It had been almost fifteen years since Saguru had last seen Koizumi Akako; she appeared to have barely aged in that time. When Saguru was ushered into a study room, the Koizumi that awaited him had a bit sharper features and a bit curvier a figure, but her lips had the same knowing smile and she held herself with the same grace and confidence that had caught Saguru's attention in high school. She wore a dress, something undoubtedly high end, with a scandalously low neck line, and just enough gold jewelry to skirt along the edge of gaudy. Saguru could have been anywhere and his eyes would have been drawn to her; there had always been something about Koizumi that could captivate a man, even a man like Saguru who didn't have any interest in women physically.

Koizumi stood to greet him, her smile and once over too familiar for people who hadn't seen each other in years. "Hakuba. I'd say I was surprised, but I could hardly miss that you're back in Japan. I'm not surprised at all that you've become caught up in Kid's mess again. Or should I say Kuroba?"

Straight to the point, then. Saguru gripped his cane, feeling off balance and out of his depth. "You know? About Kuroba?"

Koizumi's smile had an edge of teeth. "I've always known. You're not the only one who's been covering for him over the years. Nightmare, Chat Noir?" she said, eyes glinting dangerously. One hand cupped Saguru's elbow, guiding him toward one of the study's oversized leather chairs. He sat on automatic.

Perhaps it wasn't so strange for Koizumi to know. Not if she was Kuroba's informant. As she returned to the chair across from him, Saguru's mind played out bits of the past. Calling Kuroba from Paris, hiding Kid's glove during the Nightmare incident. But when would Koizumi have covered for him? "...The time with the statue when Kuroba was cuffed to me," Saguru said slowly. "Kid screamed like a girl."

Koizumi laughed. "You always were bright." She crossed her legs and propped her hands on her knees, leaning forward like it was a business meeting she was looking forward to. In a way, it was exactly that. "What does Kuroba need from me this time?"

Right, he was here for Kuroba. Saguru frowned. "He said something about making a new deal and that you would take care of the details. He also said he'd pay the cost, but I don't think he's capable of paying back much of anything right now." For all that Kuroba was recovering and pushing limits remarkably fast, there was a certainty in him that Kuroba was running out of his trademark good luck and he didn't have much to work with at the moment. He would be doing no favors anytime soon or trading in whatever social capital Koizumi must be working with.

Koizumi looked smugger. She gave Saguru a once over that had his face burning. There was something a bit too intense at being her sole focus, something that felt unsettlingly like attraction even though he knew it couldn't be. "Why Hakuba, are you offering to pay in his stead? How noble."

He snapped attention back to Koizumi's eyes belatedly aware that his focus had been drifting. She was too amused. Entirely too calm and in control. Focus, Saguru reminded himself. Kuroba needed something from her, and that something would help Kuroba finally be free from the shadows looming over him. Saguru wet his lips. "I am offering. I get the feeling that Kuroba has been racking up too many debts lately."

"Hmm. You're not wrong. I'll help you."

"And what will it cost me?"

"You should really ask that before you make a bargain, detective." She leaned back and some of that intensity dimmed. Whatever had been clouding his mind cleared some too, and Saguru was struck with the feeling that he was sitting across from someone very dangerous. Someone he should have asked more questions of before making a bargain, undoubtedly.

"...what did it cost Kuroba?"

Koizumi's grin got wider and she...held out a photo from the desk? Saguru took it from her and it took him a moment to process it. Koizumi was in the picture, flanked by two identical girls who could only be her daughters. The way they held themselves, the reddish tint to their hair, their smiles eerily similar to Koizumi's own... But their hair was messier than Koizumi's straight hair, a bit of curl and cowlicks to it, and their eyes were closer to violet than the reddish brown of Koizumi's. Then there was their facial structure... He passed the picture back.

"You and Kuroba...?" Saguru asked, trying and failing to keep his tone neutral.

"Don't look so scandalized." Koizumi returned the picture to her desk. "I needed a child and he was willing to give me one. I lucked out with two." She gave a mock sigh. "I sadly couldn't get him to agree to his body in the bargain, but we both got what we needed out of the arrangement."

Oh thank goodness. He felt a little better knowing Kuroba hadn't actually sold Koizumi his body in whatever their last bargain had been. Though that still didn't explain why Koizumi wanted that from Kuroba or why Kuroba would be willing to pay such a price. To be honest, it didn't explain anything really and he hated feeling like he was in the dark. Koizumi wanted a child, but didn't want to be tied down, but she'd wanted Kuroba to be the father because of her high school obsession? And Kuroba agreed because he needed her connections? For Kuroba who valued family and paternal ties, it didn't seem like the sort of bargain he'd ever have agreed to. "What will it cost me for your assistance?" Saguru asked again.

Koizumi's grin settled into something with less teeth if no less smugness. She waved a hand. "Nothing tangible. The costs will even out on their own, and you'll see soon enough."

There was being vague and then there was deflecting, and he'd had too much of it from both Kuroba and Koizumi. "Koizumi-san, what are we exchanging?"

"Things you wouldn't believe in if I told you, Hakuba-kun." Her smile dimmed. For the first time, she looked serious, straightening and uncrossing her legs. "Don't worry, Kuroba will live through this. I could hardly lose him now after investing so many years into his wellbeing."

'Investing,' she said, like Kuroba was stock in a trade market. Like she was still getting something out of this bargain besides the children she'd shown him. Things Saguru wouldn't believe in, hmm? Saguru closed his eyes for a moment. Kuroba had called her a witch before. In high school and recently, and it had never been something she'd refuted. Magic wasn't possible and witches didn't exist, but if they did... Well, Saguru could believe she'd be one. There was something unnatural about her and there always had been. "How did you help him before?" he asked.

"I removed the connection between 'Kid' and 'Kuroba' so to speak," Koizumi said, still serious. "Of course that sort of thing is a stop gap. It doesn't work if you know for sure."

He wanted to ask for clarification, but he had the feeling he wouldn't like any response he got. "And is that what you're doing now?"

"A bit late for that," she said. "I can still keep his family out of it, but it would take something big to cut off 'Kuroba' from 'Kid' again." Koizumi held out a hand imperiously. "Your hand."

Saguru gave her hand the same sort of look he'd give a possibly poisonous snake, but he put his hand in hers.

"Hmm." Koizumi turned it over, looking at his palm for a moment. The hair on the back of Saguru's neck stood up and he resisted the urge to yank his hand free and wipe it off on his shirt. Out of seemingly nowhere, she jabbed a pin into his thumb.

"Ow! What the bleeding hell, Koizumi?!"

Her grip was strong enough that he couldn't pull his hand back. Instead, he could only stare as blood oozed up from the stab wound. Koizumi pulled a slip of cream colored paper from her pocket and collected the blood on it in a smear before letting him go. Saguru curled his hand against his chest. He certainly wouldn't be offering it to her again in the future.

"Did you get what you needed?" he asked, letting his displeasure bleed into his tone.

Koizumi hummed again, folded the paper in half, and slid it back into her pocket. "Yes, I think that will do. You'll be able to pay for Kuroba's request, and you probably won't even notice the difference at first once I take my payment."

"You still haven't said what that payment is or what it's paying for."

"Think of it this way. Kuroba gave me an heir, a future, and the lack of direct familial bond with my daughters in payment in addition to a few other things over the years. He got vitality, luck, and a better hidden identity in return." Koizumi tapped a crimson painted fingernail against her lips. "I could take luck from you, memory, health, emotion—but you're doing this for Kuroba, and I don't want to disadvantage what you're doing. So I'm taking your invisibility and with it your reputation." She tilted her head. "You won't be able to go back to the quiet life you've had in Japan so far. But I think you won't want to much longer anyway. You are a detective after all. You were outed by a reporter, and that is never going to leave public eye now. It will be part of how the public defines you for the rest of your life."

"It would have anyway."

Koizumi shrugged. "It might have, it might not have. You paid with the possibility of that happening vanishing."

Saguru opened his mouth, closed it. Every line of Koizumi's face said she believed what she was saying. That Kuroba sent him here meant he believed it as well. They were speaking of impossibilities and intangibilities, but Saguru supposed it didn't matter if these things were real or not. If they were, then Koizumi might very well boost their chances of success. If not, then what did Saguru lose? A few drops of blood and a bit of time, but gained peace of mind for Kuroba's superstitious side. He'd pay more than blood for Kuroba's peace of mind. "Fine. Are we done here?"

Koizumi snorted. She stood and walked to a filing cabinet to pull out a thick file. "Give this to Kuroba or use it yourself. It's the most recent news I've gathered."

Saguru stood to take it, careful to keep out of grabbing range. He didn't quite trust her not to stab him with another pin. He glanced at the contents and found it full of pictures and names with brief information next to each one. Not enough to build a full case on unlike Kuroba's files, but enough to start an investigation. He recognized a few faces from the heist at the museum.

"They're recruiting more heavily," Koizumi said. "They're getting desperate and it's making them sloppy."

"What do any of these people have to gain joining them?" he murmured.

"Promise of power?" Koizumi shrugged. "I think it's more likely they get people by blackmailing though. I'm sure there are plenty of people on the police force trying to escape something in their past. Or have something questionable in their habits. Or their family." She smirked. "Really, it's a wonder they never got Aoko-chan."

"She'd never agree."

"No," Koizumi said, "she wouldn't. It would have been funny to see them try though."

Clearly Koizumi's sense of humor had little in common with Saguru's own. Saguru tucked the file under his arm. "Thank you for your assistance, Koizumi-san."

"So formal." Koizumi quirked an eyebrow at him. "You could stay longer. Catch up."

Was there something suggestive in how she said that or was it all in Saguru's head? Her body language wasn't implicitly flirtatious, but then Koizumi didn't need to be to make something appear suggestive. He shook his head, backing subtly for the door. He grabbed his cane as soon as it was in reach. "No thank you, I am sure we are both very busy people, Koizumi-san."

"Of course, Hakuba." She laughed at him silently, eyes glittering. "You will have to visit again sometime, perhaps with Kuroba. You could meet my daughters."

Any daughter of Koizumi was sure to be formidable. Add Kuroba's chaotic bloodline into the mix... He could perhaps see why Koizumi would want Kuroba's genetics. The children were probably terrifying. "Another time."

Her teeth glinted white, a real smile instead of the predatory ones she kept sending his way. Good to know his discomfort amused her. "Best of luck with your task, Hakuba," Koizumi said, resettling into the chair she'd been in when Saguru got there. "Happy hunting."

Saguru took the dismissal, saying something in return that he hoped had at least sounded polite. The butler that had shown him into the room was waiting to escort him out. Saguru was more than happy to leave Koizumi and her mansion behind him.

*o*o*

"In the future," Saguru said, "you deal with Koizumi-san."

Kuroba paused where he was carefully stretching his arms in simple exercises. He was already working to regain his mobility in them at an almost frightening rate of healing. "I take it your conversation went that badly?"

Saguru sunk into the bedside chair, shivering at the remembered feeling of Koizumi's eyes on him. "Oh, the discussion went well. I have information and a promise that the bargain will go through, whatever that entails." He pursed his lips. He never had manage to get all of the details. Koizumi had likely been extra unnerving in order to keep him as in the dark as possible. "However, Koizumi-san is even more unsettling than she was in high school, and I had the distinct impression that I would be toyed with like a cat torments a mouse if I let my guard down for a moment."

"Aah, Akako-hime is like that," Kuroba said, relaxing. "She doesn't have any reason to torment you though."

"How reassuring."

Kuroba snorted. He made a slow rotation of his shoulder, only a mild grimace on his face as it pulled on muscles abused by his fall and his shoulder's dislocation. "No worries. You shouldn't have to see her again. I only ever visit when I have to."

"Even though you're the father of her daughters?" Saguru asked. He took a small satisfaction in how Kuroba flinched.

"Should have guessed she'd bring that up," he muttered. He moved on to flexing his hands. "Yeah, the twins. I'm more of a sperm donor than anything. Akako-chan didn't want me to be much more than that, though I'm technically their next of kin if anything happened to her and I send them birthday and new year's gifts." He sighed. "To be honest, the few times we've met they've been sort of Akako clones, and eeeh. I'm sure they have their own personalities under what she's taught them, but it's pretty unnerving. They send a letter every now and again so I know a bit about their life, and that's all the more interest they seem to have of me."

"That must be hard."

"I've had time to get used to it." There wasn't any regret that Saguru could see in Kuroba's posture or tone. He truly believed it to be an equal exchange and a worthwhile one. Hmm.

Saguru leaned back in the chair and watched Kuroba test his bruised ribs by rotating his torso. There was a definite grimace on his face. "I imagine Aoko would be upset if she knew."

Kuroba blanched. "Hell, I'm not ever telling her if I can help it. I don't care if it was after we were divorced, she'd still skin me for it."

"And Takumi-kun would join her no doubt."

Kuroba winced and stopped stretching. "Yeah...yeah...that. Wouldn't go over well after all the other secrets."

"What's done is done though. Either they will learn one day or they won't." Saguru pulled out the file Koizumi had given him and tossed it on Kuroba's lap.

Kuroba opened it gingerly. "Oh. Wow, she works fast. These would be the officers complicit with the bombing at the last heist. And the ones we'd want to watch when we bait the trap."

"Exactly."

"Then you're really going to do it soon." Kuroba stared down at the folder in his hands like he was seeing through it and looking at something he desperately wanted to be real. "Trigger the trap."

"Yes." Kuroba looked so far away that Saguru had to reach out. His fingers brushed scar-marred skin on Kuroba's arm. Kuroba turned his unseeing eyes in Saguru's direction, taking a moment to focus. "We'll catch them, Kuroba." Hot, angry, vicious certainty filled him. One way or another, Saguru would make that statement true.

"It doesn't feel possible," Kuroba said. He looked at Saguru's hand on his arm like it was a particularly complex puzzle. "I'm always running by the skin of my teeth and they've always been in the shadows, waiting to catch my heels. I've been Kid longer than I've not been Kid."

"I know." Saguru's thumb brushed along Kuroba's arm, soothing, and he wanted to—to curl around Kuroba, protect him, hold him close and keep the doubts at bay. Kuroba was only a friend, though, and this was Japan. He was already abnormally touchy with Kuroba as it was. "If I have any power in building this future, I'll make it so that that isn't the case forever."

"Retire?" Kuroba said, a ghost of a smile on his face. "A phantom thief never retires."

"No, they become urban legends for decades to come." Saguru followed the scars up to the fresher ones on Kuroba's face, no longer painful, but still pink and raw looking. Kuroba didn't pull away, looked back at him like there was nothing else in the world at this moment. Like Saguru's words had weight to them. "You'll get that future, Kuroba."

"And I suppose you'll still be teaching in that future, the two of us becoming old men with too many secrets."

"Maybe." Saguru should pull his hand away. He didn't. "I might stick around to see you gain a few gray hairs."

"Only a few?" Kuroba sounded teasing, but his eyes were so serious, asking a question Saguru wasn't sure of let alone how to answer it.

"I'm sure you'd love to see me go bald. Both my grandfathers kept their hair though; it would be a long wait." Saguru was only half aware of what he was saying. He just wanted to wipe that lingering uncertainty and worry from Kuroba's face, like he wished his touch could wipe away the scars the years had left.

"If you plan to stay that long," Kuroba said.

Did he plan to? He had no plans beyond removing the threat to Kuroba's life. No plans beyond this teaching year. If Kuroba wanted him here, he could stay. If Kuroba wanted him, there was very little that could keep him away. "I..."

They both jumped as Saguru's phone rang, the volume set on loud from earlier that day when Saguru had been worried he'd miss a phone call. Kuroba's face left his fingertips as Kuroba finally pulled away. The words on Saguru's tongue died. He wanted to call the moment back and promise he'd stay as long as Kuroba kept wanting him to be there, but there were too many important things going on to ignore a phone call.

It was Millard. "Hello?" As he answered, Kuroba repositioned himself on his bed, settling back to eavesdrop shamelessly. That was fine; anything Millard had to say was bound to be connected to Kuroba's case anyway.

"Saguru, good, you have time to talk?" Millard was rushed, distracted sounding. Saguru could hear the sound of rain hitting metal—the roof of a car?

"Yes. You have news?"

"Found some suspicious edits and missing casefiles for some cases. All ones that've involved places on the list you sent. Asked around a bit too, careful-like though. I'm starting to get your old paranoia," he said with what was supposed to be a laugh, but too strained to really be one. It was both from stress, and due to fact that the paranoia in question hadn't appeared until Saguru had been investigating Mel's death. He hadn't been in a good place then. "You were right about things not adding up. Hans Yemen has a few cases where conclusive evidence was never found attached with those companies, and the missing bullet casings from Mel's case... Well, might not have been missing if ya get my drift. I did some digging and found a digital file sent by one of the officers that did the initial write up and it didn't match the one on file."

Saguru let out a slow breath. "I see." He wouldn't get his hopes up, couldn't dare hope that they'd get some sort of justice for Mel because if he was let down again this time, he wasn't sure what he'd feel. Kuroba's eyes were too knowing on him. "That's something tangible at least. Not enough to make a case of in itself, but..."

"Something," Millard agreed. "Jones and McLuhan are in with me. Jones works in cataloging so she's found a bit. It's keeping this all quiet that's been hard. You can't root around in your own yard long before your neighbor notices, y'know?" He sighed and there was the hazy sound of rain for a long moment. "I'll be upfront. Don't know if we'll get the person that shot Mel, but I think we can at least get the people who covered it up and maybe even the people who hired the one who shot him. This isn't going to make us any friends here, but it's the right thing and I won't let this go until I've seen it through."

Saguru had a vivid recollection of two years ago, Mel and Millard drunkenly arguing over reality television in the London apartment living room, trying to get Saguru to commit to one of their sides despite his not having any interest in reality television. Millard gave a speech at Mel's funeral, but Saguru had barely heard it. There was a heavy mix of the now-familiar pain of loss mixed in with grateful fondness. Why had it been so easy to forget that others hurt too? "Thank you, Millard. I know you will."

"Right," Millard said, gruffer, pushing away the sentimentality from a moment ago. "McLuhan wanted me to pass along that you're invited to her usual Christmas party still, and that you're to call sometime."

"And those are the words she used? There isn't enough profanity."

"Well, she said you're a right prat for cutting us out and if your head's out of your ass now, you're welcome to come back anytime," Millard said.

Saguru snorted. That she'd cared to offer after some of the things he'd said... "Still not enough profanity," Saguru said, "and I am not likely to be on that side of the world for the holidays, but pass along my thanks for the offer."

"Can do. Best of luck on your end."

"Same to you."

Millard disconnected the call. Saguru ignored the prickling of his eyes. If he pretended, maybe it would stop.

"Sounds like good friends," Kuroba commented.

Saguru blinked hard to clear his eyes. Kuroba hadn't moved, though he was staring with more intensity than he had at the start of the call. "I suppose so. I hadn't thought I still had the right to call them that."

"That's friends though," Kuroba said. "They don't let you shove them away easily."

And yet who did Kuroba have? His coworkers? In the strangest of roundabout ways, Aoko and Kudo? Koizumi? He had Saguru now though. And Saguru didn't just have Kuroba anymore. "We don't," Saguru agreed. "So don't think you'll be rid of me anytime soon." It was segue enough to continue their unfinished conversation. "I don't plan to go anywhere, Kuroba."

"Not even to London for Christmas?"

"While McLuhan's Christmas parties are notorious for their revelry, I think I'd rather stay here." Saguru offered a smile. "I'll go to London at some point, but I don't think I will stay any longer than I need to in settling things I left undone."

"I thought you weren't sure what you had planned in the future."

"I was." Saguru placed a hand close to Kuroba's own; close enough to imply intimacy, but not so close that it crossed that fine line he was skirting around so often lately. "I'm still not certain how long I will stay teaching or what path I'll take, but I think it will remain in Japan from here on out."

"You know," Kuroba said his own hand just a bit too far from Saguru's to feel its warmth, "I almost thought that this would scare you away." He gestured with his left hand to the scars and his leg brace.

"It would have," Saguru said honestly, "except you lived."

*o*o*

There were not enough hours in the day. Since the trap plan had been solidified, Saguru had barely had a chance to rest between seeing Koizumi, contacting officers Kudo and Aoko trusted—and who were not on any of Kuroba's lists—and putting Kuroba's evidence into an order that would be more easily accessed for any possible eventuality to come out of this. He was seeing names and faces of individuals he had never met in his sleep, and one the closer it came to time, the more often these dreams were interspersed with memories and modifications of Kuroba's injuries.

Kudo would play Kid. For all that Takumi had argued and debated, none of them were going to let him be bait for a criminal organization that had proven to be lethal. Saguru had covered logistics with Kudo, building up the perimeter and potential angles the threat could arrive from as tightly as if they were dealing with a Kid heist proper—more so even, because there was lethal potential if they made a mistake here that Kid's heists didn't hold.

It all centered around the stone that Kuroba had hidden. Unfortunately Kuroba refused to give its exact hiding place away, requiring yet another decoy. While he understood that the risk of losing the object he'd been trying to find for years was a very real concern to Kuroba, it added one more possibility of the whole operation being seen for what it was, a trap that might not even be sprung.

Now Saguru sat in an office building on the fifth floor, just high enough that he had a decent view of the museum and its surroundings. They had people all around the area, and it had been so hard to push this through official channels without alerting anyone they didn't want to know. It had been passing documents literally hand to hand in secret like some sort of shady deal. It would all be worth it if things worked out right. Kudo's international contacts would be watching air traffic to try and spot runners after this. But first they had to have their trap work.

It felt wrong watching Kudo moving around in Kid's gear—a spare suit that Saguru had gotten from Kuroba's hidden room. Kudo didn't have quite the same fluidity or presence. He was trying, but Kuroba had been Kid for almost two decades and it was hard to match that many years of practice. Kudo made his best attempt. He strolled onto the rooftop like he belonged there, going for the agreed upon spot where he'd 'produce' the fake stone from an air vent. He was there and vulnerable and could be shot at any moment if things went wrong. In the first rule of things involving Kid, something would always go wrong.

"Nothing yet," Kudo said over the headset. "Maybe they're waiting for something flashy?"

"Don't crack jokes," Aoko snapped back.

"It was only half a joke. Maybe they're waiting for a neon sign with Kid declaring he's back from the dead. I mean he is known for his large statements."

Kudo pulled out the stone with a flourish. Overdone in Saguru's opinion, but Kudo didn't have the dexterity to vanish it the way Kuroba could. Kuroba must be going crazy at the Kudo manor knowing this was going on. "Still nothing on my end," Saguru said. There were a few pedestrians in the area, common enough despite the late hour. They'd left a restaurant, and another appeared to be a businessman who'd stayed late. No telltale glint from nearby windows. No figures that he could see with his binoculars lurking on rooftops or obvious open windows that a shot might come from. Over the headset, there were negatives from the rest of the group. Fewer people than the last heist, but a tighter crew. Kudo was moving to leave now, making one last show of looking at the gem in faint moonlight. Nothing.

Breath hissed between Saguru's teeth. There were always other ways, slower ways, but...

A startled sound echoed over the headset.

"What?" Aoko snapped.

"Kaitou Kid," a voice said—Takagi? Shiratori? Saguru was less acquainted with Kudo's police friends—"in the air! He's landing on the office building across from the museum!"

"Shit." A double. Threat or...? Saguru tossed his binoculars aside. That was his building Kid was landing on, and he was only two floors away from the roof. "I am proceeding to the location," Saguru said over the headset.

In his ear, Aoko's tinny swears overlapped with other voices in a mishmash of babble that he didn't bother trying to parse. He had his cane and two sets of stairs to tackle, but it didn't take much time at all to reach the top with his heart hammering to press him on faster, faster. The roof door banged against the wall with the force he shoved against it. Saguru panted for breath as the white suited figure turned, monocle obscuring one eye.

Too short, suit too big, nervous body language—he could have been looking at Kuroba when Saguru first met him as Kid all over again. Wind made his cape billow with the same lucky chance for dramatics Kuroba always seemed to have. One hand tilted the brim of the top hat low to shadow his face, but Saguru didn't have to see his face to know that it was Takumi.