Chapter 17

Wolf made her way down the stark white hallway, one hand holding onto a small vase containing a cluster of pink Rhododendron, the other smoothing a wrinkle out of her nurse uniform. A passing doctor gave her a nod and a smile, which she returned, along with a quick flick of curled brown hair and a flirtatious wink. She had to stay in character after all.

She turned back to the room numbers, searching for a particular one. She'd taken a peak through the hospital's records and learned that a certain patient had been released from surgery about an hour ago, to a certain room just down the hall. She had to see, had to confirm her suspicions for herself. It didn't really matter in the end, arrangements had already been made, the fire, Fox, she'd even hacked Gin's records, removing any written evidence of a certain incident. She knew Gin, knew he never remembered witnesses, not unless something reminded him. Something like the memo Fox had sent out earlier.

That had also been discretely deleted. It was laughable how easy it was to get around her compatriot's security measures. Secure as Fort Knox to anyone outside the organization perhaps, but to the Boss's favorite? Child's play.

Ah, there it was. She stopped in front of the door and pushed it open, being careful to block the hall's light with her body. She wouldn't want to disturb the recovering patient, after all. The room inside was dimmed, light from the full moon spilling out of the cracks in the blinds. Monitoring equipment pulsed from the corner, next to the bed in this small recovery room.

Wolf closed the door behind her, making her way to the bed. She looked over the occupant, without the hairstyling gel and discrete makeup there was nothing to hide the fact that this kid was Yukiko's kid, not her old teacher's. She remembered him, had even taken an interest in his detective career before the issue with Kuroba had popped up. It was her policy to have a diverse range of resources in the wings, and if she could wind him up and point him in the right direction, Kudou Shinichi would be a wonderful tool indeed.

She wasn't here for Kudou tonight, though seeing him brought back half-baked plans and a reminder to make sure the Organization wasn't developing undue interest in him. Her eyes slid from the recovering teen to one of two seats beside the bed, at the phantom curled up in the uncomfortable chair. She'd checked with the other nurses, this child refused to leave the older boy so the staff had reluctantly allowed him to remain overnight. The old man, Agasa, was supposed to be here as well, but she'd just seen him in the lounge, nursing a cup of the hospital's horridly stale coffee. It gave her enough time to do what she was here for.

Wolf moved purposely past the child, careful not to muffle her steps too much beyond those of a thoughtful night nurse attempting to look out for the sleep of the hospital's patrons. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a faint gleam in the half light followed by a near inaudible shift in breathing patterns, warning her that the child wasn't quite asleep. Light sleeper, as she'd expected, especially if he was who she thought he was.

She placed the vase onto the night stand, arranging the blooms so they didn't obscure the card sitting amidst the pink petals. Satisfied, she moved back to the bed, checking the chart, going through the standard procedure to put her watcher at ease. Eventually the child's breathing evened out again and she paused, taking the chance to get a closer look.

She'd seen the kid from a distance in the warehouse, where she'd elected to guard the prisoner. She'd watched, and then decided to fade out of sight when she caught nearly silent footsteps that didn't belong. It had looked like a ghost walked out of one of her memories, and she half expected to see her teacher pop out of a shadow like he delighted in doing during her lessons once upon a time.

Once. She'd seen Toichi's son in person once. Twice, if she counted the funeral, but she never forgot a face. This boy was a dead ringer for a decades-ago Kuroba Kaito, perhaps a few years older. And given Kuroba was supposed to be the same age and near twin to Kudou over there…

Things were getting…interesting.

Kaito cracked an eye open after the nurse left. She'd really given him the creeps, stopping and looking at him like that. He was used to the pins and needles feeling of being watched, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Upsie daisy. He winced as his back protested the movement; hospital chairs weren't the most comfortable thing to fall asleep in, even if it'd been nothing more than a cat nap. Rule number six of being the Kid, sleep when you can, heist and homework wait for no man. He was already running low on sleep from his burglary spree, add that to Shinichi—

Shinichi!

No, he was still in bed. Still asleep. No different from when the doctors had wheeled him into the recovery room. They'd told Agasa the surgery was a success, there was no major damage—a relief. Then he'd gotten a call from Mom, telling him her and Jii would be staying at the Kudou home, and then…then…

Everything came crashing down, and he'd barely managed to warn Agasa before he passed out. That was the last he'd remembered before light changes and footfalls snapped him awake.

Flowers? They did deliveries at this time of night? The clock by the monitoring equipment proclaimed it to be just a hair on this side of 11 o clock. He got to his feet and rubbed a petal between his fingers, it felt real, which cut down on the possibility the bouquet was trapped. An experimental poke into the water and a sniff—nothing suspicious. Just because he'd created sleeping gas filled bouquets didn't mean anyone else did.

Maybe he was getting paranoid. Sleep deprivation and close calls and lethal animal-named black clothed operatives weren't easy on his mental health. He wasn't aware of all the hospital regulations, maybe flower delivery was perfectly normal at all hours, as long as someone showed up to drop them off. He wondered who'd sent them as he made himself comfortable in the chair again, maybe Mom'd found a 24 hour florist on the way home. Did those exist? If they did, he was sure his Mom knew where to find them. She knew everything. Somehow.

The door clicked. Kaito cracked an eye open, just a slit, although that was quickly fouled by the blinding light from the hallway. Instead he listened; the footsteps were distinctive, hinting toward a heavyset person. A smell tickled his nose—coffee? All that was left was a faint sigh as the elder settled into the chair next to him, "Professor?"

"Aaah, my apologies Kaito-kun." Yep, he was right. "Did I wake you up?"

"Nah." He doubted he could get back to sleep, not with the way paranoia was doing a jig on his nerves. "I'm too twitchy to sleep." What he wouldn't give for his card-gun, or even just a handful of his other tools. Ever since he'd become Kid, he always kept something on him. He never used it, but it reassured him that he could get away if need be. A smoke pellet here, a sleeping grenade there, and he would be able to escape from anything.

They gave him the reassurance that he could always run, if it came down to needing to use force to escape. Nobody gets hurt, not even the bad guys.

But after that guy shot Shinichi, once Kaito'd turned him into a pincushion of dissolvable sleeping darts, he'd been so angry. If he'd had his card gun he would have buried metal-reinforced cards somewhere non-lethal.

There was so much blood.

"Ah, right." Kaito fiddled with the watch band on his arm. Agasa blinked at the stun-watch being presented to him on Kaito's open palm, "Thanks for letting me borrow this, old man."

Kaito wasn't prepared for when the old man shook his head, closing Kaito's spread fingers around the small ovoid contraption, "Hold onto it for now. It's even got a flashlight function. See? Press this button here—" Agasa rattled off other characteristics of the invention, including time zones. Kaito just kind of stared blankly in the professor's direction before shrugging and slipping it back on. It was an undoubtedly useful device, sneaky and unobtrusive, and he could think of plenty of practical applications for it. If he could modify it to shoot silly string…

The professor laughed, and Kaito was glad to see some of the tension bleed out of the silhouette. Too bad it wasn't as easy to unwind himself. "What? I'd need to take a looksee at the firing mechanism, but I'm positive I could make it work…"

"You tinker?"

"A little. Dad taught me a lot about maintaining and working with…equipment," Some of it I later realized weren't all for his magic act. "I haven't recently—no tools or projects."

Agasa shifted, leading to a frown on the boy's face. Now what? He'd been trying to make the professor relax, not send him to Guiltland. What'd he say?

"Kuroba-kun, erm, if you'd told me earlier…I could lend you some tools, if you wish."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." Though he was having doubts he'd even still be at the Kudou home much longer. Shinichi might not—Mom and Jii knew now.

"Shinichi-kun's parents called while I was out." The professor suddenly changed tracks,"The plane pulled in about ten minutes before. Yuusaku-kun was very worried."

Why did he feel the sudden urge to crawl into a closet and hide? He shifted, trying to get rid of the unease crawling around like little ants. It didn't do anything except wind his nerves tighter.

"Maybe I should go. Check on Mom." And Jii. He needed to talk with Jii-chan. The last thing his nerves needed was the on again, off again detective that was Kudou Yuusaku, Kaitou Kid's namer, and Shinichi's father. Not that he was afraid of the man, but…he was a parent. Kaito was responsible for his child being in the hospital according to the niggling little voice in the back of his mind that insisted on pelting him with guilt bombs. He might not have pulled the trigger, but the gun had been aiming for Kuroba Kaito all along. It had been Shinichi's idea to take his place, but Kaito'd let him. Snake had killed his father, and Kaito'd just let Shinichi walk in there.

I was the reason Shinichi was there. I'm the reason he got shot. I…

don't want to face them. I don't want to leave him.

Shinichi's breathing was almost inaudible between the conversation and the faint beeps of the monitoring equipment, but if Kaito listened, he could hear it.

He's here because of me. Because of that damned gem-!

…and it wasn't even the real one.

Pandora was still out there, locked in some rich man's vault or hiding inside a museum display case. The entire charade wasn't even worth anything. It didn't even ensure the safety of his mom. They'd grabbed her once, what was going to stop them from grabbing her again? Maybe he could convince Jii to take her out of the country for a while…

"Kuroba-kun…"

"I'll be fine! I'll call Jii-chan from the lobby, I owe him explanations anyway. A-and—" He let out a yawn he didn't really feel, "maybe I won't be as twitchy at home. I'm exhausted."

Agasa let him go, thankfully. An hour later, Jii-chan had said he'd take a while, his phone vibrated, letting him know Jii-chan was waiting outside. Mind carefully blank—he was trying to ignore his conscience telling him to turn around right now and the don't run away! accusations—he moved across the nearly empty lobby toward the door, tossing a "Uncle's here! " and a smile to the bewildered night nurse who'd been pestering him about being alone. What was it about being under 4 feet tall that had adults so jumpy?

"Ara!"

Omph. He hadn't seen the couple coming through the door and barely clipped the woman as he moved past. A quick glance told him that the brown haired lady hadn't fallen, and he could see Jii-chan's car sitting out front so he just yelled a distracted "Sorry, Obasan!" and hurried out the door. The parking lot was even more deserted than the lobby, aside from Jiichan there was a cab pulling away back onto the road, but he didn't pay much more than a cursory glance to it.

It was with relief that he slid into the passenger seat of the old car. Often he'd have to call Jiichan to come pick him up after a heist, if he was too tired or hurt to make his own way home

"Thanks for coming to get me."

"Of course Kaito-kun."

And there was something odd about that statement. Kaito glanced across the car as it rolled away from the curb, toward the familiar drawn face behind the wheel. Jiichan looked tired. Eyes lined and heavy—

Wait…

"Did you lose your glasses, Jiichan?"

The car turned out of the hospital parking lot and onto the open road, Kaito fiddled with his watch.

"Unfortunately. I managed to swing by and pick up my contacts, so you need not worry about my driving."

A grin, despite the dull roar that was the pounding of his heart, "I wouldn't doubt you Jiichan."

Except that Jiichan hated contacts, said there was no way he was sticking little bits of rubber in his eyes. Luckily, his eyes were an unremarkable black, unlike Kaito's identifiable blue-violet, so he didn't need to use contacts in disguises. He'd even worn his glasses beneath a tight fitting theater mask, which Kaito knew from experience was awkward and uncomfortable. Kaito didn't even know if Jiichan owned a pair of contacts, if he had misplaced his glasses since Kaito last saw him he would have asked Mom to drive. This person sounded like Jiichan, looked like Jiichan, except…

He called me 'Kaito-kun', not 'Young Master'. I've tried to break him of that habit, yes, but he's been so stubborn about it, I doubt he'd change now.

This is not Jii-chan.

But who is it? I don't know anyone who can impersonate someone to this extent. Besides myself anyway.

And…Dad…

"Kaito-kun?" The imposter's voice began, "Would you be averse to some dinner? Your mother is asleep, and I wish to speak with you."

Dinner? At this hour? Kaito didn't let his suspicions show, looked thoughtful about it, before putting a hand on his stomach, "I am a little hungry…the hospital food didn't look very palatable." If he could get the imposter off the main roads and the car slowed, then he could use Agasa's gadget on the guy and bolt. He'd used one dart earlier, and the professor had given him a two-shot watch, just in case the first didn't hit.

They pulled into the parking lot of a nearby fast-food restaurant—one of those Western chains that had been popping up all over the place—and the imposter started going through the usual pre-exiting the vehicle ritual. The car was off, the driver turned away and reaching down to unbuckle the seatbelt. Silently, Kaito shifted in his seat, flipping up the targeter for his watch and training it on the exposed skin below 'Jii's' wispy grey hair and above the faded suit collar.

Fwip. The nearly invisible dart shot through the air. Bull's Eye!

Aside from the initial twitch, the imposter didn't react. Wasn't falling, wasn't slumping. It wasn't supposed to be like that. He'd seen it hit the unprotected neck, had witnessed the same type of dart take down a much taller, bulkier, younger man in less than the thirty seconds that crawled by before the imposter finally straightened up.

"Now that that's taken care of," 'Jii' reached up to scratch his neck; fingers catching on a near invisible seem just below the collar and peeling off the mask. "I can finally get rid of this stuffy face."

Long blond curls fell out from the old-man's disguise, framing the blue eyes of a foreigner's face. Illuminated by the parking lot lights, she turned to face the stunned-but-not-showing it boy in the passenger seat. Her lips quirked, Jii-chan's familiar tones sliding away into younger, female, and lightly accented, "How did you know?"

"Contacts. Jii-chan hates them. And I mean loathes." He immediately fell into habits—not quite Kid's level of playful confidence, but enough to disguise how utterly out of control he felt. "You need to do some more research, Imposter-san." She didn't look overly threatening, hadn't pulled a gun on him yet, but Kaito knew well not to judge prematurely. Besides, he couldn't leave even if he wanted to bolt, she'd called him by name, she had Jii's car. Jii's phone. "Where's Jii-chan? I can't imagine he just lent you his keys." Jii-chan was far too protective of his car.

"With your mother." She purred, "He was perusing that impressive library when I palmed his phone." She casually withdrew the keys from the ignition, inclining a head toward the big windows of the fast-food place, "I don't plan on taking long. Shall we discuss it further over dinner?"

"I would rather not." She wasn't lying.

"Oh, but I must insist, Kaito-kun. Didn't you see the flowers I left?"

Flowers she left? The only flowers had been delivered to Shinichi, and he'd checked to make sure there wasn't anything funny in them. The night nurse though, had given him the creeps. Oh she'd done her job well enough, checking the machines, checking on the patient, but then before leaving he'd felt eyes on him. Watching, studying….He tensed.

"I imagine it was too dark to see, but they were Rhododendron. "

Rhododendron…

'Beware.'

And given she'd successfully infiltrated the hospital staff to deliver them, essentially been alone with a drugged Shinichi…

"…lead the way."

Kaito did his best to project a sense of normality, both to the imposter, and the clerk running the register. Constant chatter had the clerk smiling with tired indulgence, a sense of "cute kid" flavoring the entire interaction. As much as he wanted to be outraged and frosty with the imposter, letting those emotions out would be recognizable, elicit curiosity, and possibly concern. If the conversation ran along the lines he was expecting, he couldn't afford to have curious ears listening in, even if they were well meaning. He didn't have to keep it up for long; they were the only ones in the restaurant at the time, so the food was quick in coming. Ensconced in the furthest corner of the dining area, he left the bubbly kidditude behind, crafting the confident, but slightly nervous persona he'd decided to use as a shield. "What did you want to talk about Obasan?"

She was looking at him oddly, there was amusement, but there was also something else Kaito didn't recognize. Of course, he knew she knew at least basic acting, so he could just be seeing what she wanted him to see.

"Call me Chris." A foreign name, it fit with her appearance at least. That hair didn't look dyed. "That was an impressive act; you certainly live up to your reputation. Both of them." Something clattered against the plastic table surface. Kaito had to pull out all the stops to keep himself from reacting to the dark green jewel gleaming under the fluorescent lights. He took her knowledge of his background, and her possession of a jewel he'd left in the possession of the man in black, and didn't like the conclusion

He let more of his unease through; pushing away the kid's meal she'd ordered for him, "You don't happen to work with animal named operatives and a clichéd dress code, do you?"

"Smart boy. It must come from hanging around with a detective." A well manicured finger played with the silver chain, pushing it back and forth, twining it around and around, "Well, Kaito-kun, can you deduce what I want?"

He snorted; "I am hardly a detective, Chris-san," It's not like he could answer anyway. "and I'd like to get home before morning, it's been a long day."

"Of course, of course, I just thought you'd enjoy a puzzle. Where's the fun in getting the answers right away, hmm? Isn't that why you always send riddles?"

He gave her the most venomous glare he could manage, which, given his rather non-intimidating image, only elicited a chuckle for his efforts. "Such expressions don't suit that cute face.

"But the fact of the matter is, Kaito-kun," There she was again, being so familiar. She kept plowing down the distance he was trying to set up, "My associates know about you, even if some still believe you are your father. They believe you found it, thanks to your poorly worded retirement note. They know that, Kaito or Toichi, the easiest target is wife and mother, dear Hiromi-chan." She had that infuriating little smirk on, she knew he had him trapped, "And if they wanted, they could easily spread out the net more, Aoko-chan, Konosuke-san, Saguru-kun…neighbors, classmates…the possibilities are endless, given Kaitou Kid's publicly announced motto."

Nobody gets hurt.

"Tell them I don't have it."

"I could do that. But it wouldn't help." She chuckled, he was glad she found it so amusing. "Kid vanished. Kaito vanished. It is all so…suspicious."

"Then what would you propose?" He was slipping further into Kid's speech patterns, almost scathingly polite. He had to if he wanted to box away the growing anger at the way she was leading him around by the nose. "Send a regretful note stating I've given up my thieving ways and wish to become a monk?"

"No." Her lips twitched, "There is only one way to derail Them…"

He could sense the capital letters in the way she spoke.

"Death."

He didn't sleep last night. Nothing beyond a few stolen hours when his exhausted mind said Enough and just shut down.

The last decent sleep he'd had was the night after Shinichi's surprise. Afterwards it became a blur of fear and worry, a desperate bid to unearth Pandora that he'd known going in would not work. Luck tended to favor him since picking up his father's mantle, but the odds against were far too great, but damn it he had to try because it was his mother—and then came the actual confrontation. He'd had enough on his mind with Shinichi's injury, hearing the two gunshots ring out and echo damningly in the forest of shipping crates. He'd been positive he'd emerge onto the scene too late, that bastard leaning over the fallen detective, finger pressing down on the trigger.

That image had haunted him all night, even though he knew upon waking the detective had been able to hold off the man with a soccer ball of all things. Shinichi had been serious about his "kicking" things at criminals comment. He wondered where the ball had come from, but Shinichi hadn't been in much of a condition to talk about it.

Kaito sighed, head resting on one arm, the other holding the chain so that a milky white gem twirled at eye level. It spun lazily, the concealing spell long since dissolved into dust sometime last night. She'd given it back. A "sign of faith." Bah, more like twisting another knife into his back. First she threatened the detective—his detective!—in that roundabout way of hers, and then…then…

"I'd love to keep both of you out of this mess." It was said with just the right amount of regret that Kaito could hear the "but" coming on. "I owe a thing or two to your father," Lies. All lies. If they were true, then why hadn't she intervened back then? Saving the man's life would be a more fitting payment than this. "and the last thing I want to do is draw attention to Yukiko-chan's cute son. I can keep quiet about what I know, Fox is…indisposed, and I can even derail any future interest in Kudou-kun…"

Why would she be doing this? He eyed the stone in hopes it would answer, too tired for a proper glare.

"You see, Kaito-kun, I don't like to share." He could see her hands on either side of his head, but he refused to flinch, staring straight ahead at the darkened windows of the Kudou-house. Home for the past half-year. It was currently sanctuary for Mom, under Jii-chan's care.

Her hands withdrew, but he heard a click of metal, clasp catching on silver ring before a heavy weight settled around his neck. A whisper, "I will keep you safe. And your detective too, of course. I keep all my aces safe." Jii-chan's keys were slipped into his hand, phone into his pocket. He refused to respond, even as her hand patted him once on the head.

She was gone.

It was a collar, that's what the gem was. A reminder of the favor he owed her. The word left a sour tang in his thoughts. She hadn't been very specific, but, given the circumstances, he couldn't very well refuse.

His eyes snapped up, angling out the kitchen door and into the entry hall. The doorbell rang once, followed by the sound of keys in the lock. The bell had probably just been a warning, an announcement. The jewel was stuffed back under his shirt, a cold, noticeable presence resting against his chest. It was noticeable to him anyway; it otherwise hardly made a sign.

Shinichi wouldn't be out of the hospital yet. Even if he regained consciousness and was discharged, the police would want to talk to him about the circumstances around his injuries. It was probably the professor, coming back for something or other. Clothes maybe. He couldn't remember if they'd taken a change with them.

The two who entered were decidedly not the professor. His eyes were immediately drawn to the man, breath catching in his throat.

Dad…?

"Look Yuusaku! He's just like a mini-Shin-chan!"

The next thing he knew he was engulfed in a smothering hug. He wasn't sure how the woman had managed to cross the hall, the kitchen, and circumvent the table in order to get at him in such a short amount of time.

"Yukiko, he needs to breathe."

Amused, but Not Dad's voice.

On the heels of that comment the woman reluctantly dropped him, and Kaito took advantage of the opportunity to gulp in some air. Such a wonderful thing, air was. It was one of those things that were never appreciated until they were crushed out of his lungs.

Kaito was a little woozy, stumbling back a step. He exaggerated slightly, taking more time to recover than needed in order to examine the two newcomers. He had names now, Yuusaku and Yukiko. Shinichi's parents.

"I'm sorry boya! You just look so much like Shin-chan, I couldn't help myself. You must be Kai-kun. We talked on the phone a few days ago?" At Kaito's quiet nod she continued, "We got into town last night and spent the night with Shin-chan and the Professor at the hospital. Agasa-hakase asked us to pick up a few things and we needed to drop off our luggage." She gestured to where Yuusaku was wheeling a set of suitcases, "Shin-chan was asking after you this morning, and we'd thought we'd pick you up and take you over if you'd like—Ara! Yuusaku! Be careful! The souvenirs are in that bag!" She was suddenly drawn away by the man of the household, who had carelessly flipped a bag onto his shoulder.

Wait a second…she sounded familiar, and it wasn't from the phonecall. "Ah! You were the one I bumped into last night!" He hadn't paid much attention at the time, more interested in getting out before the parents arrived.

"Yep! It wasn't a big deal, though I do have to ask—do I look like an Aunty? I don't think I do, do I Yuusaku?"

"Of course not, 'kiko." Came the grumbled response from the stairwell. Kaito couldn't help a nervous smile, this sounded like a long running discussion.

"Anyway. We're just here to drop off our luggage, and then it's back to the hospital. Would you like a ride, Kai-kun? Shin-chan was asking after you this morning."

Right. Shinichi probably wanted to hash out what the official story was. Not to mention Kaito had a bit of disturbing news to deliver. He'd managed to catch wind of the headlines as he was flipping the channels earlier, before he became tempted to throw the remote threw the TV. "Thank you, ob—neesan" He caught himself when she gave him a look, "I've been worried about Shin-niichan. Is he okay?"

"Shinichi will be fine, and very likely out of the hospital by tonight. That boy was never very good about following medical advice." Da—Yuusaku appeared back down the stairs, devoid of baggage and keys in hand, "Are we ready to go?"

After a chorus of affirmatives, Kaito shuffled out of his slippers and into his sneakers, glancing every now and then at the single pair of women's shoes, and larger dress shoes that sat innocently off the side. Mom and Jii were still upstairs. He was sure the Kudous had noticed the shoes, but neither one had said anything.

It took him hours before he could finally catch Shinichi alone. No parents. No nurses. No well-meaning inspectors hmming and hawing about his favorite teen detective. The professor wasn't even here. He'd taken the 'rents out to lunch, an invitation that had been extended to "Kai-kun" as well, but Kai-kun had shaken his head mutely, looking down at the floor before mumbling he wasn't hungry, and he wanted to stay with Shinichi-niichan.

Yukiko-obachan had cooed and promised to bring him back something, patting him on the head before whirling off after her husband and long-time neighbor. The door drifted shut, and the room's silence was broken by an unabashedly unmuffled snicker.

"Oh yeah, she's gonna love you." Kaito shot a look at the detective trying, in vain, to work on a crossword puzzle. Shinichi gave him a half-shrug, the best he could do with his right shoulder immobilized, "What? You didn't have to deal with her daily for thirteen years straight. Once I grew out of the "cute" stage she started to back off. Somewhat."

"You laugh now—imagine if you'd been the one de-aged." Kaito shot back, padding across the room to the unoccupied, utterly uncomfortable chair he'd been ensconced in last night. He got a glimpse of the puzzle Shinichi was working on; he thought it was in English. It didn't look like Kanji. Or hiragana. Or even katakana. He tilted his head—was that an s? It was hard to tell—The roman alphabet written with his left hand was horrible.

"So…what happened? Officially."

The detective did that half-shrug again, "I was walking home. Got mugged. Don't remember much after that." Shinichi twirled the pencil clumsily with his left hand, staring at it for a moment before looking up, "I don't like this. Unless we testify that man won't be held accountable for his actions."

"Shinichi…" He hadn't wanted to bring this up, "The warehouse burned down. It was all over the news."

The pencil snapped.

And Kaito was trying very hard not to think about the charred remains found in the rubble.

"Those…those…"

Shinichi was near seething. It looks like he recognized the act just as Kaito did. A clean-up. This meant that guy wasn't working alone.

Of course I knew that already. He thought humorlessly. Chris. Snake. Snake reported to a boss, and that boss commanded several henchmen. Capitalized Them.

…I should probably tell him.

But he didn't. Wouldn't. The bright pink of the flowers quietly stated so, hovering at Shinichi's left side. Kaito sighed and boxed it away, he'd lasted this long keeping secrets. He just hoped Chris kept her word in keeping the detective out of whatever she was brewing.

If Shinichi knew, he'd try and get involved. He was in the hospital because he'd gotten involved this time. Kaito wasn't going to let it happen again.

"Oi, give me the book. Your handwriting is atrocious."

Shinichi scoffed, but obliged rather forcefully. Kaito had to duck the projectile that passed within inches of his head. The detective tapped his pencil against the sheets restlessly, "It's too easy anyway."

He slid out of the chair and picked up crumbled puzzle book, flicking through it to the half-finished puzzle. It was in English. Given the Kudous lived in America it made sense Shinichi would be fluent in the language.

If this was too easy…Kaito tapped the book against his hand, hopping back up in his seat, "How's your French?"

All Shinichi needed was a distraction. Kaito's usual arsenal of magic tricks weren't likely to work, but if he could make the detective use his deduction skills…

"Shaky." Translation: Nearly Nothing. He could work with that. The magician flipped through the various puzzles in the book till he found one with easily translated clues. He hadn't worked on his French in a while, not since he'd translated his father's Arsene Lupin collection a couple years ago, but he remembered enough, "Okay, I'll translate the clues into French, you give me the answer in English…"

Five completed puzzles and much frustration later, Shinichi demanded, "Where'd you learn French anyway?"

Kaito grinned. The detective was improving. He'd struggled for the first two, gotten better once he'd figured out the syntax, and then suddenly began to struggle once Kaito upped the difficulty, finding puzzles with complex clues that required more vocabulary. Whenever Shinichi didn't know a word Kaito would either play charades or think up an obscure riddle. It was frustrating the detective to no end, but at least he wasn't moping anymore.

"Dad taught me some. He used to hold shows in Paris and would fly us out sometimes." And then Dad was gone, and Kaito'd religiously practiced everything and anything Dad'd taught him, because it was all he'd had left.

That dampened his mood. He'd been thinking about Dad a lot the past few days.

"Next clue?"

Sometime later Kaito heard voices outside the door, and quickly switched back to Japanese, "Nii-chan, how can you read this? English is so weird."

The detective sent him an incredulous look at the sudden switch to sugary sweet, but understood as hurricane Yukiko clew down the door.

"Shin-chan! Kai-kun! We're baaack! I brought back some food! Mou, Yuusaku-kun and Megure-keibu spent too much time talking, so blame them if we're a little late!" Shinichi's mother bounded into the room, a convenience store bag dangling from her hand, motly band of followers filing in behind.

True to her statement, the parents + professor had been joined by the portly police inspector. The men all hung back, seeming rather amused as Yukiko bared down on her bedridden son, "Here Shin-chan! I know you'd much rather be at home now, but the police and the nice doctors have some things they need to do. At least this way you don't need to eat the hospital food." She plucked a second, smaller package out of the bag. The detective opened it warily, but was mollified by the prepackaged contents and broke apart the to-go chopsticks. It's not like his mother would poison him. Unless she cooked.

"Aaaaaand some for you Kai-kun!" Yukiko deposited the final contents into Kaito's chair, taking possession of the half-completed crossword puzzle, "Mou, did Shin-chan make you work on this? I didn't know you could read English."

"I asked Shin-niichan if I could see it. It's too haaaaard." Kaito complained absently, his neglected stomach making itself known at the thought of food. He hadn't eaten much since the 'nibble just to be polite' last night with Chris. Eventually he'd lost his appetite, but such a thing was not an issue now.

He poked carefully around in the bag, slightly worried about what he might find. Shinichi's mother didn't know not to get him f-f-those things, and it was one of the most common food-stuffs. One of the cheaper too.

He relaxed in relief when he finally unearthed it, finding a portion of pork cutlets, rice and vegetables. With a thankful grin he snapped the chopsticks apart and began to dig in ravenously. Yukiko giggled, "It's a good thing the professor was with us, I was about to pick up sushi before he mentioned you don't like fish."

The mention of the F-word had Kaito choking on the previously inhaled food, much to Yukiko's bewilderment. She never did find out why Shin-chan was laughing like crazy.

A/N: Yes I KNOW this is like horrendously late. It's been sitting for some…er…a long while, pretty much finished. It's extra long though, does that make up for anything?

…Le crap…has it SERIOUSLY been over a year since I've updated this? I don't think I can apologize enough for that :/ Good news is, this story is just about done. Few more chapters should be enough. There was gonna be a whole nother arc, but I decided to break that off into a sequel.