Reluctant Hero

15. Aoko's realization

In Aoko's line of work, hotels almost seemed like her second office or some sort. She had visited many and been on all kinds of different floor, from the cheaper rooms at the lower levels to as prestigious and rich as those presidential suite on those higher levels.

This time it was the middle. An Executive suite, very fitting for the manager of a tech company to use and bill it off as a company purpose. But Aoko didn't think so, and same for her client.

The budget given to Aoko for this job rather generous, or so to speak. With her hotel card in hand, Aoko pressed the floor to her room she booked right next to the cheating husband's one. The floor button lit up in silver and the door closed before it began to descend.

There was still a long way to go before reaching her floor, but Aoko felt the lift slowing down, and then it stopped, just a few levels after the lobby. She glanced at the lift directory signage. The lift had stopped on the floor where there was a function room.

As the door slowly opened, widening the gap for Aoko to see what was on the floor, her quick glance spotted something.

Lots of people.

And cameras.

Like an instinct, she knew what was coming and quickly turned her head away, which was a millisecond before flashes and flashes burst into sight, possibly blinding her if she hadn't looked away.

Then the voices came.

"Excuse me! Mr. Goldberg!"

"Mr. Goldberg, please wait—!"

Barely opening her eyes. Aoko darned whoever that pressed for her lift and slammed her hand against the close button, but just before she heard the door closed, the lift shook under the presence of a sudden weight and something hit pass her shoulder. It all happened so quick, and in the next second, the sound of the snapping cameras and chants of begging pleas for this Mr. Golberg-whoever faded away, leaving only the lift's delicate music playing in the background.

"Lucky." A male voice said.

Aoko flung open her eyes.

She did it too fast; there were white dots in her vision and Aoko tried to blink them away. Her normal sight came back soon enough, and when everything was cleared, the first thing she saw was yellow.

Yellow hair.

A man standing next to her.

His pale skin seemed to be glowing under the warm, elevator lights, which was the same thing for his hair. Everything about him—his appearance, attire and poise—told her he wasn't local, but his accent already did give the answer away.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah." Aoko cleared her throat. "You—"

"You and the lift came in time to save me." He chuckled lightly. "The paparazzi these days are amazing. Really energetic and passionate with their work."

Aoko couldn't disagree, but there was nothing else she know to say, so she smiled awkwardly and looked away.

"My name is Gunter Von Goldberg. You can call me Gunter." He said and looked at her expectedly. It was only a few seconds had passed than Aoko realized he was waiting for her to reply.

But she didn't ask for his, though.

Swallowing the sigh in her, she mustered a smile. "I'm Aoko."

"You're not a paparazzo, are you?" He said, eyes flickering to her camera-bag.

Aoko tugged onto the strapped on her shoulder. "No, I'm not." She said, and it was all the information she was willing to give.

But despite that, he seemed to have come up with more than just a simple conclusion on his own. "I see." He smiled knowingly (but it didn't quite seem to reach his eyes) before he began unbuttoning the cuffs of his expensive-looking suit.

She had no idea who this Gunter guy was, and why there were so many paparazzi out there trying to take a picture of him, but it wouldn't take a brain cell to know he must be well-known enough to garner such attention from the paparazzi. But well-known for the good or bad… Aoko wouldn't know until she google it up.

Which she obviously couldn't do now.

But there was something about him that made her weirdly nervous as she stuffed a hand into her jeans pocket, a sort of pathetic attempt to hide her fidgets. It wasn't about being in a lift with a possibly famous person (she had a fair amount of moments meeting well-known people in her line of work, be it good or very bad). It was something about the aura that he was radiating. Some kind of confidence; like he knew something she didn't, and that he was laughing at her in his head all along.

Similar to the first few times when she met Kaitou Kid.

Really, thanks to her coincidental luck with Kid and the meetings with him (especially that museum visit and Gozu's chase episode), Aoko had grown more cautious towards her surrounding and people; Often she would expect someone to suddenly tear the mask off their face, showing the curve of his smug lips and blue eyes (that she might have missed) before bursting out laughing in that snarky tone and calling her a fool for believing his disguise.

She could imagine that most of the time, but she couldn't imagine it now.

Something in her gut told her Gunter could never be Kid.

He couldn't be.

Gunter was calm, in an eerie way. His eyes were blue, but it looked somewhat dead. However there was still this uncanny sense of similarity Aoko found between Gunter and Kid, and she couldn't put that thought into words. It was like a mix of unpredictability, mistrust and a pinch of terror; only the bad feelings she ever felt towards Kid were compressed inside the lift, suffocating her—

"Is there something wrong with my face?"

"Wha— No." Aoko straightened (She had been so deep in her thoughts she didn't realize she was peeking). "Um, sorry. I was just… wondering about something." She sputtered.

"I see." Gunter said before some kind of enlightenment hit his face. "Ah, anyway, I have yet to thank you for helping me."

And Aoko was hoping their conversation was over. She briefly glanced at the red digits above the lift door; there was still some more floors to go. "I didn't do anything." She waved a hand weakly.

"If you weren't in the lift, I'll still be outside the function room and hounded by the paparazzi."

"I'm sure the hotel staffs would—"

"Here, for you."

In his hand was a ticket that he had whipped out from the inner pockets of his suit. It looked like it was dipped in gold, and against the shimmery colour were black italic fonts, spelling the words: The Illusionist — Gunter Von Goldberg II's Second Asia Tour.

Illusionist? "I can't accept this." Aoko shook her head.

"It's a small token of my appreciation." He said and pushed the ticket into her hand, which she embarrassedly caught it before it slipped from her grasp. "I would love it if you can come and watch my show."

"I—"

The elevator chimed with a sharp ding! and the door opened.

It was Aoko's floor.

The relief washed over her that she couldn't be bothered with her excuse and took the ticket, just so she could get out of the lift as fast as possible.

Gunter smiled. "Goodbye Aoko. I'll see you at my show."

Aoko opened her mouth. Of course she wasn't going to promise him anything, but her tongue didn't obey, as though it was… being controlled. She gaped like a fish, trying to find the words to speak, but before she could say anything, the lift door closed and it continued ascending, up and up to the highest floor.

His room must be really expensive. Aoko gulped and stared at the ticket in her hand. And this must be really expensive too.

Whatever.

She stuffed the ticket into the back of her pocket, hoisted her camera bag and walked towards the room her job called her here for.

.o.

In the end, Aoko went.

It wasn't because she wanted to fulfil the non-existent promise. There were just so many factors to think about, like the need of a well-deserved break after her tiring case, the fact that the performance was held right across the theatre opposite the hotel, and that she was also curious about the differences between those traditional magicians and an illusionist. It was these little things; the curiosity, coincidence and the why-not? mindset that made it hard for her to just get up and go home.

When she arrived and showed the ticket to the usher, his expression changed from bored to professional as he led her inside the theatre. He brought her all the way to the front, sitting alongside with other people with thick suits and dresses and alluding an air of I-am-rich.

Aoko was definitely very under-dress in this seat category. And she thought this was just a simple performance show.

Guess not.

The show began no sooner after she settled down.

"Ladies and Gentleman! Welcome to my show!" Mr. Goldberg—Gunter—or whatever he was called, appeared on the stage with two arms in the air. Not appeared in the way like walking onto the stage; he was floating down from the curtains above, and despite how hard Aoko tried to squint her eyes, she couldn't see any metal strings attached to him anywhere.

The crowd cheered.

She couldn't help but applauded for that entrance.

Almost throughout the performance, Aoko heard the audiences' ohhhs and ahhhs more often then Gunter spoke. She wasn't a master in magic performances, per se, but she did figure out some of the mechanism used during the show, like hypnotism, special digital effects and the art of distraction—

Art of distraction, huh.

Um ok, this was getting weird. Aoko shook her head and straightened on her seat. She was here for the show, not to think about Kid (if she had actually paid for the ticket it would be a waste).

Focus. Focus.

Everything ended an hour later.

When Aoko was about to leave (it was rather overwhelming with the amount of rich people around her), a theatre staff suddenly approached and asked her to follow him to the backstage. For the quickest second she thought there was a murder (because statistically it always seemed to happen after a performance), but she remembered she wasn't Kudo Shinichi, and there was no way anyone would know she was an investigator too.

So when she spotted Gunter standing by the backstage door with his arms crossed and waiting, Aoko already saw it coming.

The theatre staff left.

Gunter smiled. "Hi, Aoko."

"Hi." Aoko managed a smile, her teeth gritting nervously. She wished she could correct him on the way of calling her name so directly, but she found no will or point to do it. This would be their last meeting anyway.

"How do you like my show?" He asked.

"I enjoyed it."

"I knew you would."

It took all of Aoko's nerves to not cringe at the confidence Gunter was showing. Even Kid wasn't as annoying when he—

Why am I still thinking about him now?

"Do you want to have dinner with me?" Gunter asked.

Aoko blinked.

Yes, it was a nice performance, and it'd be a loss if one didn't get to see such talent, but screw that! This was the moment when she regretted coming, not just to the backstage but to the show. Tracking back, she regretted being in that lift too. If she had woken five minutes earlier, if she had beaten the traffic light when she was on the way to the hotel, if she didn't stop to chat with the hotel counter staff, maybe she wouldn't have met him.

And he wouldn't be so... nice to her.

Was this some kind of foreigner thing? Being so friendly towards people they barely knew?

But something in her gut was telling her it was more than that...

Aoko pursed her lips, realising she had yet to answer. "Um—"

"Mr. Goldberg!"

Both of them turned.

A crowd of people was running down the corridor and towards them.

"Can we take a photo?" A woman holding a polaroid camera exclaimed.

"Can you sign this for me?" A male teenager showed a poster and marker.

And behind them, five other people began shouting too, while waving whatever they wanted Gunter to do in their hands.

Safe!

"I think you're busy." Aoko gestured over to the fans and stepped away. "And this time I can't help you with it."

"What about the dinner?" He looked at her, just like that moment in the lift when he told her he would see her at the show... It was a force Aoko couldn't resist against,and she couldn't move her throat to tell him a no—

The phone in her back pocket vibrated, and Aoko broke the eye contact she didn't realize they were having until she looked down at her phone. It was the usual advertisement message, but it was a good distraction.

"I'll pass." She said, keeping the phone to her chest. "I'll be going off now."

"Alright then. I'll see you soon." Gunter said before Aoko ran past the group of fans and out of the backstage.

Not soon. But ok.

Nothing could compel her to turn back.

She had always considered her meeting with Kid weird, but this was another level. In the span of one day, Aoko's discomfort had multiplied more times than what Kid had given her, all combined. But maybe Gunter wasn't the problem. It could be her. She was the problem. She must have offended some stars in the universe, leading to such complicated fate in meeting strangest people in the strangest way.

Or maybe it had to do with the twisted karma she got for killing a possibly cursed spider in her old house when she was five.

.o.

Apparently Aoko had been living in a cave, or on another planet, or under a rock, because when she told Keiko she saw Gunter in the lift, and that he gave her a ticket to his show, and they even met backstage, she couldn't understand why Keiko reacted like she was about to flip her house upside down.

Keiko facepalmed. "Why are you taking this so… casually?"

Aoko frowned (She knew she made the right choice for not mentioning her rejection to Gunter's offer for dinner too). "What is my response supposed to be?"

"You're supposed to feel like the luckiest girl in the world of course!" Keiko exclaimed, but kept her volume down quickly, not wanting to wake up her baby when she'd spend almost an hour hoaxing him to sleep. Rising up from the coach, she tip-toed to her bookshelves and pulled out a magazine before returning to show it to Aoko.

On the cover was a picture of Gunter, with big bold letters spelling World's most famous illusionist visiting his last stop: TOKYO for his second Asia Tour! across his chest.

Oh.

With so many paparazzi and audiences, Aoko knew Gunter had a reputation, but world famous?

The world didn't include her, then.

"He's like super popular around the world. And for him to do all those things you said is anyone's dream come true." Keiko placed a hand theatrically on her chest and sighed. "And Jesus, do you even know how much a ticket cost?"

Aoko did guess it was expensive, but she found no incentive to google it up so she didn't bother. "Um, no."

"Well anyway, I think you've hit the jackpot."

"What jackpot?"

Keiko gestured her head towards the magazine.

"Oh. Uh, whatever the cost of the ticket is, I guess it's well-budgeted; the show is really interesting and high-tech. But illusionism isn't really my thing, to be honest." Aoko shrugged and placed the magazine on the coffee table. "I'm more into the traditional form of magic. Like doves and cards, those kind of things."

"I'm not talking about the cost of the ticket or the show." Keiko shook her head. "I'm talking about a potential boyfriend."

Aoko choked. "Potential what?"

"Boyfriend."

"I heard you. I'm just in disbelief."

"Why?"

"Because of your delusion and imagination; He's not local and he travels around, and we only met two days ago. That's it. It's impossible."

"Why do you only pinpoint the negatives? He seems interested in you!"

"Still not possible."

"In this day and age anything is possible when it comes to love."

It was back to the conversation at the hospital again, which Aoko would like to avoid now. "And nothing is one of the possibilities too."

"I really can't believe your heart didn't waver when you're alone with him in the lift."

Oh boy, it was so much more than that. Aoko shivered at the memory of that minute of her life. She didn't like it, and she wished she would never experience that again.

"Have your heart ever wavered before?" Keiko asked, just to keep the conversation going when Aoko didn't answer. "Like something in you changed because of someone."

Heart-wavering? Aoko had no idea how it felt, or if she had felt it before and wasn't conscious of it... But she was sure her life had changed in an unexpected way when Kid—

Her face must have shown something because Keiko started smiling. "So there's someone. I knew it, since that day at the hospital."

Aoko sighed. "There's nobody."

"Then tell me," Keiko challenged. "What were you thinking two seconds ago?"

Aoko sighed, again. "It's complicated."

Two words were all it took to send Keiko into a panicky mode. "Aoko, here's my advice." She grabbed her hand. "Don't love a damaged person just because you think you can heal them with your love—"

"Wait, no. You got it all wrong. I don't love him. He's not damaged. And I have no intention to heal him with my love."

A small smirk spread across Keiko's cheeks. "So there's a he."

"It's nothing." Aoko gritted her teeth and pulled her hand back.

Keiko frowned. "If you don't love him, why bother taxing your time thinking about it?"

"I'm just conflicted about some things."

"Why?"

To say or not to say? Aoko bit her lip. She didn't want Keiko to further misunderstand the situation, but this whole issue had been bugging her since the time she met Kid at the hospital; how he left so hastily, so uncaring, and even asking her to hurry up and use that last favour already without much concern that it would also mean the end of everything between them.

It was a little unfair, but at the same time she didn't have the rights to feel that way.

Nothing personal should be tied to it in the first place.

So say it, Aoko decided, before her mental health suffered. If that happened, it would definitely be very unfair.

"The next time we met..." Aoko mumbled, rubbing a hand behind her neck. "...could be the last time we ever see each other again."

There, finally, she'd admitted it. That one-sided confliction. Her unease. And the sole reason why she kept the flip phone locked in her drawer, afraid to use it any time soon.

Keiko raised an eyebrow. "On what basis?"

"An agreement."

"An agreement?" Keiko echoed. "Can't you mend that or something?"

It wasn't like Aoko didn't try— She did ask if he wanted to join her and work together once. But that night when he gave his irresolute answer, with his back facing her and voice so cold on the bed, it was the last time they ever mentioned about it.

She wasn't going to bring it up, of course, unless he did. But the thought and hope of it seemed rather bleak.

"It's not something I can mend however I want." Aoko squirmed in her seat.

"...Aoko," Keiko paused. "Are you in love with your client?"

"W-What?" Aoko gasped, horrified. "Of course not! How do you even come up with that conclusion? And I already said I'm not in love."

"Really?" Keiko narrowed her eyes. "You've been working very tough lately. Is it because you're busy with the case of the client you are in love with? Is this client asking you to catch his cheating wife? And that after the case is over, you won't be able to meet him anymore? Is that it?"

"None of the above." Aoko waved a hand over Keiko's face, trying to stop her and her imagination from running. "This is totally blown out of proportion."

"To what extent?"

"A lot."

"Then what is it? And who's the person you'll miss after he's gone?"

"Miss?" Aoko jerked back, almost disgusted at the thought. "I don't miss him. Wait, I mean I won't miss him." And then she realized the stupidity of correcting herself, and cleared her throat. "I mean I don't and won't miss him."

After watching Aoko's blabbering with a withering look, Keiko sighed. "If you're afraid that the next meeting with him would be the last, isn't it because you will miss him once he's gone?"

Aoko blinked. "...No, it's not true."

"Yes it is." Keiko muttered. "Anyway, you haven't told me who's that guy."

"You don't know him." Aoko said, which wasn't a full lie. Keiko only knew Kaitou Kid as a thief, and that was it. There was so much about him, which Aoko wished she could tell Keiko, but of course that wasn't going to happen.

"Fine." Keiko huffed. "But can't you be kind enough and at least tell me his name then?"

That was the thing, too.

Aoko didn't know his real name.