Sound in Wind and Limb
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Gosho Aoyama, honorable creator of Detective Conan and Magic Kaito.
AN: Anybody willing to beta this?
For your information: the events in this second installment take place on the day of the 29.10.!
Vocabulary issues: Gomen = short, informal form of "Gomen nasai", meaning "Sorry".
Warning: a lot of introspection, thinking and overly descriptive language. Anybody who doesn't like reading that a lot, consider yourself warned! ;_D Also: beware of slight Spoilers for two of my fanfictions in this second chapter: they're called Tea, Anyone?, Letter To Myself and Roller Coaster Murder Case! And, because I just had to include them, any direct quotations from any of my other fanfictions will be written like this.
Also: I am SO messing with both Magic Kaito's and Detective Conan's timeline in this chapter… Please excuse any and all inconsistencies or problems that may arise; I am disregarding a whole bunch of the DC episodes, seeing as most of them are fillers, anyways, and others just don't fit into my scheme for this fanfiction. Seeing as it's only a couple chapters long, incorrigibly and absurdly finishing what I think should have happened long before now, I simply don't care at this moment in time. Maybe later on I'll correct the chapters – once I've found a willing beta and done Nanowrimo for this year, that is – and rewrite things, but as of now I've only just finished writing this fanfiction, am on the lookout (read: on the hunt) for anything even remotely resembling a beta-reader and am absolutely proud of myself for a) coming up with this in the first place, b) managing to get it put online on exactly the day on which I planned to do so and c) for writing it all out within a single month only. Kudos to me! (The real things, please!)
I sincerely thank you for your understanding and hope you enjoy it irregardless: now, please make yourself comfortable, take some previously-prepared fruit tea into your hands, add some deliciously sweet smelling cookies and fluff up your pillow once more: the story shall continue!
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Instead, when he moved a little ways away from whatever was dropped on his doorstep at this time of night, he saw that it was very different from what a rat looked like. It wasn't anything that he recognized as a kind of animal, either. "This is something else entirely, isn't it?" Kaito thought to himself quietly. What it was, though, he couldn't even begin to guess at, seeing as it was caked in shadow because he was blocking the light of the moon from shining onto it with his own body. Moving aside, he was quickly reduced to simply staring speechlessly and with an open mouth at what had been deposited in front of his door.
Now, this – this – he hadn't expected, at all.
A hand, five fingers and nails and everything, was lying innocently right in front of him on the floor leading up to the front door of his home. The only thing this hand was missing – which was the trigger that rendered the whole situation so very morbid and all the more eerie for it – was an attached arm and body.
To say that Kaito was confused would be a blatant understatement. A hand! There was a severed hand lying on his doorstep! He stared at the cut-off limb like it was the first time that he'd ever seen a hand in his life. The hand was… weird, to be honest. It seemed like a normal run-off-the-mill hand, if one could call it that. Goosebumps made their way all over his frame at the thought. It had been – as already stated – cut off at the wrist; though he wasn't looking at the stump's side from where he was standing. Instead, the fingers were pointing straight towards him in an almost unnatural way.
Frowning he thought about what struck him as odd about that hand after the initial shock of finding it on his doorstep (of all places possible!) had worn off. Bemused, he held up his own right hand to the light – for it was a right hand that was lying in front of him; the thumb was on its left side – to compare the two. Five fingers, yes, that kind of inventory he'd taken already. One whole hand, artery and vein blood vessels clearly visible underneath the pearly-white, pale fabric of skin that was stretched taut over the knuckles… there. That was wrong. Having been shocked out of his nightly routine preparations for going to sleep rather unwillingly, his brain was by then quite deliberately sluggish at responding to his queries.
The skin – that was what felt wrong to him the most. It was lying far too tightly across the hand, it almost seemed like someone had pulled an inflated balloon over the general outline of a hand – normal skin did not behave like this at all. Normal skin was formed, had little bulges and wrinkles where it fit snugly across the knuckles, muscles and tendons. It usually gave off the air of a real-life skin, for lack of a better word. That was why terms and collocations like "something fits like a second skin" existed. The type of skin he was facing, however, was most unnatural as it stretched over the internal build-up of the hand like the skin wanted to pull it into place. Instead of the skin being pliable, subject to the muscles', tendons' and bones' daily movement, here it appeared to have been the other way around.
Anybody with such a hand would not have been able to move it, let alone do anything manually. It would have felt as though the whole limb was paralyzed, stiff, rigid and – most probably – numb. Absurdly having gained courage from that thought, the teenager grew daring, kneeled down in front of the limb – which he by then knew (via scrutinizing the texture and noticing some make-up rests clinging to the "skin" in the pale moonlight and the light coming from his entryway where he shouldn't have found any) was a fake one, a stage prop most likely –, extended a finger towards it and lightly poked it. A shudder ran through him at the comparison that his mind drew up at the image that he was presented with upon touching the hand: it moved almost as though it was a toy, only-just not flopping over, but still twitching seemingly endlessly, even after his hand had moved away again. It was decidedly creepy.
With two fingers, he carefully picked up the eerily real-looking stage prop at the ring finger. No blood, nothing fluid came out of the… stump… where it had been "cut off", lending yet more (at this point rather unneeded) credence to its status as a fake. Gingerly, he transported it into the house, closing and locking the front door as he went. Almost in a trance, he went into the kitchen, switched on the light there once more and walked the few steps that separated him from the kitchen counter, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on the fake extremity that had infiltrated his life at this unholy hour.
Only when he put it down on the kitchen counter did he look up, turn around and chance yet another glance at the depressing directions of the hands of the analog clock hanging to the right of the door. He closed his eyes in determination, willing the hands to have moved backwards in a last instant of defiance. Opening them again, he could only conclude that for tonight he wouldn't be up for much more. Kaito didn't even want to start on the limb at that moment.
Shoulders sagging in exhaustion, the teenager switched off the light in the kitchen, dragged himself out into the entryway once more and slowly made his way upstairs. The bed would be an absolutely welcome sight at this point in time, he mused tiredly. He forewent the usual routine of brushing his teeth – he could always just do it in the morning if he felt like it –, put his alarm clock to the correct time (less than five hours later – where had his time run off to without informing him?) and switched off the light in both the hallway and his room; he'd find his bed in no time and without any visual aids, having lived here long enough, he knew. Unceremoniously, he then proceeded to haul his body there in a last effort and fall into bed, still wearing his school uniform. The teenage-thief didn't mind, however, seeing as he was asleep in a matter of seconds after his head hit the pillow.
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Naturally, Kaito got woken up at yet another unholy hour by his alarm clock; he was sure there was a theme in there somewhere… someone wanted to make fun of him out there somehow. Now, if he only could decide whom to blame for this, he'd be happy already. Stretching like a cat, a major yawn escaped him. Blearily, he opened his eyes. Everything came to him at once. He was skeptic though: surely Kaito must have been dreaming; a hand? Lying on his doorstep? Yeah, right. That was a hallucination, right there.
Kaito supposed that he should probably get up before his body decided that sleep would be a far better course of action right now. Not that his brain wasn't already staggeringly aware that it was. Sighing, he supposed that he'd always be able to get in a few more hours of sleep at school, if not in the afternoon – he cheered up immensely when he thought of the mysterious event that would continue occupying their school's premises for the day, meaning the pupils would be let out earlier than usual that day, as well. Ah, those adult seminars/congresses/conventions/conferences/whatever certainly had their perks!
Much more awake than a bare minute ago, he sat up in bed, locating his school satchel with his eyes. A grimace flitted across his face in a matter of seconds, there and gone again. That was correct. He'd still have to do his homework in the time that was left between now and the start of school for the day. Gee, and to think: he'd almost forgotten about that particular nuisance, too!
XXX
He was standing in the middle of his room when his phone beeped to signal an incoming text message. Usually, Aoko would pick him up at his house (which can be translated as kicking him out of bed more often than not) around fifteen to twenty minutes before school started. This was why, when he received a text message on his mobile about five minutes before she'd physically appear on his doorstep, he was rather confused to find out the SMS was from his long-haired childhood friend.
Standing in the middle of his room – he'd just finished and packed away his homework and books and was looking for a washed school uniform that he could wear that day – and holding his mobile phone in his hands, he was wearing a very baffled expression on his face. Why would she text him at (he snatched a weary look at the right hand upper corner of his mobile's display)… a time far too early in the morning? Moreover, what would she write him this bloody early in the morning?
Well, nothing was easier than to figure out the answer to this second question. Shifting his fingers, he one-handed commandeered the text message to be opened. A few moments later, he was perusing her writing with ever-growing curiosity.
Nakamori Aoko, 29.10., 08:37.
Kaito-kun,
I cannot come to pick you up
for school today. I have something
major to tell you and something
just as important to ask of you;
can we meet up sometime later?
Aoko.
Blinking, he reread the text in building consternation and befuddlement. She wasn't ill again, was she? No, she'd have explicitly stated it if she was, or at least given him a more obvious clue. Scanning the message once more, he started to wonder. His eyebrows drew together in the tender beginnings of a frown. Would it be useful in any way to get worried, now? No. This knowledge didn't exactly keep him from thinking about what might have – could have – happened, but if he caught himself asking how he could help her and imagining worst case scenarios that he'd deduced could have happened/could be happening from what little she'd sent him, there was no one stopping him from doing so.
Typing a quick text back (I'll come over at six) he regretted having to spend the afternoon revising his plans for the upcoming Kid heist the very next day. Yes, the evening preceding Halloween would belong to him; though he'd have preferred the late night of All Hallows Eve itself as date of choice for the heist, he'd already promised Aoko he'd accompany her to that stupid Policemen's Ball at eight in the evening of that very same day. His guilty conscience sometimes wouldn't shut up about all the other missed and delayed promises he'd made her already; in order to appease it he'd agreed – and he fully intended to keep this promise. It helped, that she'd just told him that her father had gotten a spare ticket; he wouldn't have to be her escort or entourage or anything of the sort, but could enjoy the evening together with his best friend. That didn't exclude him teasing her, naturally.
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When he arrived downstairs, school satchel in his left and his school uniform's jacket in his right hand, Kaito put both on the floor in the entryway, turning towards the kitchen to grab some last-minute breakfast about five to ten minutes after having received Aoko's SMS. Nevertheless, when he wanted to cross the threshold into the kitchen, he froze, realizing that he'd absolutely forgotten something that he'd wanted to find out more about just last night before going to sleep. Awww, and he'd so wanted that to have been in his dreams!
Making himself unfreeze nigh a moment later, he decided to tackle that particular mystery later – he was running slightly late by then and didn't have neither the patience nor the time to do anything more about it now. Hastily opening the sideboard cupboard and grabbing a piece of undone toast from the package, he ran off again, the cupboard's door falling shut in his wake. The teenager greedily shoved it in his mouth, lightly munching on it, as he darted out, snatched up his jacket and school bag and practically flew out the door, only barely managing to pause in his hectic scramble to close and lock the front door behind himself in a rare moment of early morning lucidity. And then he was off to school already.
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It was strange, he quietly mused to himself, what people could get used to if exposed to for long enough a time. The guy right in front of him kept twitching every so often, the girls diagonally behind him only barely refrained from giggling and the teacher was constantly throwing suspicious looks towards him that not only distracted the other pupils from the topic they were dealing with but were also slowly starting to weird Kaito out a little bit, to be honest. The whole class seemed to be sitting on needles, dancing around him as though he was an explosive missile that had somehow found its way into their classroom and would be set off at the least provocation. Everybody was on edge because normalcy was something they apparently wouldn't be subjected to during any of today's lessons. They all were nervous because the main actors for once didn't feel up to doing anything other than participate in the lessons and pay attention to the teachers. In general, the two for once behaved how the teachers most probably wanted them to behave all year, and yet this appeared to be the one thing nobody was really prepared for, coming from them.
Snorting, Kaito reckoned that this honestly did not come as a surprise to him. After all, he was the one that usually kept his classmates on their toes, pranking them and making their lives as interesting as he could. Thus it was no wonder that everyone excepting himself and a select few others was completely taken off-guard when he for once didn't do anything. No, their behavior certainly was predictable, sometimes.
What had astounded him and as a consequence puzzled him quite a bit, though, was the fact that one certain person was present that he'd frankly believed to be absent that day. Indeed he hadn't counted on Aoko gracing the class with her presence the very day that she'd told him she wouldn't be able to pick him up for school. Ah, not that he needed picking up to come to school (every once in a while). It was just that the stubborn girl had acquired the habit of doing so ever since he'd missed out a whole week of his schooling in Middle School, about half of which he'd skipped on purpose.
Now, Aoko had indeed come to school, as if she hadn't informed him that she couldn't come to school with him that day and in spite of everything pointing to the contrary. (she hadn't outright said anything about not being there that day, he had to concede grudgingly, it had only been his assumption; however, what other reason was there for her not to pick him up like normal and writing him a text message, instead?) As a consequence, Kaito thought himself very much justified in ignoring her.
Needless to say that him ignoring her led to one very calm day full of uninterrupted and fruitful lessons spanning out before a class whose members and teachers simply didn't know how to deal with that, funnily enough. In fact, they were downright overwhelmed with and some of them even scared because of the absence of chaos and mischief that was offered to them. In all honesty, it was a feat that no one thought he'd be able to ever achieve, making his own classmates this skittish around his quietness and silence. It showed everybody who cared that Kaito could easily run circles around people if he so chose. Nobody did care, fortunately for him.
Nonetheless, he'd still not been able to solve the mystery around his brown-haired childhood friend when break time rolled around. But unless she began talking to him, he wouldn't so much as look at her. And if he was literally acting like a kid this time, it didn't matter to him. Glancing at her frame out of the corner of his eye he absolutely couldn't fathom why she'd go this out of her way to talk to him privately.
As he was sitting on his chair, contemplating this, he was approached by a person that he'd had a just as tentative – even if far different – relationship with. Indeed, his link with Hakuba was quite the unusual one, as well. The latest developments between the two of them – especially concerning his alter ego – had certainly put the ground they were standing on under a lot of pressure. It was uncertain, unsure, where exactly they would be going with this, although it apparently wouldn't lead to him being locked up in prison any time soon. That only scratched out one possible outcome of this whole… tiptoeing around one another, however. Blinking, he noticed that the blond had long since halted in front of his desk, waiting to be acknowledged.
"What is it?" the sentence mayhap came out a little more gruffly than he'd intended for it to, with a deeper hue added to his own voice. It wasn't on purpose that he'd tried making himself sound older and more self-assured than he was when talking to the detective in a normal school setting. The change between them had been unsettling for him, too. Kaito wasn't usually the type of person who was against change. Well, not against the good kind of change, at least. But this… understanding-of-sorts that they'd come to had no fixed rules (yet) and the two of them hadn't technically arrived at it through any legal means, either. It didn't paint a good picture for their future interactions when he was the one who wasn't following the law that the other so obviously abided by. There was more of a chance of this backfiring on him than it there was for the sleuth to experience too many negative repercussions after something changed, once more. The part time thief was sure it would happen sometime soon, too: all the signs pointed towards their temporary truce to come to an end. And it kind of was included in the word, already: "temporary."
"I need your input for a case that I'm working on. I was told you were there when it happened." To Kaito, it was glaringly clear who'd provided him with the information. Eyebrows climbing upwards, the brunette regarded the other appraisingly, running several possible ways that their conversation could continue with, as well as all the cases he'd ever been involved with through his head at a speed unmatched by any runner. Which one did he mean? Intrigued, he indulged the blond and asked him when the detective didn't immediately go on.
"… And what would that case be about?"
"I cannot say." Shifting his eyes and letting them roam the classroom in a carefully controlled inconspicuous-looking once-over of the people in attendance, the detective made Kaito understand that he simply wouldn't say it in front of so many people all at once. A rueful grin stole over his face. It went without saying that he knew of all the wrong ears that could by chance pick up on the information and sell it to newspapers for good money, depending on the quality and quantity. He himself had prodded the idea of formulating his plans and/or writing them down during class with a stick and from a safe distance away because at the time he'd begun his moonlighting activities he hadn't known much about how High School pupils would handle it and if it could possibly lead to his downfall. Thus, he hadn't done more than draw abstract doodles into his note books and not ever taken any of his plans or various to-do-lists to school.
Not that he needed many of these, his memory was good enough that he could remember what he'd need to buy or set up for an upcoming heist without having to rely on a flimsy piece of paper and the easily-smudging ink of a pen to tell him. It was that he was thinking along these lines – and totally gotten off-track for anyone who cared to take record – when Hakuba went on, heedless of whatever the thief's response to that admission would have been. (Once he'd finally pulled himself out of those pesky, continuously-returning introspective thoughts)
"I'm sorry." Bringing a hand up to massage the side of his head, the standing teenager had a warring expression on his face. Kaito vaguely noticed that the sleuth had closed his eyes. (When had he done that?) When he opened them again, his hand moved downwards once more to rest by his side, drawing Kaito's eyes down with it for a brief moment, before he looked the other into the eyes once more, waiting for what followed that misplaced declaration. What was he sorry for?
"I – you, rather, - are invited to come to my place this afternoon, if you'd please. I really want to bring that case to a close sometime soon, but as of yesterday I am quite stuck, I'm afraid. I – this case, it is a very… personal one, one could say. If you could give me your testimony – nothing else, I swear – I'd be happy already. I don't need you to stay for longer than necessary, or if you don't want to do it at my house, that would be fine, as well, but I just can't think of a better place at the moment and-"
"Wait!" with this and an accompanying hand gesture slicing the plain air in-between them, he forcefully cut the detective off. Absent-mindedly he noticed that the other had worked himself up a lot, his eyes swiveling from one side to the other and almost letting the request develop into an outright rant (an entirely new thing to imagine, concerning who he was). The blond had never done so, never mind him being this flustered before, no matter what Kaito had done to him. Hakuba had never been this… nervous, almost. And it was in that exact moment he realized just why the Hakuba heir had worn such a bifid expression on his face bare seconds ago. The blond had actively tried to find a way out of this for him. He hadn't wanted to "corner" him – hadn't wanted to invite him to his home at all, it seemed – and yet, the only place possible for them to safely discuss whatever things that required them not to talk about them in "public" and not have anybody else listen in.
Naturally, Kaito knew just how good the ears walls had when nobody paid attention to them. One could be an expert at being covert and still be overheard in the most crucial moment by the one person they absolutely did not want to be overheard by. The Kuroba heir carefully evaluated his options. There was always the chance to refuse, claiming he'd have something else to do, or a date that he couldn't miss out on that day. The blond had even deliberately given him a way out of this, he could just say "no" without giving any reasons and it wouldn't appear too rude in this kind of situation. Nonetheless, he'd gotten curious.
Gee, his curiosity would be the dead of him one day. He'd never backed down from a challenge either, though, and he wouldn't start doing so now of all times. And walking into the house of the head of the Metropolitan Police Force – being invited to do so, of all things, even – definitely sounded like a challenge worth facing. "Bring it on!" he thought to himself. So it was with a decidedly ironic smirk that he agreed to the sleuth's plans.
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When school left out, he followed Hakuba, instead of going with Aoko– who was still ignoring him like he was so much hot air filling the space! –, breaking their tradition, and went right in lieu of taking the left once they were out of the school area. They went along quietly, each young adult lost in his own clutter of thoughts. What had he done wrong? Had he done something wrong, even? Why was Aoko behaving like this? Was he over thinking her actions? Was it him she was angry at? Was she even angry? She surely didn't exhibit any signs that implied this state of mind. Usually, when she was angry, she'd chase him – with a mob, a broom, anything long and with a thick end to it – and that was that. He'd avoid getting hit by her, maybe even let her hit him once or twice on purpose, and after a few of those, her anger would cool down to acceptable levels once more. Their classmates already put it down as "some kind of weird flirting technique" they employed whenever they did their routine, but it was far more than that to the two of them.
It was a way to calm down, a welcome outlet for the stress that had been building up before and also a way to work off their energy all at once. Heh. Trouble was brewing if she didn't chase him with a mob for once! Sighing, the junior magician knew that – without the brunette-haired girl – he wouldn't be getting anywhere anytime soon. Someone please instruct him the mysterious ways that girls worked!
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It certainly was a first for him, walking alongside a guy instead of Aoko, he mused. First off, they weren't talking – much. The few directions that the blond gave him every few corners didn't officially count as "talking". Or was that what the other thought of as "Small Talk"? If he was like that to everybody he'd invited to his house, the brown-haired boy knew why he didn't have too many friends in Japan, yet. A state of affairs that he'd decided to change, and soon. Everybody needed friends. Heck, if he didn't have Aoko, he knew he'd be out of the game that was life already! Just look at what a mess he'd been in those days in elementary school… No. Shaking his head, he resolved not to think about that, of all things, and ruin the mood – not that there was much of it in existence in the first place, but that was beside the point.
Well. Whatever was going through the other's head at that moment? Letting his bangs fall slightly into his face, he glanced at him from beneath them, thinking that it must be a very lonely life that the sleuth led. Did he ever talk to anybody other than him or Aoko at school? He'd certainly never seen him do so in all the time that he'd spent there already. Hakuba didn't initiate conversations. He talked back – in the worst sense of the words – whenever he was spoken to, but other than that… even while class was in session he'd never stick up his hand and give the answer before being called upon. Whenever he was called upon by any teacher there happened to be, he did give the correct answer, but he never volunteered them of his own accord.
That was weird, though. If he had all the correct answers, why would-? Kaito knew even before he'd finished that thought. It was exactly what he was doing nowadays: he wanted to avoid being the top of the class. The answers to his questions came to him a little bit after he'd started to think up those selfsame questions. But why? He probably didn't want to stick out and be called a nerd, an overachiever, by the other people in class. Not that that had kept him from being called a stuck-up twit by Kaito yet, but well. He did that to everyone, the amateur magician thought in the private confines of his mind. Kaito didn't discriminate between his (future) victims. At one point in time, everybody in class had been a victim of him and one of his pranks in one form or another.
Ah, the blond probably hadn't known that when he'd been targeted. That was a blind spot right there that he hadn't seen until he'd properly thought about it! Frowning, he attempted to remember that time. No, the blond hadn't talked to many people in their class when he'd arrived – only Aoko had been so bold as to almost immediately start a conversation with him. And well, everybody had seen what that had led to. With slanted eyes, Kaito promised to himself that he wouldn't ever let that happen/turn out like this ever again! Gee, if it had been up to him, the blond would have had something much worse than an injured pride to deal with. A grimace fleeted across his mouth, there and gone again.
Heh. It didn't do to dwell on the past far too much, as he was right then. Sighing, the dark-haired boy turned towards his avowed nemesis and/or co-conspirator in terms of Not Getting Caught. The other had stated it – implicitly, and even explicitly that one time – openly enough for him to pick up on it. That particular thread weaved through their conversations often enough: Hakuba wouldn't arrest him, at least not anytime soon and not during their tea sessions. So, what about them now? Would he keep his… promise? Would he continue the trend that he'd started? There was only one solution to the dilemma that Kaito was facing: No better way to go about finding out where they stood, in their civilian identities, than to outright ask him, right? So that was what he did.
"What exactly… is it that you do in your free time?" Ah, there went his chance. Really now, he should tell his mouth more often to consult with his brain. Whatever. Kaito could go with that, as well. It had the potential to lead somewhere new, after all. And it was an interesting thought, to be frank. What did the sleuth do in his free time – of which he had to have a lot to spare, Kaito thought rather more ruefully than he would have less than a year ago. After all, what did one do when one did not meet up with friends and/or spend one's time being social? The detective, apparently, took to solving murder cases, as he told him in his reply.
"Murders? Really?" was his incredulous exclamation, both eyebrows shooting up into his hairline in undisguised surprise. He got a detached-yet-somehow-outraged defensive look back for that. Kaito reckoned that that was the Hakuba heir's way of dealing with what he perceived as an indirect (or, not so indirect, as the thief realized in retrospect) attack on his person.
"What about me solving murders is it that you find this shocking?" he not-quite demanded to know. For his defense, he hadn't meant for it to sound this… dismissive. Disdainful, even. That condescending tone had stolen into his utterance without him even meaning for it to. It would have been appropriate for their day-to-day interaction at school, but right there on the street, when they were just as anonymous as the next person, he could decide to let his masks fall down and have a harmless, normal conversation with the blond. Unfortunately for both, this conscious "letting go of their masks and their habitually competitive arguments" was one very difficult thing to do, as the two of them had to learn the hard way.
Forcefully putting aside both his misguided anger (the other had only defended himself; he'd have done the same thing if their roles were reversed, so why was he angry?) and letting his cutting remark die on his tongue, the part time thief went about explaining what he'd meant; something he'd never yet had to do with anyone. Sometimes, the detective was exasperatingly irritating without even trying to be.
"No, I… didn't mean it like that. Gomen. It was just… you're already a detective, right?" The answering nod he got when he regarded the other was a cautious, hesitant one. He plunged on, "So you solve murder cases when you're asked to do so." Kaito was relieved when understanding slowly filled the sleuth's face like water did an amphora. The tension in their shoulders visibly receded, too, which was a definite plus in Kaito's book. No fighting was necessary to hold a conversation with the blond. He continued by asking a question that he was now majorly interested in,
"Why would you do this in your free time, too?" Hakuba's face didn't close up as he'd assumed it would. The slightly bigger teenager could have blocked his question, answered with one of his own or changed the topic entirely; he'd left the conversational lead up to him, trusting him to steer it into a direction that both of them would feel comfortable with. Implicitly, that meant he'd be ok with the blond teenager being something of a partner-of-sorts. An equal, if one wanted to call it that. Did that mean for him… that he'd found someone he trusted? A… new friend, even? Aoko would laugh him in the face, he knew, if he ever told her just whose hands he'd decided to put his… life into. Hadn't they fought like cats and dogs just the other day? He wasn't left with much more time as the other finally found an appropriate formulation for answering his question.
"I… have been doing this – solving cases, clearing up murders – ever since coming to Japan." Glancing up shortly from his continuous perusal of the floor in front of them as they walked down the walkway, he almost seemed to feel the need to clarify. "Also before I came here I found myself in the company of murder victims and the police more often than not. Ever since I found out that I have a penchant for bringing to light the truth about murders and arresting the murderers, I have taken on the role as a detective more by happenstance than because I really wanted to." Pensively the two teenagers beheld the Hakuba mansion – for it truly was quite the sight to see – that was coming up in front of them.
"… Force of circumstances doesn't quite cut it, does it?" Wryly amused, he quirked up the corner of his mouth that was on the detective's side a little in a sympathetic almost-smile while he supposed that for him everything had happened almost mirror-like to what had come to pass on the blond's side of things half a day's travel away on the other side of the globe. The irony of the situation certainly did not escape his notice. The two of them had more in common, he'd gradually found out over the course of the past half year, than what he'd at first believed for them to. They apparently shared far more than their mutually differing appearances led anybody to believe – themselves included.
The teenage detective glanced at him shortly, seemingly weighing his options to answer that softly-spoken statement that could be taken as a kind-of maybe admission on the moonlighting magician's part, before he decided to deign the other with a more sophisticated and far more welcome declaration that was testimony to their progressing relationship as well as their level of ease around one another.
"No. No, it doesn't."
XXX
Kaito was sitting in one of the comfortably cushioned light brown chairs of Hakuba's working room in the mansion's left side wing. Funnily enough, they completely went with the blond haired teenager's most-used color scheme: they matched his brownish outfits and blond hair to a T. Nevertheless, even though he found himself in a decidedly detective-y territory (he'd seen the well-used copies of Sherlock Holmes books resting snugly right beside some that had obviously never so much as been opened; was that plastic that they had been covered with on top of the usual book binding?), he'd already caught himself in the act of relaxing. After a moment of indecision, he finally resigned himself to feeling far more comfortable in such an environment than he should probably be entitled to, considering his nighttime activities and the small matter of their unspoken rivalry at school that appeared to miraculously diminish every time they met there.
As for what the sleuth wanted of him… he'd yet to figure that out. He'd been left to his own devices soon after the blond had shown him to the room and told him to "get comfortable" while the other had ambled off, presumably to both make some tea (British! Typical, really.) and go get the most relevant case-related files. It spoke volumes for the trust that the detective had in him. It also reminded him a bit of a cat leaving a mouse alone to roam the house freely while the cat prepared dinner. The thought made him smile. As a consequence, he didn't immediately notice the detective come to a halt in the door, ready to come in with the tablet that he'd put the tea pot and the cups, as well as two small A4-formatted files, on. When he finally did realize that he was being quietly observed, he beckoned the other in with his hands. Neither commented on that brief moment of silent observation, however. And when he was slowly making his way towards the small sitting table and the equally cushioned light brown chair on the right of the thief, Hakuba was wearing quite the puzzled expression, as if trying to figure out a riddle that required far more attention than what he was used to. Which, in turn, puzzled the amateur magician. Curiosity killed the cat.
"What's the matter?"
The face of the sleuth, however, just cleared in understanding. When he got a genuinely warm smile in lieu of a proper answer, he only got more confused. What was it that had occupied the detective's mind right then?
"Nothing much. I just realized. You like it here?" The last part was asked with an accompanying risen eyebrow. This was quickly growing to become a standard procedure between the two of them. Whenever one of them was asking a question, the other would respond with a raised eyebrow. Ready, set: go.
"… As a matter of fact, I do. Whatever gave you the impression?" The sleuth's way of speaking had to be catching. He'd spoken these words before he'd properly reflected on them; could this be counted as imitation? Then he'd probably just fulfilled the requirements to make the following statement true: Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Kaito didn't want to antagonize the blond again, after all.
"You don't have half as many walls up as you do at school." Picked up on that, had he now? Smirking wryly once more, the thief supposed he had to hand this round's win to the sleuth. It wasn't conceding defeat, just one "battle" lost. They weren't fighting, per say, not really anymore, ever since back then when the detective had tried that new method of getting closer to him at a heist. Not that it hadn't worked out in both their favor, he had to admit. Didn't it spoke volumes about how they faced each other now that they didn't descend into verbal lashing out at one another immediately upon meeting? One more thing that he… owed… the detective. He quite enjoyed the companionable silence that surrounded the two of them, engulfing both warmly in its atmosphere like a hug given by someone familiar. While the other carefully poured the tea, adding a lemon to his own and putting the sugar right beside Kaito's cup for easier reach, the invitee mused on his host's situation a little more, until he was brought back to earth by the sleuth's next sentence.
"The case that I wanted to discuss came to pass on the 13th of January. I was told that you'd been to Tropical Land that day." Yes, that sounded far too familiar to him. 13.01., January 13th. He'd had that heist less than a fortnight before that date, hadn't he? And Hakuba had transferred to their class in the middle of the year, during September of the year preceding that one, if he remembered correctly. He'd had to leave for Britain again during December, though, thus explaining why he hadn't known about what Kaito had been up to during January. Yes, that had been… close the end of December that he'd taken the flight, right? Or something the like, at least. The dates had started blurring a little around then, because he'd been juggling his nighttime job, Aoko's demand for "a little more" time spent together, the blond's appearance in their classes – and their consequent arguments, not the least about said long-haired girl –, Akako's sudden involvement in more than his school activities and the latest threat of having snipers at his heists. Gee, his life sure had a way of spicing up happenings for him, didn't it?
Instead of dissipating, though, the comfortable mood stayed in the room while he thought a little more about the date given to him. On the thirteenth of January… what had happened that day? He'd been to Tropical Land…? No joyous event was coming up when he thought about it. Wasn't that an amusement park? Had he gone there with Aoko? Why else would he go to an amusement park, if not à deux because his childhood friend had fancied going there…? The lack of anything even remotely resembling a happy day at an amusement park coming to mind did not help him in the least. Not a happy even then. Something to do with Kid?
Ah. There it was, the red thread connecting the amusement park with Kaitô Kid. At first, an innocent note stuck to his cape appeared in his mind's eye. "Cut your way through…" hadn't that been exactly what it had said? Unbidden, the whole text sprung right into his inner eye's vision. Yeah, that was probably what the detective wanted to know of him. Frowning, the magician-turned-thief regaled the other with a conflicted look, warring between two different options: to tell him or not to tell him, that was the big question. And if he told him, what would he leave out so as not to incriminate himself? Irregardless of their little truce, the fact was that he was not in any position to wield power over the other, never mind influence or control his thoughts, least of all his actions on the matter. He had to weigh carefully what he was going to say: if he so much as alluded to the fact that Kaitô Kid was involved, he felt more than thought that he'd not have too many minutes in freedom any more. All of a sudden, all the relaxation and ease escaped his muscles and he tensed up, on the verge of but-not-yet jumping right out of his seat and be on the hop like an almost-scared-off bunny. With the next few words coming out of his mouth, the sleuth would be deciding the fate of their tentative liaison, he knew. His classmate probably felt the tension suddenly having come back to him like a flow of energy that his feet had drawn from the floor.
The Hakuba heir opened his mouth once in an unspoken utterance that had all of a sudden been rendered uncertain, stripped off its innocence and suffused with a meaning that had been changed within the matter of the past few minutes. The bare surface of their tea was not disturbed, and yet… the jumpiness that all of a sudden enveloped the two enemies/allies was almost palpable within the air. Kaito was sure that if he'd dared open his mouth, he would have been able to taste and smell it, as well, in the most abstract sense that the word allowed. Intently, he'd fixed Hakuba with his gaze, tense and a tad anxious, even, not that he let anything show on his face or in his gestures. His mimic had reverted to a blank mask, a bare ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. His body language hadn't changed, either. And yet… The junior thief was dead certain that the detective knew of the importance of the words he'd choose to speak next.
"I… on the 13th of January, something happened close to a roller coaster called Mystery Ride." Yes, he could clearly recall the murder that had happened on the "5 o'clock detective's ride through darkness". That headless body had hounded his nightmares for weeks afterwards. He really hadn't needed to see that of all things… a murder was cruel enough on its own, but a murder victim that was headless? It was a small wonder that Kudo had solved the case as quickly as he had.
Then he consciously thought about what he'd been told. It made him stop right in his thinking. Wait, what? Had he said "close to" just now? That made him pause in his tracks. If he remembered correctly then the murder had happened right in the building of the roller coaster, hadn't it? On one of the rides, moreover. Why, then, had the sleuth phrased it like this…? Kaito decided to "play it cool" and stay on the safer side of the conversation until he had more information to work with. His arms had loosened their death grip on the chair's armrests and his whole body had diffused some of the restlessness it had acquired within the last few moments of unease.
"What… exactly are you referring to?" Heh. Give the detective something to chew on, before he showed his own hand. That would at least make him explain and clarify exactly what he'd meant when saying "close to". Carefully scrutinizing the thief, the sleuth nevertheless went on to elucidate his own version of what he thought had happened that day. It was by then glaringly clear to both of them that their versions and impressions obviously differed a great deal. Just how much, though, was yet to be seen.
"… Did you by chance encounter a Kudo Shinichi while you've been there?" Now that question threw him for a loop. An eyebrow went up questioningly, the Kuroba male not even so much as attempting to break the trend concerning their interactions. What the hell did the now-shrunken teenage detective have in common with what they had been talking about? Was the blond sleuth losing it, now? Kaito did admit that he'd seen the eerie doppelganger of himself at the Mystery Coaster, yes. But what the heck…? That had most certainly not been the most important or even the most interesting thing going on back then! He could personally attest to that! This question having come completely out of the left field got him thinking, though. What if…?
"… Yes, I did. What of it?" Reluctantly, the thief prodded the other, as though he had a verbal stick in his hands with which he could do so, all the while inching closer and closer towards the sleuth with his admissions and answers when he felt that it was safe for him to do so. What was the blond pain in the neck up to now…? Where were they heading off to, what direction would their verbal sparring/conversation take now that he'd asked and gotten a reply to this question of his?
"It's just that… Kudo Shinichi, by then renowned high school detective, Detective of the East, as he was called by many,… he disappeared right on that day. Without so much as a trace or a hint to his whereabouts. He mysteriously vanished off the face of the earth, only appearing to a select few events since then the number of which I can count on the fingers of my hands. Now, I was wondering if you knew anything about it that could help me find him."
Oh, please. "Don't tell me…" the thief thought to himself, within the safe confines of his mind. This new conclusion threw him off-kilter, to say the least. Snorting a little more derisively than he'd intended to – but not caring, all the same – he stared at his host with a far more serious look than he'd ever used on him, all previous instances of them conversing (read: arguing) included. His thoughts had all been brought together in an instant to converge on one single string of logical conclusions that he couldn't quite bring himself to like. Now he had them, the missing puzzle pieces; he'd only gotten hold of the very corners, before. In his hands there had been a series of events that not-quite preceded one another, a timeline that stretched out before him but which he hadn't been able to bring together until the moment where the blond had given him the missing data to process most of the information that he'd already acquired on his own. A picture formed in front of his mind's eye. One that – unwilling as he was to do so – connected both men-in-black with the sudden and strange disappearance of one Kudo Shinichi. Did the blond high school detective even know what he was getting himself into? What he was signing up for simply by doing research on his missing colleague? Kaito didn't know much about the other's plight of men-in-black that was haunting him like the men-in-brown were chasing Kaitô Kid, but what he had found out… hadn't been easy to learn nor had it been in anyway the nice kind of knowledge or anything that he'd wanted to know too badly.
He himself knew that they were a) a dangerous lot to hang out with and b) deadly if so much as being looked at for longer than four seconds. That particular run-in with Kudo's shadows had not been fun in any sense of the word. And they quite literally could be described as shadows, couldn't they? Just like his own set of pursuers could be brushed aside with the negligent wave of a hand as a more unintelligent nuisance than he usually had to put up with at school. And that, frankly spoken, was more than enough to know that – if he could – he'd rather keep out of whatever Gordian Knot the smallest of his chasers had gotten tangled up in.
The earnestly foreshadowing silence lasted for longer that any of their classmates had probably ever thought that Kaito would be able to sit still, much less without any word leaving his lips at the same time, and it conveyed the warning that he was playing and replaying in his mind almost comparable to a broken record sprouting off a mantra-like utterance over and over. The meaning was clear. In the end it was the magician who broke the silence.
"Don't… go down there any further than you have already." Haltingly, the words tumbled out of his mouth, carrying far more of this certain… thickness that came from being suffused with information and left hung out to dry, afterwards. The density of emotion (worry, determination) that he exuded mixed with the strong sense of danger that already permeated the air, slowly seeping into his bones and touching his bone marrow in the creepiest fashion.
The blond appeared to be getting the message. Nonetheless, his curiosity had to have been overwhelming him with its intensity, for he appeared to veritably pounce on his warnings only a few moments after Kaito had "let go of the tension", so to speak. Having visibly dissected the words and phrasings – the thief had been able to see the wheels in the detective's brain turning during the silence's existence already – Hakuba didn't lose a second to press him for more details.
"What do you mean? Why shouldn't I…?" Trailing off, the sleuth probably thought him an idiot – a person who had, just now, maybe given him a link to his nighttime identity, he realized belatedly. But it didn't matter. To keep the detective away from them took priority. Kuroba had closed his eyes ever since the other had started speaking. What had to be going through his mind, right now? Once more, silence filled the room, though this time it was more contemplative and, dare he think it?, even companionable. He was slightly amazed at the thought that he'd never believed such a thing could ever exist between the two, and, oh, look where they were now…?
"…
Alright."
Hakuba surprised him by speaking. Would wonders ever cease? Having opened his eyes upon hearing him speak, he looked at the other in undisguised curiosity. He leaned his head left a little, making him appear almost bird-like, silently telling the sleuth to go on explaining with this gesture.
"That… I – you're…" The detective sighed, as though frustrated not to find the right words in that moment. Kaito was just wondering if the world would end soon and why nobody had told him the exact date and time of its collapse, yet. The oh-so-sophisticated British kid couldn't find the right words to express himself?
"Alright. I won't pursue this for much longer. I would be interested to know why you're so against it; however I won't press you, now." The blond teenager bowed his head in his direction, eyes closed. The immediate submission to his… demand, for lack of a better word, astonished him a little. Oh, he was all too aware of the staggeringly gigantic loopholes that the detective had inserted into his words. As, he supposed, was the detective. Nevertheless, he was quite generous, wasn't he? He wasn't even putting up much of a fight against him… which made him suspicious as hell, too, but that would be a trap that the sleuth would be running into all by himself. The part-time thief resolved to follow his steps more closely so that nothing untoward would be happening in the near future while he wasn't there to prevent it from doing so.
Although; the heavy, pensive and dangerous air had apparently been exchanged for one that was much lighter to bear, a companionable and genial one that he found very accommodating. An easy smile came to his lips, one that his host shared upon catching it. Shoulders sagging, he switched the topic, asking the thief whether he was planning to go to the ball that was to be held the evening of the 31st of October. It was a policeman's ball, which might have been the reason behind his question. The blond had to be curious if Kaito – being the phantom thief's civilian identity as the case was – would be willing go this far into the lion's den or not. A light laugh passed his lips before he knew it. Him, afraid of policemen? As though he hadn't grown up with one living right in the next house over! Hakuba's face featured a similar expression to his: not quite a smirk, yet both knew exactly what had been going through his head directly upon hearing the – rather absurd, he thought – question. After Aoko had invited him to that event – as she did to almost all events hosted by the Metropolitan police that her father had to be present and invited her to, as well, – he accompanied her. It was like this every time such an event had been arranged and he was sure this particular "tradition" would not change anytime soon, regardless of how the long-haired girl was behaving at the moment. She had her phases, too, sometimes. One was better off leaving her to them and asking her about them after the fact than intruding upon them and ending up being chased all over their district. Kaito had firsthand experiences on that. It had been less fun than their normal classroom chases were, to say the least.
Aoko angry because someone had picked the wrong time to disrupt her contemplation? That was a state that he wouldn't want to meet her in on the street. And they had a lot of possible meeting points, what with them being neighbors to one another. In those cases, this turned out not to be the very best position that he could be in. No, if she had to think something out in her head, he'd leave her alone. Like this, it was better for everyone all around. Their classmates could experience a normal school day without undue interruptions and explosions for once – as much as it pained them, apparently –, their teachers would finally be able to do their job, properly, that was, and their parents wouldn't get any more letters that would tell them that their children obviously were quite gifted kids, but if they could tame their young, little monsters' offspring's capriciousness a little more, that would be awesome (paraphrased, of course).
And she'd already told him to meet her after school, right? Kaito would go to her house right after he'd exited Hakuba's … mansion… and talk to her and after that he'd go home and go over the plans for the upcoming Kid heist once more. This, among other things, like his increasing suspicion that the blond would do something stupid sometime soon (hopefully after the heist!), was the incentive for him to finally beat it and head out once more, after telling Hakuba that he'd still have to do some homework (homework, hah!) and excusing himself for the intrusion, as was custom. Hakuba even accompanied him out, well-mannered host that he was. The grimace only just did not appear on his face at that. When they said goodbye at the door, however, the blond had one more question that caught him completely unawares. Perplexed, he stared at his host. And stared. Had he just honestly asked if…? His eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline. Just what image of the other teenage detective did the blond have in his mind?
"Never mind." Hakuba had said then. The blond had bowed, once, a clear show of respect towards an equal, and gone back into the house, paying no mind whatsoever to how he'd just closed the door right in his guest's face or what kind of turmoil he'd managed to get Kaito's mind into now.
XXX
The late autumn wind played with his hair, once again, as he slowly ambled towards his childhood friend's house. The leaves had already halfway left the safe trees' branches in the most poetic of ways: by dancing down towards the floor in the rhythm of the wind. His timing that day certainly left nothing to be desired: it was close to half past five in the afternoon which gave him enough of a leeway to take his time on his way there and still be punctual. Kaito was nothing if not punctual, after all. The sun hung low in the sky already, threatening to tip downwards over the horizon at any given moment that he didn't pay attention. It was a beautiful day, really. A pity school usually didn't let out until five in the afternoon – come next month they'd be going home in the darkness once more, he mused to himself a little regretfully. It was a good thing that he liked the evenings just as well as he did any other time of the day.
Aoko – she'd once told him she liked dawn and dusk best. To him, those were the two times of the day that were the most ambiguous as well as the ones that harbored the most change of all of the choices possible. Funny, how the world worked sometimes. He'd always thought she'd like the daytime best of all, up until he'd asked her (rather indifferently) about it when the topic had come up during one of her chats with Keiko at school. To be frank, Kaito thought it quite ironic. His alter ego, Kaitô Kid, was walking the skies clad in white, as everybody – in particular his most admirable followers aka chasers, the policemen – very well knew, though he himself was leaning far more towards the grayish area where crimes and their resolutions were concerned. And here, he was presented with an honest policeman's daughter who was so obviously tending towards the belief that the world was cut into two definite pieces (black and white, that was) and who liked the grayish periods best of all the times in a day that she could choose from. From time to time, Kaito thought that the moon was laughing at him from up there, where it faithfully followed the sun over the sky's landscape.
Never mind, though. He'd reach her house in about ten more minutes. Kaito would then ask her and figure out what was wrong with her and why she'd been acting in this strange a way that day. They'd be alright after about an hour of shouting, running and chasing and then he'd finally be able to go home to review his plans for the upcoming Kid heist the next day. Nothing easier to do than that, right?
Now, if only what the detective had asked him before he so nicely shut the door in his face would not still be lingering on his mind, that would be great. It would be even better if the words he'd directed at Kaito hadn't sounded so absurd and outright unbelievable to the magician thief. That… was an idea which was absolutely unconceivable, even in his imagination. It had come out of the left field and completely overwhelmed him with its absurdity and irrationality. Not that he was a candidate to reject or defy either; on a normal Kid heist he made it his job to prove those could be build into a career (not a legal one, but that didn't exactly count here.); it was just that at that very moment, the sleuth had managed to do something he hadn'd thought Hakuba could do again: he'd made him speechless. Gee, did that sleuth have to do that to him every other time they met?
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AN: Reviews, please?