Disclaimer: I do not claim any right to DCMK. Now that I think about it, I don't claim any rights to the Tower of Pisa either.
Wednesday.
Petrichor, the smell of rain, filled the detective's nose as he ran from school. Storms had battered much of Japan through the night, only ending late in the afternoon. Puddles lined the streets as news anchors on public screens commented on the record rainfall, slowly switching to global warming and climate change.
Shinichi was suspicious. Intensely suspicious. The last few days' events filled every wrinkle of brain, replaying again and again.
Kaito's magician genius, paired with the disguise make-up in his bathroom. Very few women had that much make-up and there was no sign of his mother using it very often. Besides, none of the make-up had expired yet, not even the mascara.
The person he might have or have not seen in Kaito's bedchamber. If they had been there, how had they left? Not by window, for sure, but in hindsight... his room seemed almost too small for the floorspace it should occupy. A secret chamber?
Hakuba's insistances, coming from someone irrational once in a blue moon. Even if the great detective was to ignore them, he could not deny that Kaito occasionally gave off the same playful presence as the phantom theif.
Shinichi pressed on the doorbell, cursing mildly when he was showered with pink dye.
The door opened, revealing Kuroba-san who apologised profusely. Again, she offered him the shower, advising him to just reuse yesterday's clothes.
The detective did his best to not stain the floor, walls, or furniture on his way up. He quickly stripped from his clothes and rinsed the gunk off. Then he pulled on the white pants and didn't bother to button up the shirt in his haste. Years of living with his mother had forced him into the habit of never walking around completely shirtless.
Then, leaving the water running, he snuck into Kaito's room.
It was rather neat, considering his kohai's penchant for pranks and messy dyes. There was a bit of scattered homework, sure, but it seemed experimental tricks were kept to one shelf (or rather, exploding from it). He recognised them as so-called "experimentals" Kaito had used on passers-by during their last meeting at Poirot... but that was neither here nor there.
The only thing slightly out-of-place was the life-sized KID portrait hung flush against a wall.
That's when Shinichi noticed that it was not Kaitou KID in the image. At least not the KID he knew and dealt with. Someone with such a similar face to your own is rather hard to forget and this one was not it. It was too old.
Two KIDs? That was of course a possibility. Kaito's father had died close to when the first KID, as Shinichi dubbed him, disappeared.
Then where was Kaito trained? Then again, hearing about Kaito's antics and his mop-wielding childhood friend, it would not be hard to say such things must have come rather naturally.
Shinichi confirmed his theory that this room was too small for its floorspace. A secret room then. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed on the portrait...
...only to stumble down the metaphorical rabbit hole into Wonderland, which looked rather like a concept of KID's studio, right into one Kuroba Kaito whose eyes were on the detective's chest.
"S-Shinichi..." the magician-cum-thief whispered, like when they first met as sempai and kohai.
"You're KID. Why did you lie?" the detective spat, a feeling of betrayal - was that what it was when one was shattering on the inside - welling up inside of him.
"Shinichi... I could hardly have told you, could I...?"
Kaito's features suddenly broke from their perfect mask, pulling into begging anguish.
The detective was too broken himself to answer the plea. Instead, he let his tears fall.
"You could have. I really wouldn't turn you in, not like that. You could have told me when Hakuba first appeared in our lives and I would have helped you. You didn't need to tell me such falsehoods. Wouldn't it have hurt more for you to keep it all to yourself, in the end?"
"S-Shinchi... I... I..."
"Just stop. Please. Goodbye, Kuroba."
He dragged himself away. Behind him, soft sobs could be heard. His heart fractured all over again at the pain in them, tearing new mental cuts. Tears ran down his cheeks in a warm stream and his breath came out in ragged gasps.
Something inside of him snapped into an unfamiliar emotion. He was becoming more and more accustomed to them lately. This time, he was withering on the inside, like he did a bit when someone lied to him. Only... only... this was somehow so much more like rotting everywhere, as if he suddenly had a huge Kaito-shaped hole in his life that just fell away. A hole that was so much of him now. A hole he couldn't even start to try to fill.
Kuroba-san was waiting when he dashed down the stairs. She sighed with a rueful look on her face.
"Well, I can understand that sentiment. I'll send Hakuba-kun over with your clothes the next time he comes over. Don't catch a cold in the rain."
"You aren't going to...?"
"You have a minute to get out of here. Otherwise, looking half-dead or not, you're in for it."
Shinichi took the warning and quickly slid on his socks and shoes. He wiped his tears somewhat and took the bus back home.
He couldn't fall asleep.
And roses stilled, as if in the eye of a storm, as if someone had drained the life out of them.
This came out from my desire to kill off a character every time I got stuck with the plot, as well as my musings on how being dogged by crime might affect someone. Definitely trust issues. Kaito's mom isn't really all that mad because I suppose she will be scary like that (I'm really scrapping the barrel here, based on her informing Aoko about Kaito's fishy fears to get to her son) and because Shinichi probably really looked half-dead. You really couldn't have any enjoyment out of getting revenge from someone so pitiful.
Or maybe I'm just tired because it's after midnight and I like to wake up at dawn. Take your pick.
Reviews are author food. If anyone has any suggestions for a driven group of fanatics, I'd be glad to hear them! I need a crazy lot of them for later events and nothing's set in stone at the moment.