didn't know how to respond to it. "I was responsible for the mission's failure."
Shamefully, Saguru was glad to be relieved of the responsibility. He forced himself to stand tall and face Yuusaku, as Yuusaku always did to him. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what happened? Where were you?"
"There was unexpected interference." Yuusaku's voice carried a familiar, wretched gravity. "Shinichi was there."
"What?" Saguru's whole body stiffened, like a bristling cat. Even his hair seemed to stand on end. Shinichi wasn't supposed to be there. Shinichi wasn't supposed to be anywhere near Kaitou KID, or an active conflict.
"In order to remove him from the premises as quickly as possible, I placed a compulsion on him. He...resisted. I was forced to push harder than I intended to."
All words Saguru had to say evaporated on his tongue. He knew, of course, what his mentor's abilities were capable of, and how Yuusaku tended to use them. Saguru had no choice but to make his peace with the indignity and invasive nature of mind control years before; a necessary evil on the path to a world where such things were no longer necessary.
He knew, even better, how and why Yuusaku felt compelled to leash his own son's mind, and how each time seemed to chip away at Yuusaku's very soul.
It was past the time for judgement, for shame. All that was left for them was the cold calculation of necessity. So Saguru swallowed his horror and steeled himself. "Does he suspect anything?"
"Most certainly. He may even have our entire encounter on tape."
Saguru nearly jolted again, shocked. It wasn't like Yuusaku to be so careless, to make such a dangerous mistake. It reflected just how shaken Yuusaku must have been at the time, and Saguru could understand why. Seeing his son once again at the site of a heist, while the previous disaster still weighed so heavily on Yuusaku's shoulders, must have put him in a state of near panic.
Not for the first time, Saguru wondered if Yuusaku had PTSD, and if it haunted him every time he saw his son. But it was not his place. So, when all other words failed him, he was left with nothing but insufficient words: "That's bad."
"What's worse is that KID is still on the loose, and we've revealed his identity to Aoko-kun." Yuusaku reached up and adjusted his glasses wearily. "I do not think him and Shinichi being in the same place last night was a coincidence. One way or another, he is certain to follow through on his threat."
That was worse. "Will Shinichi-kun believe him?"
Yuusaku gave Saguru a dry look. "It doesn't matter, does it? It will be dangerous either way."
Saguru straightened and tried his best to look competent. He could only hope his voice carried enough confidence to be reassuring. "We can apprehend KID before he has the opportunity to, if you join us, sir." The statement was firmer than his own belief in it. What was becoming abundantly clear was that KID wasn't to be underestimated. While the Overseers often treated him as a child's play, KID was proving to be more adaptive, ingenious, and formidable than they gave him credit for. In truth, Saguru was beginning to suspect the true reason that so many Overseer agents did not step forward to face KID was not lack of urgency, but the uncertainty of victory against him. Especially considering the high media-profile he maintained. If a single professional hero failed to apprehend him, it would international news.
But the Night Baron wasn't just any pro hero. He was the best, the bastion of justice. He had beat the original and that counted for something, no matter how tragically the battle had ended. Unless, the current KID possessed abilities and resources the original did not. They had no evidence to the contrary.
"I will not. Last night certainly proved that I-" Yuusaku paused for a moment, his eyes dark and incomprehensible, "am emotionally compromised."
Saguru wilted a little, then forced his shoulders back up. "You and Aoko-kun both."
Yuusaku pinched his lips together. "Not taking the news well, is she?"
"Not at all." Aoko had been a sorry sight last he'd seen her, with pallid skin and bags under her eyes. She was not handling Kuroba's persisting presence in their classes well or gracefully, and even their other classmates were starting to take notice. Kuroba's ongoing insistence on pretending nothing had changed was not making it easier for her.
"Can hardly blame the poor girl. It may be a good idea to call my wife." Yuusaku said, reaching for his phone. Saguru blinked, caught by surprise. While her presence was hardly a solution, but it would ease tensions temporarily. But...
"Isn't Yukiko-san acting as the media liaison in America right now?" Yukiko had returned with them to Japan after the police conference but was called back to the ISHA headquarters almost immediately afterwards, after a meta-human incident in the USA. She hadn't even gotten a chance to see her son.
"She'll be finished there by this Saturday." Yuusaku said, smiling at his phone. On the screen, Yukiko's profile picture smiled back. "Surely, we can make it through a week."
Surely. What was the worst that could happen? Murphy's Law had to have mercy on them sometime. In the meantime, Saguru could do whatever he could to make sure the situation didn't deteriorate.
A sharp sound cut through the air, and a communication channel opened on one of the screens. In bright green letters it identified the caller: the Tokyo MPD Liason. Yuusaku's eyes watched it warily, but he fixed on a casual smile and accepted the call.
"Good evening, Officer Date."
"Is that what we're calling it now?" A gruff voice replied, and while it was only a voice call and there was no chance of being seen, Saguru stood taller. Instinct, mostly: that, and the memory of more than a couple past interactions with the rough-and-tumble police officer. "I ain't got much time, so I'm gonna make this quick." Saguru and Yuusaku exchanged sharp-eyed glances. Date kept most of his reports short, but his voice carried an unusual note of urgency. "Some evidence disappeared from our locker. We don't know when, or how, but it was from Kudo Shinichi's little encounter with them." Saguru sucked in a breath through his teeth. Maybe Murphy's Law wasn't done with them yet. Did they somehow have someone on the inside of the Tokyo police after all? His mentor had always suggested so, but Saguru had never quite believed that one of his father's officers could be a turn-coat. Or rather, never wanted to believe it. Maybe he and Aoko had more in common than he wanted to admit. "I did as you said and convinced the department that the investigation should be left to you guys, but missing evidence isn't something they're gonna ignore too easily." Missing kids, missing evidence. It was disheartening to hear which one rose more eyebrows in the police station.
"Thank you, Date. You're right. If I assigned a public ISHA operative to the station and the case, would that ease tensions?"An operative had already been selected, based on her impressive credentials and her long-standing connections to the MPD's First Division, but she was not scheduled to arrive for another three weeks. They would have to arrange for her to arrive sooner. Saguru stepped over to one of the monitors and brought up her schedule, noting that she was currently neck-deep in Korean terrorist cell. Once that was resolved, she and her partner were expected to guard the international peace talks.
He would have to find someone to replace her on the security detail, preferably someone from the Japanese Branch, so the whole thing could be written off as an exchange of personnel.
"Yeah, sure." Date grumbled over the line, and Yuusaku pointed to a name in the Japanese register. Rebound. Saguru scowled back at him. "But the Kudo kid—"
"Is not a priority or a problem." Yuusaku lied so smoothly, not so much as a hitch in his breath or a stutter in his heart. Not even Saguru would have been able to tell the difference. He frowned at the name on the screen and brought up Rebound's profile. It was a long list of accomplishments and high recommendations boasting his exemplary skills and immense strengths. Not to mention his rock-hard moral center and dedication to the work. At just eighteen: an Overseer. A full-fledged Overseer.
Saguru didn't like him. But he forced those feelings aside and focused on the matter at hand, putting together all the necessary paperwork.
Yuusaku was still reassuring Date of his son's supposed unimportance in the grand scheme of the universe. "Kudo Shinichi will move on to the next story."
Date snorted. Saguru wanted to, too. "You don't really believe that. That punk's too deep, Baron."
Yuusaku was still smiling cheerfully, but his eyes were very cold. Saguru carefully kept his gaze on the request he was filing with the ISHA Japan management office, and tried to ignore how cold the room suddenly felt. "Thank you for your hard work, Officer Date. Your advice is indispensable as always."
Date took a long, troubled breath. He sounded as stressed as Saguru felt. "Just—just find a way to fix this. Find those kids."
"Of course." Yuusaku agreed and ended the call. Saguru tried to remember what he was supposed to be typing, desperately trying to keep his mind blank. To not think too loudly about how he couldn't tell if the last words were a lie or not. He finished the request for Rebound's assistance with a few clicks and forcibly turned his mind to more productive matters. The sound of the keyboard was loud in the suddenly quiet room.
Such as, the current threat to their security: Kaitou KID. It was difficult to find his voice, but he eventually ended the fresh silence. "I will monitor Kuroba Kaito for now." There had to be evidence, somewhere. A scent, a stutter, a trail. Saguru just had to find it.
Yuusaku gave him a long, contemplative look. "Good luck." The statement sounded so doubtful.
And doubtful was right: keeping track of Kuroba proved fruitless; by all appearances, he led a normal high school life that not even Saguru's heightened senses could find fault in. Kuroba went to class like any other student, wandered around town after school completing miscellaneous tasks and goofing off, then returned home in the evening to seemingly do his homework, practice magic tricks, and sleep. Rinse, repeat.
In all likelihood, the Kuroba he was following was probably not Kuroba at all, most of the time. But there was no telling a supposed imposter from the original: not even by scent, because Kuroba's scent varied by the day, depending on whatever particular trick he had hidden on his person and what he'd been experimenting with.
The facade was flawless, so good Saguru almost began to doubt what he knew as absolute truth.
But if evidence was easy to come by, KID would be behind bars already.
A whole week passed, and Saguru learnt nothing.
In the meantime, Ran was supposed to be keeping an eye on Shinichi. The goal was to keep KID away from Shinichi at all costs, but Shinichi spent so much time going to different locations in the city and speaking with so many different people, especially considering all the incidents he just happened to walk right into. Any one of the people around him could be KID at any given time, which made the passive observation practically useless. The second problem was that they hadn't even told Ran about the confrontation between the Baron and KID. Unable to explain the truth of the situation, Saguru could only instruct Ran to monitor Shinichi's behavior for anything unusual, and hope.
It was , admittedly, not their best plan.
Even so, when Thursday night finally rolled around, and she met him in the headquarters for debrief and training, Saguru was hoping to hear no news.
Instead, as they sparred and traded blows, Ran stared him right in the eyes and bit her lip, worry clear across her expression.
"I'm worried about Shinichi." Ran admitted, catching his fist with barely any effort. The force of his blow barely even pushed her hand back, and that was only because she let it. "He's been acting weird all week."
"How so?" Saguru asked cautiously, pulling from her grip as the spar came to a standstill. It was not often Shinichi acted out of character, but it was also very difficult to tell what he was thinking at times. It had been easier when they were younger, when Shinichi was cockier and more expressive: all arrogant smiles and bravado. But as they got older, and the world seemed harsher by the day, Shinichi withdrew inside himself.
"He's skipping practice even more than usual, even though the tournament's so close, and running off right after class. I think something's worrying him." Like gaps in his memory after an encounter with the Night Baron, or possible interference by the Kaitou KID? Both were concerning, but Saguru carefully kept his mouth shut. Ran didn't seem to notice, continuing with a furrowed brow. "Hakuba-kun, do you think it's possible he's still investigating?"
"I hope not, but knowing him…" Truthfully, Saguru found it highly unlikely that Shinichi wasn't still investigating. Shinichi wasn't exactly the type to let things lie. "Have you tried talking to him?" Not even Ran could dissuade Shinichi from something he'd set his mind on, but she fared better than most.
Ran shook her head, a miserable frown twisting her face. "I think he's avoiding me. I've been trying to follow him around, like you asked, but he tries to get out of it every chance he gets." That was discouraging to hear, and Saguru winced. Back when they first formed the Irregulars, just the two of them and Hattori, none of them had imagined the toll it would take on their personal lives. But as time went on, the costs of their lifestyle mounted, and the very people they were trying to protect got hurt.
At least Hattori's relationship with Kazuha had been saved by Kazuha's own developing abilities and his inability to keep a secret. They had brought Kazuha into the fold, but the same couldn't be done for Shinichi. It would be too dangerous for everyone involved.
Maybe Saguru should put Hattori on the surveillance instead. Hattori was clever and overbearing, a combination only useful in situations like this, but Hattori's relations with Shinichi seemed to be suffering too.
And Saguru wasn't entirely sure Hattori would agree to spy on Shinichi for them again. And Saguru himself certainly couldn't do it, not with…well, everything.
Reading his expression, Ran frowned. Her eyes were too wet, and she seemed to be struggling to find words. "How do you handle it?" She asked, finally, gaze on the mat under their feet. "He's been avoiding you for ages now."
Jesus. This wasn't a conversation Saguru wanted to be having. But, apparently, it was happening anyway. His stomach twisted unpleasantly. "It was hard, at first. Really hard." He didn't elaborate. The memory of throwing out his Teitan High application came back again, choking him like it always did. It was a stupid thing to still be upset over, because it had led him to Aoko, and to KID's true identity. But still it burned. That hadn't even been the start. It was just another stupid little thing in a long line, all starting from that one awful day.
Just more things he didn't want to talk about. "You have to realize that to him, we're the ones that started it. We're the ones avoiding him." That was right; Saguru couldn't make this all about his feelings, or even just about Ran's. Shinichi's mattered too. And Shinichi was probably hurting the most.
Ran deflated further, curling into herself. "I know we can't tell him. I know that. But it's just so hard." She lowered her head, and Saguru could see the gleam of tears on her cheeks.
He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I know."
"I miss him."
"I know. I do too."
Saguru wondered how long they could keep this up.
Shinichi wondered, briefly, what the hell he was doing. The clothes had fit after all, so he changed back out them and carefully put them back on the hangar, where they would hopefully remain until it was time to set the plan in motion. Had KID got them specifically tailored to his measurements somehow, or were the two of them actually similar in body-type?
In their brief, sudden meetings, he had always assumed KID was taller than him. He couldn't remember why or when he came to that conclusion.
Or rather, he felt like that conclusion was based on a faulty premise. Because sometimes he wondered if their supposed first meeting, as Kaitou KID and intrepid reporter Kudo Shinichi, was really their first meeting at all.
He gently grabbed the sleeve of the jacket and ran his fingers over it, searching. The only memories that arose were his own, faded over time and almost surreal in nature. But when he closed his eyes, he could envision it perfectly.
The moon shone through the office window, illuminating the sharp edges of his father's desk with pale light. He gripped the edges with skinny, short fingers and struggled to see over, wobbling on his toes. The surface was littered with papers and books and a desktop computer, but in the dim light, Shinichi couldn't read any of them. Frustrated, he turned to the shelves that lined the room, searching for something he could read.
The darkness of the study felt off. Uncomfortable, somehow. Shinichi's heart was beating fast, fluttering in his chest nervously, and he once again searched the shadowy crevices of the room. He looked for a camera, or a blinking light, anything that would explain the crawling of his skin. But there was nothing.
The room seemed to get darker.
No, the room was getting darker.
Shinichi swung around, staring at the window with wide eyes. A man was standing before it, blocking the light with his dark silhouette. Shinichi tensed, but the figure remained still, leaning against the suddenly open window pane with his hands in his pockets.
"Are you alone? Where's that friend of yours?" A familiar voice spoke, smooth, elegant, and deep. Shinichi had only heard it a handful of times before, in moments like this, but it was distinct. He didn't answer, glad that Ran had not come over for dinner, but the figure continued, unbothered. "Are you bored again."
It was definitely the same man that had visited a couple of weeks before, sneaking into his father's library so late. The same man from the school, that time with Ran. Shinichi bristled, mind racing. In the case of a home invasion, he was supposed to — "I'll call the police!"
The figure tilted his head, or at least, that was what it looked like he was doing. "Why?"
"You —you're not supposed to be in here! It's breaking and entering!"
"How would you know? You're not supposed to be in here either, are you?" Shinichi winced at that. The logic was flawed, but the argument was solid. "Snooping in your dad's files again?" Shinichi ducked his head and scowled at the ground, knowing he was about to be admonished. But instead, the stranger just laughed. He was slouching against the bookshelf, and it looked like he was smiling. "Relax, I won't tell if you don't." Peeking up, Shinichi carefully crept closer. Not once in their many encounters did the man make any move to harm him, so it felt safe to approach as long as he maintained due caution. "The more interesting stuff is downstairs, anyway." What did that mean? Shinichi bit the inside of his cheek mutinously, and the stranger motioned him closer, to the other side of the desk, where there was a chair he could use to climb up. "Come on, don't be shy. You went to all the trouble to get in here, right?"
Shinichi didn't know how he knew that he had to get through the office's lock. "I shouldn't." The rebellious frustration that had driven him in here was fading, and guilt was settling in. What would his father think if he found Shinichi in here, with some trespasser?
"Why not?" The man sounded almost disappointed.
There was a childish urge to stomp his feet. Shinichi ignored it. If he wanted adults to take him seriously, he couldn't sulk. And his father always made thatface when he was sulky, looking like Shinichi was something worrisome and pathetic but also kind of funny. "Dad says I can't be a detective."
"Does he now?" The stranger sounded like Shinichi felt, annoyed and kind of baffled. Then, the man's voice perked up. "Well, he also told you to never come in here, right? But here you are." He made it sound like that fixed everything.
Shinichi glared at him the best he could in the darkness. "Correction: Dad will never let me be a detective." That was the real problem, and the real reason Shinichi was here in his father's office in the dark. "Even if I try, I'll never be able to live up to him either."
The man was quiet for a moment. In the meantime, Shinichi tried to discern his height and weight. It was too dark to guess with any sort accuracy, but he felt like the man was about the same height as his father. "Well, why do you want to be a detective anyway? Detective work is so uncouth."
That was rude. Detectives were awesome.
"Everybody is always lying. Dad, and Mom, and Kogoro-ojisan, and Eri-obasan, and my teachers. It's awful." Familiar frustration brewed at the mere thought of how his brain itched when he listened to them all, when he touched the same objects they did. When he got glimpses of feelings and thoughts and memories he didn't understand. "I want to reveal the truth." It sounded childish out loud.
The man-made a considering sound, seeming to think it over. Shinichi watched him curiously, and the longer the pause went on, the more anxious for a response he felt. Finally, the man put up his hands with a sigh. "Nope, I don't get it!"
"Oh, come on!"
Just as Shinichi was considering storming off and leaving the stranger to whatever business he had in the office, a gloved hand caught his collar. The floor disappeared from under his feet as he was heaved up and plopped down on the office chair, with all of his father's files and notes spread out before him. "Those things aren't mutually exclusive." The man said, "that's the problem with deductive thinking, extrapolating one thing from another." The man turned away then, back to the window he had entered through. It was locked and closed again. He raised a hand to the glass and pressed against it. It held firm under his fingers. "Your thinking can get be too constrained. There are plenty of investigators in this world that don't have the title of Detective." Shinichi watched him curiously as the man glanced over his shoulder. The moonlight caught his jaw and illuminated a wide, beautiful smile. "Quit thinking like a sheep and start thinking like a fox. If you want something on the other side of an impassable door," he knocked on the glass, and suddenly, the window swung open, "all you have to do is find a way around."
The man stepped up on the still and stood there, his silhouette outlined in soft white light. "And come investigate one of my shows sometime, okay?"
"What are you thinking about?" A similar voice called: similar, but more immature. More fae, less stable. Like a tooth someone had knocked loose, once stable but now sore and wobbly and going to fall right out.
Shinichi stared at the white cloth in his hands, then looked up at the disguised man before him. KID stared back inquisitively with blue eyes.
There was no knowing if the height and weight was the same. No knowing if he remembered the voice accurately. So, Shinichi had always ignored the similarities and let the subject lie. It didn't feel like something that could be easily broached.
It had never really mattered to him if the stranger was KID or not. He preferred to keep them separate in his mind, to let the man that inspired his career remain an innocent, benign shadow. Not a criminal, not someone Shinichi felt kinship with. Just a faceless dream that came at just the right time.
But now, it felt important. Because whether this was once the man from then or not, this thief was not the same. Whether the mantle had shifted hands or the differences were the simple result of the unfaltering progression of time, something fundamental had changed.
He could just ask, but for some reason he held his tongue. They were running out of time as the days and hours passed, their collaborative scheme lurching forward towards its inevitable climax.
Are you the same man? Shinichi wanted to ask, but he was scared of the answer. Do I even want you to be?
Instead, he released the sleeve and let it fall back into place, gravity righting the wrongs. "It's nothing. Let's start the rehearsal."
"This is Kudo Shinichi, freelance reporter. If this is a business call, leave a message with your name, email, and pitch. If this is a personal call, sorry I missed it. Text me and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
Voicemail, again. It wasn't unusual for Shinichi to not be answering his phone, but this was the seventh time. Usually, he would have at least called her back to tell her to quit harassing him by now.
Ran pursed her lips and closed the phone app, worried. Had he gotten in trouble again, or was he just snooping around somewhere and turned his phone to silent? Or did he just not want to talk to her so badly that he wasn't even willing to tell her to knock it off?
Shinichi had been acting oddly all week, more so than usual. He was always intense and driven, had been so since the day they met, but for the past few days he had been growing increasingly tense. He had even snapped at Sonoko earlier that day, which hadn't happened since they graduated middle school. His growing distemper had been bothering Ran for days, but there was always something else that needed her attention after school. In school. At night. In the morning. Always.
After all, of the Irregulars, Angel was by far the most active. People all over the city, the prefecture, the country needed her help at all times. She was stronger, faster, and more mobile and durable than most professional heroes, and had fortune of being able to rely on the sun to replenish her energy. Ran tried to use her every available hour to the utmost every day, but she couldn't be everywhere at once.
There was a time when they were younger when she would tagalong with his every step as he rushed head first into mess after mess, always so eager to get to the heart of things. She always had to be there to protect him in case he got in over his head.
Then her powers had grown, until he could lift cars over head with just her fingers, and she began to realize that he wasn't the only one she could protect. And she didn't just have the ability, she had the responsibility to do what she could for as many as she could. There were people in mortal peril at any given time; people that needed her help more than Shinichi did, usually.
Ran had forced herself to come to terms with that.
But now he wasn't answering his phone.
She pulled up his site, hoping he'd left some kind of clue, but found it relatively barren. With the India report, and attack on the city, the RSC break-ins, and the tumultuous KID heist, all of Shinichi's recent stories had been huge. The average reader probably thought he was just taking a breather after such an assortment of disasters, but Ran knew better.
Shinichi didn't take breaks. It went against his nature. So why? Why such a measly number of posts for an entire week? If all of Shinichi's energy was not going into his work as a reporter, where was it all going? He was rushing around as much as ever, too, but the number of scoops he released didn't match the level of his activity at all.
Ran frowned at her phone screen, but no answers appeared. But, his site did have a live feed that sourced from news all over the country, and the most recent urgent report caught her eye.
Akita Shinkansen Derails in southern Senboku
Shinichi would have to wait.
Ran hid her phone. Angel brought out her comm and checked the interface built into her gloves, searching the incident with a few quick taps. Immediately, Professor Sun's advanced search systems had retrieved the exact location of the accident, as well as all other relevant information that could be pulled from local news sources.
In an instant, Angel was in the air, rushing north-west at her highest speeds. The world underneath her turned into a blur of greens and greys as she shot through the sky faster than a bullet. Air rushed against her face, flattening her hair into a wild brown trail, and it roared in her ears until she could hear nothing else. In less than twenty minutes she was coming down in Akita. The accident was easy to evaluate from the air: part of the high-speed trail had derailed from its elevated tracks and now precariously hung over a highway. Terrified passengers were struggling their way up the fallen cars, trying to get into those that remained on the tracks. Though relatively still, the train was swinging dangerously. At a safe distance below, rescue workers and police were already scrambling into position. In all likelihood, helicopters were already on the way to try and hoist the train back up.
But there was no time to waste: with each moment, the train teetered closer to disaster. Ran dropped into the scene with all the confidence and calm she could muster, trying to not let the fear she felt for the passengers show. Immediately, everyone was shouting at her, but she ignored it as she measured her options. Some of the passengers were staring at her with terrified eyes, others shifting back down to chance a look at her, causing the train to shift precariously once more.
"Move away from the windows!" She yelled, her heart racing in her chest. If they heard her, they gave no indication, and Ran forced herself not to panic.
Taking a deep breath, Ran once again rose into the air and situated herself underneath the fallen portion of the train. It was an awkward angle, but with a great heave, she took the full weight upon herself. For a moment, it shifted on top of her terrifyingly, like any second it would fall apart or slip entirely off. But nothing happened, and with another steadying breath, Ran pushed up and flew, forcing the derailed train diagonally through the air, back towards its elevated platform. It groaned as it moved, and shook, and Ran prayed to the heavens for good luck.
The heavens answered, and it all held. She managed to push the derailed portion back on to the platform, and for the first time, heard joyous cheering over her pounding heart. Everyone below was waving their arms, and those in the train she could see were alright, scrambling their way towards the exits that could hopefully still be opened safely.
Everyone would be okay.
"Wow," a voice in her ear said. "That was pretty awesome, Angel-san."
Kaitou KID. There was no way she wouldn't recognize it, considering how it had mocked her and her team at the last heist. KID's voice had been torture during the time she was trapped in that weird sludge, unable to assist her friends.
But Aoko's comm had been retrieved. He shouldn't have been able to get back on their frequency.
"Surprised? Don't worry about it too much, miss." His tone was pleasant and laced with good cheer. Ran could feel her skin prickling with unease. "I'm just calling to ask if you happen to be missing something." The emphasis KID placed on the last two words were unmistakably mocking, as if he knew something she didn't. Ran felt her fists clench, distantly.
What was she missing? With no small amount of trepidation, she checked her phone again. Shinichi still hadn't called back. That was normal. But.
Ran's heart froze with almost irrational fear, and she shot once more into the air with dangerous speeds, streaking back towards Tokyo. In almost no time at all she was shooting over the Tokyo skyline, hurtling towards Beika and practically breathless with panic. The comm was silent, but she didn't know what thet meant: if KID was still on the line, or if he'd hung-up. Ran didn't have time to worry about it.
And while the Kudo Manor stood alight and welcoming, Shinichi's bedroom was empty. His school bag rested on the ground next to his bed, alongside a little white card that read 'Call me!' in flourishing black letters.
Hesitantly, she called him again. On the second ring, there was an answer.
"Bingo!" KID chirped, on both lines: her comm, and the phone. The duality was had her biting her lip in fury. "You guessed it!"
"What have you done with Shinichi?" She snarled into her phone, realizing too late that Angel wasn't supposed to call him so familiarly. Or that undoubtedly, Shinichi's caller ID had identified her as Ran. But if KID already knew enough to know to use Shinichi against her, that was probably already a hopeless cause. Her mind raced with possibilities of what all this could mean.
"Angel, what's goin' on?" Another voice came over the comm: Kazuha. Ran carefully forced her fingers to ease their grip on her phone, realizing in time that she'd been close to breaking it. Part of her wanted to.
"Banshee, wonderful that you could join us." KID drawled over the line.
Kazuha's voice rose to dangerous levels, and Ran adjusted the comm volume with a frustrated wince. They were wasting time. She had to find Shinichi. "You again! Why I oughta—"
"Riveting, Banshee, riveting." Ran checked her interface and saw that Hattori had checked in as well, probably clued in by Kazuha. Hakuba and Aoko weren't far behind, but still her heart pounded and she struggled to remain grounded on the floor of Shinichi's empty bedroom. "Well," KID's voice was jovial, and Ran wanted to scream into her phone, "since we're all here, why don't we all get together?"
Sequestered away in a dimly lit control room, he stared down at the phone in his hand. He had answered on cue, on the second ring after the name Ran had popped up on screen.
He set the phone down next to the monocle on the desk, watching them gleam in the light of the computers and security feeds. On screen, the hostage was already in position, and nondescript trucks were already on the move throughout the city. He tracked them through traffic cams, looking for any changes in the pre-planned routes. The timer was already ticking down; they just needed to make sure everyone was in the right positions before they commenced.
The Irregulars were on the move already, heading towards the selected location. As expected, Heliopause and Banshee would detour to pick up their less-flighty comrades. Angel was already touching down on the roof of the tallest office building in the city, her head turning wildly from side to side as she searched for her target.
"KID?" She shouted, her voice an awkward blend of anger and concern. It was a familiar combination. "Show yourself!"
He activated the program with a few quick taps on the keyboard, setting it on its first dialogue path, then leaned back and watched the plan unfold.
He didn't know how to feel about any of this.
Ran was freaking out, just a little. Her boyfriend had seemingly been kidnapped, an unpredictable super-villain had his phone, their main mode of communication had been compromised for who knew how long, and she had been called to meet the supposed perpetrator in a location of his choosing.
And she was there anyway, knowing full well it was probably a trap. Her dad would be furious if he knew. Her mom too, probably. Even Shinichi would be. He'd probably shout at her until his voice broke. But that was part of why she had to be there. If Shinichi was danger, there had to be something she could do.
Yet, the rooftop was empty when she arrived, and night was quickly swallowing up the sky. The others would be slower to arrive, undoubtedly. She had broken her own record speeds, compromising her own safety rules.
It wasn't fast enough.
"KID!" She yelled again, her voice carrying in the open air.
"Behind you, miss." Ran spun around when she heard his smooth voice. He stood behind her, suddenly, white suit gleaming in the rising moonlight. She was sure he hadn't been there when she arrived,but that hardly mattered right now.
"Where's Shinichi? What have you done with him?" There was no sign of her boyfriend, and though KID was an astounding magician, she doubted even he could hide an entire teenager under a cape. She stormed towards him anyway, pulling herself up to her full height and feeling the power building under her skin. The air started to hum with it, as her skin began to shine.
KID didn't seem intimidated in the slightest. She stopped just steps away, fists clenched and trembling by her sides. It took all of her self-control to keep them there.
"What a silly question. Haven't you heard? I have something of a reputation of stealing away precious things." The thief purred, voice dark and sensuous, as this time he prowled around her. He sauntered in circles, eyes sweeping her up and down, his voice layered in implication. The flirtation was a downright mockery, and Ran scowled back, barely restraining herself. She wanted to dash forward and punch him in the jaw, but the thought of Shinichi kept her still. Glancing down at her clenched fists, KID's easy smile twisted maliciously, two perfect rows of white teeth glinting in the faint moonlight. "And you have misplaced something very, very valuable." He was suddenly two steps closer, and Ran jerked back. A chill crept up her spine as his smirk only grew more pronounced, cutting through the night like a razor-blade. Beneath the brim of his hat a single dark eye was visible, carrying a predator's dangerous gaze. The thief's expression would not be out of place if there was a priceless, legendary jewel before him, with those ravenous, possessive eyes and greed pumping in his veins. Anxiety coursed through her, as if her greatest treasures were on display without defense: vulnerable and ripe for the taking.
Ran's mind raced in confused circles. Why had he taken Shinichi? Why was he targeting her?
"Is this about Tsuyu?" She asked, suddenly. Ran didn't quite understand what was going on between KID and Aoko, just that they apparently had a not-relationship in their civilian identities.
KID suddenly turned away, his cape fluttering oddly in the still air. For the first time, Ran realized the wind was unusually light.
"We're not here to talk about that, miss. Is that really what you want to focus on right now?" His voice seemed to come from everywhere around her, even though he was right before her eyes, facing away and looking out over the city. "How irresponsible. You really must learn to cherish what you have." He glanced back at her and tutted, teasingly, but the seriousness of the words hit as hard as pelted stones. And Ran remembered when she was just a little girl, a dark figure leaning over her and Shinichi in the library. How irresponsible, that stranger had said, your parents must learn to keep better track of you little terrors.
The memory was suddenly so vivid, but Ran hadn't thought about that bizarre encounter in years. "Shall I teach you?" She realized belatedly that it was the same voice currently snaking out of the thief's mouth, slithering through the air and sinking its fangs in her flesh, spewing nothing but poison for the mind and soul.
She didn't understand. Nothing was making sense.
But she had to focus. Shinichi was in danger.
KID was usually recognized as a nonviolent criminal, but Ran knew that meant nothing. While he may never lay a hand on his adversaries, KID did not need a weapon beyond his tongue to slaughter.
She forced her mouth to open, to speak, gathering her aggravation and turning it into courage. She couldn't lose herself to his riddles. "What can you possibly have to teach me?"
He chuckled when she snapped at him, condescendingly. That damn visible eye danced with amusement, and her hands twitched to strike him, to show the phantom who exactly he is messing with. She remained still, waiting for her chance to strike. "Hmm, I wonder." He hummed, and his tone was melodious, and the rage building in her dwindled.
The man in the library had hummed like that. The man in the library had sent them home safely.
This was just another game. It had to be. There was a riddle here, some message clenched in the beak of the dove. She needed to decode his actions, not let the act fool her, and especially not get lost in his masks and mischief. Shinichi was always reminding her to consider all the evidence before she came to a conclusion, and to never dismiss what she knew just because she stumbled across contradictory evidence.
If there was only one truth then, when it came to KID, the truth was that he was nothing particularly dangerous in comparison to most of the opponents she faced. She could handle him, and she could save Shinichi too.
"I have a proposition. A contest!" He suddenly clapped, gloved hands coming together, and Ran flinched instinctually. But then she forced herself to relax.
Things were becoming a little clearer.
KID was delivering a challenge. KID loved challenges.
But Ran could more than handle a bit of competition.
KID spun his hands with flourish. "Right now, a certain person is in great peril, but many are capable of rescuing him." Him. In peril. The churning dread settled in her stomach. "I propose a race, of sorts. First to rescue him wins. Nice and simple."
Shinichi was in danger. And KID absolutely knew the where, how, why, and who.
It was not like KID to put a life at stake for a game, though. Should be comforted, then, that Shinichi was probably alright? But, maybe, just maybe, the trickster was showing his true colors. Maybe doves could be crows after all.
"KID!" Hakuba's voice cut through the air, and the rest of her team appeared over the edge of the rooftop. Hattori let Hakuba down on the roof as he hovered in the air, and Ran was pleasantly surprised to see Kazuha dump Aoko down on the tiles with little grace as she tumbled down. Kazuha's mode of "flight", more of an elaborate game of sling-shot and ricochet than anything else, wasn't exactly easy on passengers. Aoko was looking a little pale and green, but her presence meant the Baron had temporarily reinstated her field permit.
Her team gathered behind her, Ran turned back to the thief and raised her head confidently. Hakuba stepped up to stand by her side, and Ran could tell from his expression that he had heard everything, either through the comms or on the way.
"Why would we play your game?" Hakuba hissed. He looked more serious and deadly than Ran had ever seen him, but that wasn't surprising. Hakuba took the safety of the people he cared about very seriously.
"Well, what do you think will happen if you don't, Dodo-san?" The thief asked, facetiously. "But don't worry, there's a bit more incentive than that too. The prize tonight?" The thief spread his arms wide, his voice rising theatrically. "The unmasking of the world famous Kaitou KID!"
They all froze, staring with wide eyes. Aoko especially had gone very still, staring at the thief with a sad expression of disbelief mingled with hope. Ran felt her stomach twist at the sight of it. "But," KID drew out the vowel, "it would be too easy if you guys got to work together. Five against one isn't fair." Ran swallowed down the protests that arose on her lips. What did that even mean? "And if I catch any of you cheating," he pointed to the comms he knew very well were sitting in their ears. "Well, game over." He dragged a finger over his neck. "Everybody loses."
Ran's blood went cold, feeling as if KID has emptied a bucket of ice over her head. She had an idea of who the biggest loser would be. "Well, if everyone understands the rules, we'll begin."
"Like hell we do!" Hattori snarled, but Hakuba threw up a hand and silenced him.
"KID, we don't even have the slightest idea of where the hostage is. That doesn't exactly make for a fair game." Hakuba's voice was calm and carefully measured. It was the kind of voice that promised a long, permanent sentence.
KID shrugged. "Now, now, don't get your panties in a bunch. You'll get a hint in, uh, maybe, five seconds?"
A deep rumble echoed over the city, and briefly the darkening sky was illuminated. A brilliant light flashed across the skyline, and in its wake, an immense blaze.
Something in the distance had exploded, and exploded spectacularly.
"And that's game start!" KID laughed, as Hattori rushed him, nothing more than a black blur. KID didn't move, didn't even twitch, and for a moment Ran's heart soared. They could end this, right now.
Hattori went right through the thief, easily as air, only catching light on his skin. KID—KID's image flickered and reconstructed, the hologram restored as he laughed and waved towards the fire rising in the distance.
Of course. KID would never risk meeting them in person, not when he was at such a physical disadvantage. KID grinned at them, smug as anything. "And remember, I'm listening!" The image flickered once, then vanished. Nothing had even been there.
Hakuba's eyes were locked on the smoldering sky, watching the fresh tower of black smoke billow into the atmosphere. He had probably known the whole time that the KID they were addressing was nothing more than an illusion.
Ran turned back to the developing disaster. Shinichi was somewhere in that mess.
"We have to split up." Hakuba said, gravely. Ran bit her lip and tried to ignore how cold those words made her feel.
Hattori spun towards him with an expression of abject disbelief. "Seriously?"
Hakuba glared right back, through the sharp eyes of his beaked domino mask. "You all heard KID's rules. I'd rather not test them." Ran knew they couldn't risk it: not when they had no idea what sort of situation Shinichi was in. "We'll all have to get there on our own. Don't wait up, go as fast as you each can." That meant, most certainly, that Ran would be the first on the scene. Hattori would be second. Hakuba could very well be the last. All eyes turned to the city, plotting routes, options, transportation. That that couldn't fly would have to call upon the Baron's resources. Hakuba carried on, his voice steady and unwavering. If he was frustrated, he did not show it. "When you arrive, these are your orders: Tsuyu, work on putting out these fires. Banshee, incapacitate any perpetrators you find, as many as you can. Heliopause, try to find and detain KID. Angel, find Shinichi." Ran's heart seemed to beat out of rhythm. There weren't words in existence capable of conveying how grateful she was to hear that. "I'll search for any civilians. Understood?"
Aoko was biting her lip, a protest clearly brewing. "Hawk, KID—"
"No, Tsuyu." Hakuba cut her off, clearly anticipating her objection. Ran understood how she felt, but for once she had no sympathy to spare. They had to get moving. "You're the only one we can count on to get the fires under control. Now, go!"
Ran couldn't have shot off the roof quickly enough.