A/N: There's a couple of minor Task Force OCs, and, yes, some fanfiction-heist tropes in this one. I hope you'll enjoy it regardless.
With regard to all of the concern about writing out dialect and readability in chapter 5, I've found a solution that should work, I just have to code it. Thank you to everyone that gave me feedback! Check the chapter in question on A03 around this time tomorrow (7 or 7:30 p.m. on 3/16/2016) to see what I figured out, if you're interested. The solution is now live; go to AO3 if you want to see it.
The only warning for this chapter is canon-typical violence, but I figured I'd throw it out there, just in case.
Chapter 7: Breath
The heist was going well, until it wasn't. Which, really, could've been the title of Ginzou's autobiography—if he ever bothered writing one. But, seriously, the heist had been going all right—sure, KID had the jewel, but he was right behind him and the Task Force had officers all over the roof, ready to tackle him if he made a move. Except, maybe ready was going a little too far. KID had swerved left, neatly dodging Kusakabe and Miura, and leapt off the roof. With a sharp snapping sound, his cape turned from loose waves into the flat, sharp-edged triangle of the hang-glider, and he'd taken off.
Nakamori had his walkie-talkie up to call in the helicopters when he saw the bullet hit.
It tore through the fabric of the glider, and then KID's upper body—chest or shoulder, it was hard to tell from a distance, but Ginzou was really friggin' hoping it was the shoulder. KID dropped like a stone, crashing into a rooftop a good six buildings away from them on his way down. He was a whitish splotch from their vantage point, but even from a distance, you could see red spreading across the tuxedo. D***.
Obviously they had to call 119—he knew someone in the city had rescue helicopters, though he couldn't remember if they belonged to the hospital or fire company and really couldn't be bothered with that detail right now. The bigger issue was whether whoever he called could outpace whoever had fired that bullet. Ginzou wasn't feeling too optimistic on that front.
The sheer frustration of the situation turned his stomach. Was that really all he could do? Watch from here while his quarry was helpless, out of reach, and about to be in the hands of an even worse criminal? KID was his to arrest, and he was going to bring him in alive, and in one piece.
Unless the bullet had already taken care of that for him. Don't think about that, Ginzou he thought, gritting his teeth.
"KID was only shot in the shoulder," Hakuba said matter-of-factly, from his side. "He may be unconscious, but he's not in immediate danger of his life from the injury."
Ginzou glanced at him, annoyed. "How do you know that?"
"I calculated the trajectory," Hakuba said. There was something…off, in his expression. He was focused, but it wasn't the dog-on-a-scent intensity Ginzou had come to expect from him. It was steadier, and expectant, somehow.
So when Hakuba spoke again, he wasn't surprised.
"Sir, am I correct in assuming that you would be willing to entertain suggestions as to how to rescue KID before the shooter can reach him?" he asked.
"Yeah," Ginzou said, hand falling away from his cell phone. "You got something?"
Hakuba nodded, and began to, of all things, shrug off his suit-jacket. "But you have to promise me that you won't mention this in your reports."
"What's the plan, kid?" GInzou asked.
Having thrown his jacket to the ground, Hakuba began to loosen his tie. As he did, the top edge of that scar of his peeked out over his collar—which was pretty d*** appropriate, because Ginzou was starting to realize that the Saguru from that night in the locker room was who he was dealing with—not the Wolf of Europe, or the Task Force's eccentric high school detective, but the evasive, mysterious teenager he'd only caught one glimpse of.
After taking off the tie, Hakuba picked a small duffel bag up off of the ground and swung it over his shoulder. Ginzou'd seen the thing before, but never its contents—he had no idea what Hakuba kept in it or why he thought he might need it on heists, or to explain plans, for that matter.
Hakuba took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something.
"This is the plan," he said—and then he ran off across the rooftop, planted his hands firmly on Kariya's left shoulder, and used him to vault across the gap between the building they were on and the one next-closest to KID.
His landing looked practiced, and he came out of it into a sprint. Ginzou stared after him, dumbfounded.
"Did that just happen or did KID leave some weird gas around here?" Miura asked.
"Where the heck did he learn that?" Kusakabe demanded.
"What does he think he's gonna do?" Ginzou wondered aloud. "Does he think he's gonna carry KID? While he's doing that? HAKUBA-KUN, GET BACK HERE, THAT IS A S*** PLAN!" he shouted.
Hakuba, already four roofs away, gave no indication that he'd heard.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Kaito's vision swam the moment he opened his eyes. Except he was on a heist, which meant he wasn't Kaito, he was KID, and so the fact that everything hurt meant that this was more than the aftermath of an acrobatic prank gone wrong. So he needed to get conscious enough to take inventory of his injuries and get help.
He blinked a few times, and he could make out…roofing tiles. Not helpful, except to tell him that he probably shouldn't move while he was this out of it, in case he ended up maneuvering himself straight into a vertical drop.
He remembered some of the heist, he knew he had the jewel…and…oh. He'd gotten shot. Crap. Now that he thought about it, the shoulder pain did feel a lot worse than everything else. Yep, tender and raw and burning with pain, as opposed to the rest of him, which just generally felt like a bruise ready to happen. That would probably be from the crash.
Okay, new problem. If he had a shoulder injury and everything else ached bad enough that he wasn't sure he'd be willing to take the entire cost of the jewel in his pocket in exchange for moving, how, exactly, was he gonna get out of here? Particularly before the person that shot him or the Task Force got here. Especially before both of them ended up here, because like heck was Kaito going to be the reason that Nakamori met up with the people after him face to face.
He heard faint yelling in the distance, speaking of Nakamori. Panicking, he tried to get up, and in doing so, put some weight on his shoulder. The effects of his mistake were pretty much immediate. He lost track of Nakamori's voice in the ensuing wave of overwhelming pain, and by the time his vision wasn't grey again, everything was quiet except for the sound of footsteps too light to be Nakamori's.
Actually, if he took a few deep breaths to control the remainder of the pain and concentrated, he knew those steps. "Tantei -san," he greeted, but the words came out as a half-choked croak.
Not much better than Nakamori, really, but there was at least a chance that Hakuba would see this as against the rules of their rivalry and choose not to take advantage.
"I'm not here as your rival," Hakuba said. "I'm here to prevent your death, if possible. Are you conscious enough to inventory your injuries?"
"I am," Kaito said, wheezing. His lungs hurt. "I'm not certain I should trust you, though."
"That's proof that you're indeed awake," Hakuba observed. "I promise that I intend you no harm. You can either take my word or send me off and hope that you can move away from the sniper on your own power."
"I dislike my options," Kaito said.
"You're bleeding as we speak," Hakuba said, voice gaining an edge. "You lack the time to dislike your options. Choose."
"The bullet is in my shoulder," Kaito said. "Everything else feels bruised," he took a deep breath, trying not to let Poker Face slip as the movement made everything ache, "but nothing is broken."
"Good," Hakuba said. "I will require you to trust me, now."
"Trust you?" Kaito echoed. "For what?"
"Moving you will be difficult if you're conscious," Hakuba said.
Kaito did not panic. That would be silly, and unbefitting of a phantom thief. "And you—what? You have a sedative in your Inverness?"
"If you were in a condition to look up you'd see that I have one of your sleeping-gas bombs," Hakuba corrected lightly.
Kaito laughed—and then stopped laughing very quickly, because laughing hurt. "Those don't work on me anymore; I built up a resistance."
"Perhaps when you have normal blood oxygenation," Hakuba replied.
A gunshot sounded, and this time, Kaito did panic. "H-Tantei-san?"
"I'm not hit," Hakuba said lowly, his voice suddenly closer—he must have ducked. "But the longer we remain here, talking—"
"Do it," Kaito said softly, swallowing. If he woke up in a jail cell at least Hakuba would probably be alive on the other side of the bars.
"When you wake you will be alive and outside of police custody, I promise," Hakuba said, just as quietly.
"You can't promise—" Kaito started, as pink smoke filled his vision.
"I really think I can," Hakuba replied, as a soft thump signaled him jumping back. "Tonight follows KID's rules. No one will get hurt."
So he is Creepy Mystery Friend, Kaito thought, as the pink smoke went all swirly and the throbbing pain in his shoulder started feeling oddly distant. Figures. But—how'd he get one of the pink smoke bombs, and how'd he get over to this roof anyhow—
Kaito felt himself go limp, and the pink swirled away into rapidly encroaching darkness.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Chikage, once again dressed as Corbeau, watched from a nearby roof as Hakuba disengaged the glider and gathered her unconscious son up in his arms. She'd wanted to go to him, the moment he was hit, but she could see the sniper from her vantage point and whoever it was, presumably Jackal, had her very effectively pinned. If she so much as moved, she'd be visible to them as well, and then nothing more than another dead body for either her son or Ginzou to find.
So, instead, she was reduced to spectator as a boy she didn't understand quite literally held her child's life in his hands. Kaito's blood was already starting to spread across Hakuba's shirt as he stood, carefully adjusting Kaito's weight in his arms. The night wind blew his thick bangs into his eyes in a way that made his already indistinct expression even harder to read.
"I know you're watching, Kuroba-san," he announced. "If I create a diversion, will you take him to somewhere he can be treated for his injuries?"
"I don't know what you're—" Chikage started, unwilling to admit her identity to the detective, but he cut her off.
"Now is not the time!" he all but shouted, now turning to face her exact location. "Your son has been shot in the shoulder; the Kevlar in the suit doesn't cover that. And even if he didn't feel internal bleeding…he could still have some. He could still die. I'm not entirely sure he believed me, when I promised not to turn him in—are you as stubborn?"
"He is more familiar with you—perhaps he knows best," Chikage said.
"I tire of these games," Hakuba said, scowling. "I lack the medical knowledge to treat him myself, and if I take him to the hospital now, people will know he's KID. If you treat him or take him there, his identity remains intact. Will you help me, or not?"
"I will help, but if you betray either of us…" she trailed off suggestively.
"I have more reason than you know never to do that," Hakuba replied. With that, he leapt across the rooftops toward her, carrying Kaito as if he weighed very little—which, while Kaito was in full costume, was far from the case. The hang-glider and cape together added a good deal of weight to Kaito's already somewhat-muscular form—even with the height difference, he had to weigh as much as Hakuba at least in uniform. So how could the other boy carry him?
When he reached the rooftop Chikage had hidden herself on, he set Kaito down and caught her eyes. "I'm certain you can fabricate an explanation for his injuries."
"I don't know him as a civilian," Chikage said flatly.
"You are at least related, for all that you spend little time together," Hakuba corrected, glaring. "Ma'am, we don't have time for this."
"You are a detective, I can't just tell—"
"I already know!" Hakuba interrupted. "The portrait with a room behind it, Pandora, the fact that the clover on the monocle is a ridiculous pun—I know all of it. So just stop. For all my chasing, I haven't arrested him yet, and I don't plan to do so in the future, either."
Chikage stared at him, dumbfounded. "You—what?"
"I've known all along, thank you, so your foolish insistence on keeping secrets is doing nothing except worsening your son's condition," Hakuba said. "Now take him and leave!"
"If you already know, if you aren't going to arrest him, then why did you chase him?" Chikage asked. "I can't just—this is his life, you're asking me to trust you—"
"I have my reasons, but they're a bit complex to explain in the time we have," Hakuba said. "The sniper is still here. I find being shot unpleasant, don't you?"
"I've never tried it, actually," Chikage replied, slipping into banter without meaning to.
"I wouldn't recommend it," Hakuba said flatly. "I'm sure KID will concur. Now, get him somewhere where he can be treated. I'm sure you can find a way to explain his injuries."
Chikage nodded. "What will you tell the Inspector about all of this?"
"That KID was less injured than I thought, and attacked me as I was attempting to rescue him," Hakuba said, matter-of-fact. "I'll be found later, disoriented, with little memory of what passed on the rooftops."
"Do you really think you'll be believed, when no one sees a hang-glider leaving the scene?" Chikage asked.
"I wouldn't be, if that was what happened," Hakuba agreed, absently taking his pocket-watch out of his pocket. He flicked off the cover, the movement almost too fast to track, and Chikage found herself wondering when he'd gotten so skilled with his hands.
"You concern yourself with that KID," he continued, gesturing toward Kaito with the hand that wasn't holding the watch. "I'll take care of the one the Task Force is chasing this evening."
"The KID the Task Force will be chasing?" Chikage asked, blinking. "What on earth are you talking about?"
Hakuba's hand twitched, and the watch swung on its chain, the glass catching the full moon's light and sending daylight-brilliant glare directly into her eyes—and when her vision cleared, he wasn't wearing his half-cast-off suit anymore. A suit, yes, but not his suit.
Familiar folds of white fabric billowed around his shoulders, a red tie fastened at his throat over a blue collared shirt. A monocle glinted over his eye, the clover charm that dangled from it blowing in the wind. Though his hair remained brownish-blond rather than black, his face matched the outfit—not quite young enough to be Kaito's, or old enough for Toichi's, but rather something in between, a face in its early twenties that was a clean-shaven, rounder version of what Toichi had been…or perhaps a prediction of what Kaito might one day be?
Chikage huffed. "You aren't fit to wear that," she said flatly.
Hakuba offered her a faint smile. "I never was," he said, before running off across the rooftops as if he'd been born to KID's role.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
What is as light as a feather, but no one can hold it for more than a minute? Breath.
-Source unknown
A/N: And at this point I'm just flat-out curious as to what you think is going on. Feel free to leave a review with a guess, speculation, or demands that I explain what the heck is happening. (Don't worry, I will-the next chapter is the last, and at least some of the questions will be answered before the sequel...)
I'm still on Tumblr as ninthfeather, and the fic's still under the "riddle in reverse" tag.