Mikau: Hi guys! Long time no see! That's a good thing and a bad thing when it comes to these prompt fics, though since I only do them when I have writer's block. Those of you reading HP (it's KaiShin for those of you that aren't familiar with it) know that Kaito's been really driving that fic lately; well, on Friday he decided he was bored with HP, and he really didn't want to help me out with CTM or Roses either, so…writer's block of the worst kind. Luckily for you, this has sparked a truckload of these little shorts. Enjoy! By the way, thanks so much to reviewers from last chapter: Assasin8, Bunnyz-chan, patternleap, and Niino!

Disclaimer: If I owned it, we'd be in trouble because I get writer's block a lot. However, if Aoyama-sensei were looking for someone to take over, I'd gladly volunteer. I think I could steer the series in a direction that would make the fan base happy. I'd need help with all of the murders, but there would definitely be more romance and plot development. It'd turn into shounen ai, but somehow I don't think you guys would have a problem with that.

…

Check "Yes" Juliet

"Okay. Even I can tell that something is wrong," Shinichi sighed, setting down his fork. "What's up, Kuroba?"

Kaito shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, taking an uninterested draw from his milkshake straw as he pretended to find the clingy couple several booths away to be fascinating.

Shinichi blew out a long sigh. "You're, like, seven years old. You're being childish, Kuroba. Why won't you even admit that there's a problem?"

With another shrug, Kaito switched to Shinichi's glass of water, leaning in and taking the straw in his mouth, blowing bubbles into the drink.

"Great," Shinichi grumbled. "Never mind. I take it back. You're not seven; I went to school with seven year-olds in possession of more maturity than you. You're like five, Kuroba."

Kaito picked up Shinichi's discarded fork and used it to take a bite of Shinichi's lemon merengue pie.

"Everyone's really worried about you, you know," Shinichi attempted to appeal to Kaito's sense of reason (Ha!). "Koizumi-san, Ran, Sonoko, Hakuba…"

There was an almost imperceptible flinch from Kaito.

"Haibara, Ayumi-chan, Keiko-san, Aoko-san…" Shinichi continued.

This time the recoil was clearly visible.

"Heck, Kuroba, even I'm worried about you." Shinichi let the words hang there between them for a minute or so.

Kaito fidgeted in his seat, fiddling with the pilfered fork.

Shinichi took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could see that this was getting him nowhere.

"You can talk to me, you know," he gently offered. "We're friends, Kuroba, and I'm here for you."

Kaito seemed to shrink up at this, as if he were afraid to actually accept the lifeline that Shinichi was holding out to him.

Shinichi rubbed at the back of his neck as he chewed on his lip. "Yeah, I know I kind of suck at all of this feelings stuff and interpersonal communication in general since I'm kind of dense when it comes to all this, but…sometimes I think talking to someone—no matter how…incompetent in the area—and getting it off of your chest is better than letting it stay there and crush you."

Kaito stopped squirming and looked Shinichi in the eye. "I don't know if talking about my problem will be of any help. I mean…I doubt it'd even be worth the trouble…and I don't want you to hate me in the end. I'd rather be crushed like a car." Kaito went back to blowing bubbles in Shinichi's glass.

"What?" Now Shinichi was even more lost. "Kaito, that doesn't make any sense. Unless you're secretly a murderer targeting the people I care about, I just don't see myself ever hating you. What the heck is wrong?"

With a sigh Kaito released the straw and grabbed a napkin. He pulled out a pen from his pocket and began to write.

Shinichi frowned but let his eccentric friend do as he wished.

Once Kaito was done writing, he placed the napkin face-down in front of Shinichi before getting up and walking away.

Shinichi looked back and forth between Kaito's retreating back and the note for a minute before finally turning the message over.

"I like you. Do you like me? Check one: Yes/No."

Shinichi blinked and read the note again and then a third and fourth time.

Shinichi threw a five thousand yen bill down on the table and raced after his friend. "Kaito!" he yelled once he had gotten close enough. "Kaito!"

Kaito turned around and blinked stupidly, terrified of what Shinichi was going to say.

"Let me borrow your pen!" Shinichi demanded.

Kaito timidly handed over the writing implement and shifted his weight from foot to foot repeatedly as he waited for the results of his little survey.

Shinichi folded the note back up and held it out for Kaito to reclaim.

Kaito reached out with a shaking hand, too nervous to actually look at his crush. He took the paper and held his breath, slowly unfolding it. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he found the "Yes" option circled, starred, underlined, and checked.

Kaito breathed a huge sigh of relief and almost broke down in tears. "S-Seriously?"

"Yeah," Shinichi chuckled, taking a step closer to rest his hands on Kaito's hips. "Yeah, seriously. For the past four months now. You?"

Kaito blushed. "Let's just say…I've been intrigued from the day we met…both at the clock tower and on that April Fool's Day almost three years ago."

"I'm glad," Shinichi chuckled, a broad grin spreading across his face. "H-Hey…would you wanna go see a movie or something?"

"Are you asking me on a date?" Kaito smirked.

"Sort of?" Shinichi's grin turned sheepish as he scratched at his cheek.

"In that case, yes," Kaito giggled. "Wanna go to an arcade or something after that?"

"Yeah. And then we can get dinner at this nice restaurant that just opened up a few blocks from the train station," Shinichi added.

"So long as you're paying," Kaito laughed.

Shinichi rolled his eyes, self-consciously reaching out to thread his fingers through Kaito's as they walked.

Kaito blushed but didn't protest. Truthfully, he'd always wanted to hold Shinichi's hand. He was glad that Shinichi seemed to feel the same way.