Chapter 2

Saguru stayed in the entryway gripping the doorknob for dear life. This could not be real. Outside the door everything was silent. A young voice asked something, wavering nervously, and Aoko answered. No one knocked on his door. A decade ago, he was sure Aoko would have. The door next door clicked shut and Saguru heard feet on the stairs going down. He relaxed his grip on the doorknob.

The mail slot near the bottom of his door squeaked open. "Hakuba, I know you're still there," an adult male voice said—Kuroba said.

"…Just a moment." Saguru turned the knob and the door swung outward. Kuroba stood on the other side, dressed in a worn dress shirt and blue jeans, hands stuffed in his pockets. His hair was as wild as ever, a bit shorter than Saguru remembered. He had lines around his eyes and on his cheeks—smile lines, Mum would call them. Considering the lines in between Kaito's eyebrows, smiling was not the only expression causing lines. Kuroba still had a boyish face despite the lines. He had aged better than Saguru had.

Kuroba lifted an eyebrow examining Saguru as completely as Saguru was examining him. His eyes lingered on Saguru's leg and cane before coming to rest on Saguru's hair. "You're starting to go grey," he said like an accusation.

Saguru lifted an eyebrow in return. "It means I'll keep my hair in my old age," he countered. They could have been in high school again in that moment, poking fun at each other as they each tried to catch the other with his guard down. Then the spark of mischief Kuroba had in his eyes faded. He ran a hand through his hair making it stick up further.

"So."

"So." Kuroba looked like he was on the verge of shutting the door and pretending the whole thing had never happened. It was tempting to let him, but Saguru, in a moment of impulse, stepped back. "Tea?"

Kuroba laughed. "Is your first answer to a problem always going to be tea?"

"I would have thought you would expect my first answer to a problem to be reaching for handcuffs," Saguru said back wryly. He didn't miss the slight tensing of Kuroba's cheeks and eyes, but he ignored it, turning to enter his kitchen/living room. "You don't have to worry about anything like that from me anymore," Saguru said. "I don't have slippers, so please, just take off your shoes. I haven't been here long enough to expect guests."

Kuroba hovered in the doorway and Saguru could feel his eyes sizing up Saguru's back as Saguru carefully maneuvered his stiff knee up the one stair into the main portion of the apartment. The door closed and Saguru heard Kaito taking off his shoes. Saguru went to put on the kettle. He was glad now that he hadn't bothered to put the tea away after breakfast.

"Sit down wherever you would like," Saguru said as he clicked on the burner. He took two tea cups out of the cupboard. "Do you still take sugar in your tea? Because if you do I am afraid I am out. I haven't bought many staples yet." He turned around with teacups in hand. Kuroba was looking around with an unreadable expression.

"No," he said. "I'm fine with my tea plain. Are you trying to become a monk?" Kuroba asked. "This seems way too plain for Mr. Fancy Watch and Manor House."

Saguru smiled wryly. "I've gotten used to plainer accommodations over the years." It wasn't a lie, but the apartment was austere even by his shifted standards. It was part that he had taken the minimum amount of things with him possible, part the room's size.

"Do you plan on living here long?" Kuroba was eying the futon like he didn't expect to find it there. Had he expected a Western bed? While Saguru preferred a bed, it wouldn't have been practical to get one.

"I'm not sure," Saguru said. He set the empty cups on his desk, pushing his briefcase to the side. "I will be here for at least the school year."

"School year?" Kuroba shot him a sharp look.

Saguru raised an eyebrow, moving to get the loose leaf tea. "I'm a teacher, Kuroba-k…san." He felt Kuroba's gaze intensify at the slip. He wasn't sure what to call Kuroba now. They had never been particularly close, and now they could barely be called acquaintances for all that they had a shared history.

"What happened to being a detective?" Kuroba asked harshly.

Saguru tapped his bad leg with his cane, drawing attention to both. "This happened. It's a bit hard to chase down crime when you can barely walk." He glanced over his shoulder. "Have you become a magician?"

Kuroba flinched and looked away. "Nah. That didn't work out. A lot of things didn't work out."

It was too depressing in here, Saguru thought. He willed the kettle to heat faster. Tea would make things a bit less awkward. "I'm teaching English at Ekoda High," Saguru said. "One of the teachers is on maternity leave for the next year. I'll be on staff at least that long. I'm not sure if I will try to stay longer or not."

"…I work at a museum now," Kuroba said. "Conservation. I keep things from crumbling to dust and make replicas if they need them."

"If you're a conservator, why on earth are you living in such terrible accommodations?" Saguru asked. "Surely it pays more than what I'm being paid."

Kuroba laughed. "It's close to Takumi's school and I can afford it, child support, and to add to Takumi's college fund at the same time. Why aren't you living with your parents?"

"It's too far from the school for me to manage and can you imagine moving back in with your mother?" Kuroba shuddered at the idea. Saguru smirked. "Exactly. I'll take a small apartment with my limited budget than living at my parents' expense."

The kettle whistled and Saguru plucked it from the stove. He plopped the tea into it and let it sit for a minute before holding the strainer over each cup and pouring the tea through. The kettle went back on the stove with the heat turned off and the strainer went in the sink. He'd clean it later. Kuroba finally seemed to relax. He made himself comfortable on Saguru's floor as Saguru offered him a teacup.

"It's black tea," Saguru said. "I am not sure where I packed the green tea."

"It's fine," Kuroba said taking a sip. His eyes went half lidded with contentment, hands cupping the hot porcelain like they needed the warmth. Saguru watched him a moment then set his own teacup back on the desk.

"I hope you don't mind me taking the chair," Saguru said, easing himself into the seat. He swore he could hear his knee creak.

"I figured you would need it with your leg."

They sipped their tea and the LED clock next to his futon counted up the minutes. Nine thirty-four… five… six. "So," Saguru said.

"So," Kuroba echoed with a sigh. He rested the teacup on his knee. "The divorce was mostly amicable," he said. "She got custody but I get Takumi on weekends. He can visit whenever he wants provided he sticks to his curfew." He twisted the cup around in one hand, watching the tea shift. "Ah. Aoko and I got married about a couple months after we graduated high school. You were already back in England then. We were kind of in a rush." He coughed. "Um. Takumi was born about six months later."

Saguru took a sip of his tea to cover his surprise. Well, that was one reason to rush into a marriage.

"We figured we were going to get married eventually anyway," Kuroba said. He stared blankly at the depths of his teacup. "And we had been friends since forever... Nothing really turned out how we planned."

Saguru watched Kuroba's expression closely. It was a mask, like KID's only without the smile. "When did you tell her?" he asked finally.

Kuroba's hand twitched, sloshing tea that miraculously remained in the cup. No expression showed on his face. Saguru set his tea aside and laced his fingers together. He hated that he had guessed right.

"I'm sorry she took it poorly," Saguru said. "I always thought she would stay by your side in the end."

Kuroba's hand was shaking, not much, just enough to send ripples along the surface of the tea. Saguru wondered if it meant Kuroba was restraining tears, anger, or fear. The tea stilled. "Takumi was four," Kuroba said finally. No pretending he didn't know what Saguru was hinting at or protestations that he wasn't Kid. Acceptance.

"That's unfortunate."

"He doesn't know anything about it."

"It's probably better that way," Saguru said, though he wondered.

"Probably." Kuroba laughed hollowly. "Watch, he'll be like me and find out—" He choked off, torn between upset and grim amusement.

Saguru looked away. It was unsettling to see Kuroba show his emotions so easily. "I was shot four months after graduation," he said changing the topic. "It was a sniper. I don't know why he shot out my knee rather than going for a killing shot, but I wasn't able to find out much about who did it after." He picked up the tea cup again as much to warm his hands and chase away the memory of bleeding out on a London side street as to drink it. He took a sip, the dark, bitter flavor shoring him up and blocking out the past. "I spent four months healing and four more in rehabilitation just to be able to walk as much as I can now. I should have gotten a knee replacement or even an amputation—there was an infection, they almost did amputate my leg… I thought I could overcome it like I overcame everything else." He laughed darkly. "I tried to go back into detective work and almost got killed trying to trail a suspect. I couldn't handle the kinds of cases I used to take."

"So you gave up?" Kuroba asked sharply. He glared over his teacup like Saguru's retirement as a detective was a personal offense. Maybe to Kaitou Kid, one of his detectives giving up was a personal offense. Saguru smiled.

"No. I went to college and continued taking small cases on the side. Ones that didn't require a lot of investigative work and had minimal danger involved. I even worked with the police at times helping direct investigations, but it wasn't a job I would be able to live off of. I decided to go into teaching. I thought I could make an impact that way. Teach children how to be more observational and maybe find some that could be promising detectives someday." He frowned at his cup, tracing the floral pattern along its side. "I became a chemistry teacher and taught for a while. I continued taking small cases on the side…moved in with someone…got married..." He took a swallow of tea, pretending he didn't see Kuroba's eyebrows going up. "Then I messed up."

"Messed up how?"

"I took a case I shouldn't have," Saguru said. "And I lost someone important to me."

"Oh." Kuroba looked away. "Um… you wouldn't happen to have something stronger than tea would you? Because this conversation is starting to need it."

Saguru snorted. He looked away quickly to hide wiping his eyes. "I'm afraid tea is the strongest thing I have here."

"Hmm, well I know not to go to your place to party," Kuroba said, and Saguru wondered why he hadn't made an effort to be friends with Kuroba earlier. If he'd made it clear that he was on Kuroba's side against the snipers he'd noticed…if he had been less prideful and self-absorbed… He still wouldn't have gotten close to Kuroba because Kuroba kept people out. And a younger Saguru would have felt morally bound to convince Kuroba to turn himself in. Morals were less absolute than they once were.

Saguru set the remnants of his tea aside. It was cold now. "Your son's in first year?"

"Yeah," Kuroba grinned. "He's a lot like I was only law abiding. I taught him magic when he was younger, but he uses it to flirt. I take a walk with him and he conjures a flower for every pretty girl we pass." He rolled his eyes. "I was never that bad was I?"

Saguru grinned. "I can remember you begging chocolate from every girl in class. Including Koizumi-san. And conjuring flowers for your moonlit fans."

"Pssh. Class was a matter of chocolate. No flirting about it."

"Mm hmm, which is why you fawned over Anzu-chan until she gave you her chocolate even though she was saving it for Ueda-kun."

Kuroba grinned, looking truly relaxed for the first time that night. He drained his teacup. "Who knew you had a sense of humor?"

"I think we were too busy actively aggravating each other as teens," Saguru said. "I'm going to be your son's English teacher." He was terrified by the thought. "You say he's not as bad as you?"

"Oh, I didn't say that." Kuroba set the teacup aside and sprawled back on his elbows. "I said he was law abiding. There's a difference."

"I'll pack stain cleaner and an air horn to get the class's attention."

"I can't believe you're a teacher." Kuroba poked him in his good leg with a sock-clad toe. "Do you scare them into listening? Out sarcasm them?"

"I treat them like they have working brains." Saguru pushed Kuroba's foot aside with his own and winced as the change in position put pressure on his bad leg. Something in Kuroba's expression shuttered. "I remember how frustrating it was to be treated like an idiot."

"A lot of them are idiots."

"Mm. But the ones who aren't appreciate the effort." He sat straighter, pulling himself out of Kuroba's range. "Can I get you more tea?"

"Nah. I'm fine." Kuroba was staring again. Saguru wondered what he found. "It's good to see you," he said finally.

"Same." Not for the first time, Saguru wondered if he should have stayed in contact somehow. He had never stopped reading about Kid's appearances in the paper. Each near miss with snipers or the police had worried him. He used to read an imported paper every morning to see if Kid was in it and Mel would—. He cut that thought off before he could take it further. He didn't want to remember. That was why he was in Japan. Saguru realized he had been silent too long. Kuroba was looking at him worriedly. He smiled thinly, and it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It...has been a busy last few days. Jet lag isn't as easy to get over as it used to be."

"I can imagine." Kuroba rolled to his feet like the gymnast he practically was. "I should let you get rest. Tomorrow's going to be hell."

"First days always are." Saguru sighed and levered himself out of the chair. He kept his face blank as he leaned heavier than normal on the cane. Kuroba put the teacup in the sink without comment. He let Saguru lead him to the door and open it.

Saguru leaned on the doorway as Kuroba slipped on his shoes. "I noticed there's a Kid heist Wednesday."

"Mm." Kuroba didn't give anything away in his expression, but Saguru could read the slight tension in Kuroba's shoulders as easily as he had when they were in high school.

"I hope you find what you're looking for," Saguru said.

Kuroba looked up from his shoes, eyes wide. "No veiled threats?"

"I think we've grown past those." Kuroba put his weight on his toes and curled upward more than he stood. Saguru was a bit jealous of his ease of motion. A thirty-four year old man had no right to be that limber. "I'm not with the police anymore. If you ever need any help, I'm offering."

"Okay where is Hakuba and what have you done with him?"

Saguru smirked. "I'm sincere, Kuroba-san. Think of it as a long overdue offer of friendship." He offered a hand, Western style.

Kuroba stared at it. A slow smile filled his face. "You're insane, Hakuba," he said, but he took Saguru's hand and shook it. "And call me Kuroba. Hearing you add 'san' to my name feels weird."

"Good. Kuroba." Saguru felt something close to when he used to chase Kid, a thrill. Maybe it wasn't just chasing Kid that caused it back then. He'd enjoyed competing with him as much as Kid. Offering his help felt risky and impulsive and made him feel more alive than he'd felt in months.

"As neighbors we'll be seeing a lot of each other," Kuroba said. "If you ever need anything I'm a knock away."

"Of course." Saguru let go of Kuroba's hand. "Good night, Kuroba."

"Night." He grinned. "I'm bringing something stronger than tea if we ever have another chat about the past."

Saguru watched him unlock his door in a flourish of keys. His leg ached, he still hadn't unpacked everything properly, and he was probably going to have a first day from hell tomorrow, but it was a little brighter having someone he knew nearby. Perhaps, despite everything, they could even become friends.