A/N: Sorry for the later-than-usual post! I got a bit sick this morning and posting this was one of many things I meant to do then which did not get done.

This is one of my favorite chapters in the story, and my beta, miladyRanger, agrees. That said, in light of current events—there's a decent amount of discussion of shooting and gunshot wounds in this chapter, and if after the Orlando shooting, that's something anyone feels the need to nope out of, I understand completely.

Other warnings are in the end note as usual, along with links to art!

Chapter 9

The roof felt like it was moving under Kaito's feet—geez, what kind of trap had Inspector Nakamori come up with this time?

He blinked, took a breath, and it wasn't moving anymore. It had never been moving, he'd just gotten dizzy. Because it turned out that going straight from minimal activity to high-speed gymnastics was slightly risky. And did not do good things for your coordination, or the display cases in the museum, except that the museum display cases weren't going to feel this later and he definitely was. Ohgosh, this was such a bad idea, why did he insist on doing a heist this month?

Because not doing one would be like conceding to Jackal, plus it would make Nakamori and the Task Force worried over him as well as Hakuba. Right.

Well, getting caught would accomplish the exact same things, so, maybe, next time, more than a month of recovery time between getting shot on one heist and doing the next, he decided. Or better, he could just not get shot again. Yeah, that sounded good. So did less pain and his field of vision not moving from side to side when he was standing still.

Oh wait. Standing still. Heist. Bad.

He took off for the door leading down from the rooftop, hoping that he was running in a mostly-straight line, and brushing a hand against his pocket to remind himself that, yes, the jewel was still there.

Oh no, someone was in the doorway. Couldn't be Tantei-kun—Kaito had made d*** sure he didn't even know about this heist, and besides, this was an adult. They looked like Kusakabe, a little, but the face was in shadow—and they were a little too short. Still, none of Jackal's guys were that heavyset that he remembered, so unexpected guns, while still possible, were unlikely.

Then, Superintendent-General Hakuba Tsuyoshi stepped out into the moonlight and Kaito had the pleasure of realizing he was even further in over his head than he'd thought. Awesome.

"Kaitou KID-san," Tsuyoshi said. "Nakamori-keibu told me that my son often sends guards to rooftop exits when heists are held at buildings like this one, so I took a chance. I am thankful it paid off. I am here to ask you a favor."

Poker Face, Poker Face, Poker Face, this is what you wanted, remember, Kaito thought, even as he asked, "What would a police superintendent-general have to ask of a phantom thief?"

"Earlier this month, you were apparently looking into the matter of my son having left home," Tsuyoshi said. The moonlight picked out the shadows under his eyes—had he always looked so old? More than that, had he always pronounced his Japanese so exactly like Hakuba? Then again, it was probably the other way around- Hakuba borrowed his accent from his adoptive father. Still, hearing that diction with a different voice and face to it was…unsettling.

Ooh, just imagine hearing it with his own face and voice. Which would happen, probably, eventually, if they found Hakuba. D*** but his life had gotten strange.

No. Wait. Older-Hakuba asked a question. And Kaito had to answer like he really was an unflappable ageless phantom thief instead of the injured, freaked-out teenager actually wearing the monocle.

"That's right," Kaito said. "He's a favorite critic. I wanted to know what had happened."

"Are you still looking into it?" Tsuyoshi pressed, expression intense.

Kaito debated what to tell him. On one hand, telling him he had a team of talented critics with him would be encouraging—on the other, it could hurt their reputations if the head of the Tokyo Police knew they were working with a thief.

"If you aren't, I'd like to request that you once again give the matter your attention," Tsuyoshi said, looking Kaito in the eye. Instinctively, Kaito pulled down the brim of his hat, stubbornly ignoring the sharp pain that lanced through his shoulder at the action.

Tsuyoshi seemed to take either the refusal of eye contact or Kaito's not answering right away as indecision. "I've spoken to some of the Task Force; they say you seem to care about the policemen who chase you," Tsuyoshi said. "I trust their judgement. And…it would seem that my son's abilities are a closer match to yours than I knew, which means that you may be the one with the best chance of finding him."

"You realize that isn't the normal way of things?" Kaito asked, almost rhetorically. "Thieves don't chase detectives; with your son and I, particularly, there is an established order of things."

"Precisely," Tsuyoshi said, tone sharp. "Perhaps you aren't very concerned, Kaitou KID-san, but do recall precisely how intent my son was on your capture. What, exactly, do you think, could have convinced him to give up on it?"

Oh, I don't know, the fact that he was never trying to capture me? Kaito thought. Though…it's kind of bad, isn't it, that just Mom finding him out was enough to make Hakuba give up completely on protecting me, too?

"Until I know for certain that he isn't fleeing some threat—real or imagined—I won't stop looking for him," Tsuyoshi said. "Will I have your aid or not?"

Tsuyoshi's expression was utterly serious. Kaito, exhausted, aching, and nearly as concerned about Hakuba as the man before him, could only answer in kind.

"You will," he said, thinning his smile to a grim line as, hand still gripping his hat's brim, he swept forward into a bow.

"It is…much appreciated," Tsuyoshi said. His voice was thick, and Kaito could not handle this. The second Tsuyoshi stepped away from the doorway, Kaito all but threw himself through it, without even thinking about how the movements would jar his injuries.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

There was a funny beeping noise, Kaito noted blearily, and it wasn't stopping. Oh. That was his phone alarm, for when he was supposed to leave to work with Tantei-kun and the others…s***. He'd slept through school completely, the day after a heist, Hakuba would have him this time.

No. No he wouldn't, because Hakuba was gone, and also Kaito from the future, and life was really getting stranger all the time, but it wouldn't involve an arrest anytime soon unless Aoko got suspicious by herself.

Okay, he'd been awake for a few minutes now, and he was definitely more conscious but he did not feel any less like he'd gone a round of dodge-the-mop with Aoko without dodging, and that was concerning. Injury inventory time it was, then. Bruises, it felt like, mostly. Lots of bruises, some new, some old and not as healed as he thought, and pain in his shoulder, and basically…yeah, he shouldn't have done the heist at all last night. His mom was gonna kill him if his own body didn't get to it first.

But, first, time to meet the detectives to work on Hakuba-tracking. He'd need to put together a disguise pretty quickly—maybe Shinichi, given the circumstances?

He looked down, and realized that a simpler solution would be to keep on the KID costume he'd apparently slept in. Unprofessional as h***, of course, but the amount of effort and raising his arms involved in taking it off and putting something else on was pretty much unthinkable at this point, so, yep, the costume stayed on. He did at least throw on a full-length grey coat over it—though he was sure the shoulder decorations on the cape made the coat hang oddly—and collapse the hat so that he could tuck it under the coat. The monocle went from the bedside table (at least he'd taken that much off) to one of the pockets.

He slipped into the bathroom, and checked his facial makeup. It looked horrible, of course—he'd slept in it. His mother would probably need to throw out the pillowcase, too, since most of the stuff he used was waterproof. Hey, it needed to be to survive everything he threw at the police. If he didn't have so much practice at this that he could practically do it asleep, he would've just given up in exhaustion, but at this point he could do it on autopilot—carefully-placed blush and foundation to distort the contours of his face, a couple of touches borrowed from his dad's old stage makeup, concealer under the eyes to hide any signs of late-night heist prep, and—done.

Okay, now he just needed to convince himself that going to meet the detectives was actually worth the effort and pain associated with moving. Yep. This was going to be a productive night, he could tell already.

Oh, hey, heat was supposed to help with aches and stuff, right? He still had some of the adhesive hot packs left from the heist that Kaitou Corbeau almost-but-didn't crash, so he could use those. It'd probably ruin the silk lining again, but he could re-sew it.

Besides giving me nice shiny tools for breaking and entering, Jii is teaching me to be a lovely househusband, he thought, letting out a giggle he recognized as slightly manic.

So, mostly on autopilot, he stuck a few heat packs stuck to the inside of the suit jacket—over his shoulder, of course, and his chest and stomach, which ached next-most—and he was almost ready to go. Good thing he at least kept the "Detective-ing Bag" packed and ready to go, so all he had to do was put the cell phone in and pick it up.

Okay, picking it up wasn't that simple. Picking it up hurt. Moving hurt. But Beika wasn't that far and he would be fine. Absolutely fine.

He got to the apartment and he was not fine. But he had Poker Face, and he could still focus on his breathing, and those were both very good things.

He took off the coat, put on the monocle and hat, and knocked. Shinichi unlocked the door and then glared at him.

Poker Face, Poker Face, Poker Face, he reminded himself.

"Is there any particular reason you didn't tell me you were planning a heist last night?" Shinichi asked, voice scraping the bottom of the pitch range that tiny body of his was capable of.

"Couldn't make you an accomplice," Kaito replied, trying for 'glib' but probably only managing 'flat.'

There was a chair, over in the other corner of the room. Hattori had gotten it at some point during his stay, and Kaito couldn't bring himself to care from where or how. He was a detective, it had to have been legal, at least. He made his way over it and tried not to collapse into it too obviously.

"You wouldn't have made me an accomplice," Shinichi said, impatience soaking his tone. "Because if you'd told me, I would've stopped you."

"Hold up, Tantei-kun, just because we're working together doesn't mean I stop being KID," Kaito said, managing to summon up enough energy for anger from who-even-knew where. "And KID steals things, that's part of the whole—"

"I understand that," Shinichi interrupted. "But you are supposed to be smarter than this."

"Smarter than what, exactly?" Kaito asked testily, sure he should be offended but not sure what Shinichi was talking about.

Shinichi made a frustrated noise. "Than going on a heist when you were clearly not recovered enough! Of all the reckless, irresponsible things—you know you're our best chance at actually getting to talk to Hakuba, when we find him—you could've died, and then what?" the teen-turned-child demanded, voice rising in volume and pitch until it squeaked. "I know that what you're trying to accomplish on heists is important—but so is you living long enough to do it. If you die before you find that thing or we find Hakuba, it's all been pointless, do you get it?" He carded a hand through his hair, glared, and took a deep breath. "And you're barely with it enough to keep track of what I'm saying, right?"

Playing off the statement with a laugh would hurt, so that was right out. "Actually, I was getting most of it," he said. "And having something to focus on was helpful."

"Have you taken anything?" Shinichi asked, a bit less bite to his tone.

"I need to be fully aware for this," Kaito didn't-really-answer.

"If you're in enough pain that getting yelled at is a welcome distraction, you don't count as lucid anyway," Shinichi grumbled. "Do you have something, or do I have to go to the nearest drugstore and do the 'Nii-san's out of pain medicine' act?"

That did startle a laugh out of him, and, sure enough, it hurt. "The h*** have you been up to, Tantei-kun?"

Shinichi waved off the question.

"No, seriously, I want to hear this," Kaito pressed.

"I had good reasons and maybe if you can avoid re-injuring yourself for the next two weeks, you'll get to hear them," Shinichi snapped.

"You wound me, Tantei-kun," Kaito said dramatically.

"Someone else has already taken care of that for me," Shinichi grumbled. "You better not let them do it again, idiot thief."

"Right," Kaito said, smiling a bit despite himself. "I've got medicine, I'll just go get it—"

"You are not getting up unless the building catches fire," Shinichi interrupted. "Tell me which bag and how to disarm the booby traps."

"There aren't booby traps, I bring it to a place full of detectives," Kaito said, sighing. "There are a few pranks, but not near the first-aid kit, that would be stupid. It's the brown bag by my left leg, in the front pocket with the zipper. Don't open the one with the snap closure."

"I thought you said no booby traps," Shinichi said, unzipping the pocket gingerly.

"Aerosolized dye isn't a booby trap," Kaito said, summoning the energy to be insulted from heaven-only-knew-where. "Sleeping gas, a spring-loaded fist, sparklers—those would be booby traps. This is just a prank."

Shinichi made a frustrated noise, pulled out the first-aid kit, and opened it. "There's some acetaminophen in here, and some ibuprofen. Which works better?"

"Ibuprofen, usually, but—"

"You aren't supposed to take it on an empty stomach, I know," Shinichi interrupted. "Hattori'll be back from Lawson's in a few minutes with some convenience-store bento; you can have some of my sushi and take it then. We were expecting you to call off, because of the heist, and Eisuke hasn't called yet either, so we decided to take a food break."

"Um, sushi?" Kaito asked quietly, panicking a little. Great, everything hurts and now I have to figure out how to lie my way out of eating fish. It's still gonna be in the room, though…ugh…if I just don't think about it, I'm sure it'll be fine…haha…yeah, definitely, just don't think about it…

"Are you vegetarian or something?" Shinichi asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because I'm pretty sure I've seen you eat meat in disguise before."

"Uh…"

"Okay, no, this just feels mean," Shinichi said. "I can't interrogate you like this. So, sushi freaks you out, for whatever reason. Okay. Is this just an 'I don't want to eat it' sort of thing?"

"More like an 'I'd really feel better about everything if you ate it in the kitchen and I stayed here', sort of thing," Kaito said, very nearly levelly.

"What the f***, it's rice inside of a piece of fried tofu; you get shot at on a regular basis and that is what scares you?" Shinichi demanded a bit hysterically.

"Oh, it's inarizushi," Kaito said with relief. "That's all right, then."

"So you're only afraid of some kinds of sushi?" Shinichi asked, just as the door opened.

"I think I musta misheard that," Heiji said, walking into the room, kicking the door shut behind him and holding up a plastic bag. "I got the food—sorry there ain't any for you, KID-han, but we didn't think ya were comin'. Actually, ya shouldn't be here. Why're ya here? Ya gotta be hurtin', after being an ahou last night." He toed off his shoes by the door and started across the room toward them.

"Give it a rest, Hattori, I already laid into him," Shinichi said. "I have a feeling this is the first commitment today he's been awake for, and he just barely managed to make it in. He's taking ibuprofen after he has some of my sushi."

"So I don't even get an opinion anymore?" Kaito asked, more amused than offended.

"Ahou who hold heists when they're recoverin' from bullet wounds don't get opinions on their health," Heiji said firmly, sitting down crosslegged near Kaito and Shinichi and dropping the plastic bag on the floor in front of him. "Ya can't go to the hospital without gettin' arrested, sure, but that ain't an excuse not ta take care of yourself properly. Unless yer futon's fulla police officers too, ya could at least try gettin' some rest or somethin', geez…"

Shinichi turned bright red.

"What'd I say?"

Kaito sat back to appreciate likely the only time he'd be able to watch an eight-year-old hold back laughter at a teenager's accidental innuendo.

"What?" Heiji repeated, starting to get frustrated.

Kaito had mercy. "I'm not that close to the Task Force, Tantei-han," he said, smirking, and giving the word "that" a subtle twist that made Heiji's eyes light with comprehension.

Now Heiji's cheeks were the ones darkening with color, and he was clearly winding up for some kind of retort, but before he could stammer anything out, the phone Eisuke usually called on rang. Heiji scrambled for it.

"H-hondou -han, good morning!" he said, still flushed, after picking up. "Everythin' okay over there?"

Onscreen, Eisuke ducked his head. "I'm so sorry. I stayed up writing a paper and it seems I forgot to set my alarm."

"Happens," Heiji said dismissively, setting the phone on top of a stack of printouts so it was a little easier for Kaito to see from his chair.

"KID -san, you came!" Eisuke said, surprised. "You probably shouldn't have. How badly are you hurt?"

"It's mostly just bruises, I think," Kaito said.

"You think?" all three detectives echoed.

"I woke up, put on KID makeup, and came here," Kaito said. "I mean, I can usually inventory injuries by feel, but…"

"You're not the most awake at the moment, and you didn't actually do a visual check," Shinichi finished. "Can you get to the bathroom to actually do one, or do you want Heiji to help you get there?"

"Do you really need to be so pushy?" Kaito asked.

"The only people he ever mother-hens are other eight-year-olds that don't listen to him," Heiji said. "Plus, he's as rude as me half the time, just with a Tokyo accent and from knee height, so people don't notice so much."

"Will you cut it out with the short jokes?" Shinichi snapped.

"I'm going to make breakfast," Eisuke said, sounding bored. "Yell into the phone if you need first aid advice; I'm kind of an expert at this point."

"To answer your earlier question, I can get myself to the bathroom," Kaito said, standing very slowly. Everything was stiff, everything hurt, and those heat-packs had already stopped working. Stupid cheap things, he thought, a bit viciously, as he started across the room.

"Okay, now it's my turn to be pushy, ahou," Heiji said, coming up behind Kaito and then unceremoniously draping Kaito's arm over his shoulder. He'd at least picked the one that wasn't attached to the injured shoulder, but the stiff muscles still protested heavily, and Kaito couldn't quite shove down the wince.

"S***, how bad did ya mess yerself up?" Heiji asked, as he matched his pace to Kaito's and carefully took most of his weight. It was pretty obvious that he'd done this before—Kaito wondered if it had been for the taller version of Shinichi, or someone else.

"I am normally very careful to stay in shape between heists," KID said carefully. "Most of my difficulty this time was less due to injury and more due to being out of shape as a result of recovering from it."

"Huh," Heiji said. "Makes sense, I guess."

They reached the entrance of the bathroom, and Heiji carefully ducked out from under Kaito's arm. Kaito, in response, slumped against the entryway for a moment, then slipped through the door.

He didn't say, "Thank you," until the door was half-closed.

He shrugged off his jacket first, already a little tired at the idea of taking off the entire outfit and putting it on again. At least having the jacket off meant having the cape, and the attached hang-glider, off as well, so there was that.

It looked like he was going to have to wash the dress shirt, though. The top of the shoulder was a nice dark color, and, sure enough, when he reached across to brush fingers over his back, it felt stiff and crusty in the same way Hakuba's discarded bloody shirt had. Sighing, he took off his tie, tucked it into his pocket, and then undid the top few buttons of his shirt, tugging it away from his shoulder, and edging sideways a few steps so that his back faced the bathroom mirror. Gritting his teeth a bit, he craned his neck over his shoulder to check exactly how badly he'd reopened the wound.

It wasn't the whole way, it seemed. It was kind of messy, so he couldn't be sure, but it seemed like he'd just torn the middle bit of the wound open a little. The reopened wound hadn't bled that much, but—it could probably use sterilizing, and a proper bandage, and of course he'd left the first aid kit out in the living room with Shinichi and Heiji.

Grumbling, he turned around and opened the door, steadying himself against the wall slightly until he made it to the open living room.

"Look, if you wanna have one of my onigiri—" Heiji started, gesturing with his wooden chopsticks.

"KID?" Shinichi interrupted, getting to his feet, eyes wide.

Heiji followed his gaze and his jaw dropped. "Yer bleedin'—s***!"

"I was bleeding," Kaito corrected. "It's stopped. But I thought it best to bandage the wound, just in case."

"Yeah," Shinichi agreed. "Come over here."

Kaito stiffened. "I can do this much myself."

"Not well ya can't," Heiji said. "You can barely see it without turnin' yer head halfway around, so yer gonna have a hard time cleanin' it. An if ya manage that…well, at the speed yer goin' tonight, ya ain't gonna have the energy left to get the bandage on one-handed, even if ya do know how ta do it."

"There are a number of areas of the human body that are unique to each individual," Shinichi said. "The fingerprint, the ear, the cornea—the shoulder isn't one of them. We're not going to be able to identify you by it, or by the injury. Even if we saw someone with a similar scar, we wouldn't be able to identify a person with it as you unless we were sure there wasn't any other explanation for it. And I'm guessing you already have some sort of explanation in your civilian life for what happened—you can't completely act away the effects of a bullet wound."

"You could just be saying that," Kaito said.

"You've saved my life more than once," Shinichi said flatly. "And we have a truce for this case. I'm offering to help."

"He's tryin' to say, 'I never offer to help, be flattered,' without bein' rude," Heiji said.

"What'd I miss?" Eisuke asked from the phone, startling them all.

"KID reopened part of his shoulder wound," Shinichi said, with a glance toward the phone. He glanced back at KID. "That's what happened, right?"

Kaito nodded.

"You need to at least put some gauze on that," Eisuke said. "The fact that you reopened it means it's going to heal slower. If you can, you should probably clean it, too, just in case. You use smoke bombs on heists, stuff might've gotten into it, and you don't want it infected."

Kaito shuddered. "Okay, I'll accept the first aid help. But this is a one-time thing."

"Heiji, could you go wet one of the gauze pads so we can use it to clean the wound?" Shinichi asked.

"Why do I hafta do it?" Heiji demanded.

"Because you don't have to use a stool to get to the sink," Shinichi replied, rummaging through the kit, then pulling out two wrapped gauze pads. He tossed one to Heiji.

Heiji made a grumbling noise but got up regardless.

"Can you use chopsticks with your other hand?" Shinichi asked.

"I thought you weren't trying to catch me!" Kaito exclaimed, startled by the odd line of questioning—something Shinichi usually only used on suspects.

"I want to know if you can eat the sushi while we're bandaging you," Shinichi said levelly. "I didn't forget about the pain medicine. Now come sit down, but on the floor this time."

Kaito made his way across the room and carefully arranged himself into a vaguely crosslegged position. It was uncomfortable, but far less uncomfortable than attempting seiza would have been.

"Sorry," Shinichi said. "The chair's probably more comfortable." His smile turned strained. "But I can't reach that high."

"It really gets to you sometimes, huh?" Kaito said, feeling an odd burst of sympathy for the detective. But it's a little easier to understand right now, when walking a meter or so is exhausting, isn't it? There are things he just can't do right now and that has to be frustrating.

Shinichi looked down as he continued rummaging through the first aid kit. "I'm sure getting shot at gets old after a while, too."

"Right about after you actually get hit," Kaito agreed, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and pulling it away from his shoulder so the wound was visible.

"Here's the pad," Heiji said, coming to kneel beside them and handing it to Shinichi. He tossed a bundle of white on the floor next to Kaito. "Got your jacket and cape, too—feels silk, but that's all I know about it from touchin' it." He turned to Shinichi again. "Kudou, you should probably do this, your hands are steadier."

Shinichi nodded, then grabbed one of the containers of sushi and put it on the floor in front of Kaito. "Now, you eat, we'll fix the hole in your shoulder."

"It's not a whole hole this time!" Kaito protested, opening the container and solving the chopstick problem by eating the inarizushi with his hands. I can use chopsticks with either hand, too, but that's not something I need detectives knowing.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Heiji said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you, okay?" Shinichi said, dabbing carefully at the wound.

After a few seconds, he hit a tender spot, and Kaito flinched.

"I said to tell me!" Shinichi snapped. "It's not just for your comfort; there's enough dried blood there that I'm not completely sure where the actual wound is. I don't want to take off the scab—"

"In this case, you might want to," Eisuke said. "The wound could have foreign matter in it."

"Okay, I might want to take off the scab, but I don't want to do it without warning you," Shinichi said.

"Okay," Kaito said. "That hurt. You happy?"

"No, but thank you for doing what I asked," Shinichi said.

He finished wiping at the area around the wound. "I'm going to wipe at the scab now. It might hurt, and it might start bleeding again. Hattori, could you open the other gauze pad?"

"On it. Got the antibiotic cream too."

"Thanks. KID, you ready?"

"Yes," Kaito answered, mentally adding, as I'll ever be.

Shinichi pressed the wet gauze on the scab, and while the skin around it was tender, Kaito didn't feel anything in particular besides pressure and the same ache he'd been feeling all along. After a few seconds, Shinichi cursed.

"Yeah, it's bleeding again. Hattori, the antibiotic cream and gauze?"

"Here."

Kaito felt gauze with antibiotic cream on it being pressed against his shoulder, and then taped in place.

"Where'd you get the tape?" Heiji asked.

"I got that out of the kit and put it in my pocket when I started," Shinichi said. "Made things easier. Eisuke's probably got more experience with this sort of thing, but I've still got some."

"Thanks," KID said. "All of you."

He pulled his shirt back to rights and re-buttoned it.

Shinichi smiled faintly. "Now, eat at least one more piece of sushi and you can take the ibuprofen."

"Can I eat it in the chair?" Kaito asked.

Shinichi sighed. "Yes, you can eat it in the chair."

Kaito took a piece of sushi, stood slowly, and then collapsed back into the chair, careful not to jar the newly-bandaged shoulder. "I missed you," he murmured.

"What?" Eisuke asked.

"Stop eavesdropping, that was between me and the chair," Kaito scolded, before taking a bite of sushi.

Eisuke shook his head, and Shinichi let out a bark of laughter as he carried the bloodstained gauze he'd used to clean Kaito's wound to the kitchen. They could all hear Shinichi dragging a stool up to the sink, running the garbage disposal, and then washing his hands.

Kaito finished his sushi in thoughtful silence, then dry-swallowed two ibuprofen.

"You shouldn't dry-swallow pills," Eisuke said, a hint of worry to his tone.

"I'll be fine," Kaito replied.

"Your DNA is safely past our reach," Shinichi said, as he came back into the room.

"Thank you," Kaito said with a nod.

"He took the medicine," Heiji reported.

"Good," Shinichi said.

"So, are you going to let up now?" Kaito asked.

"Are you going to do a heist next month?" Shinichi responded.

"No," Kaito said. "Not if it'll mess up my shoulder again."

"Then I'll let up," Shinichi said primly, picking up a piece of inarizushi with his chopsticks.

"On the bright side, at least for KID's purposes, the scar's not going to look much like a bullet wound after it reopening like that," Eisuke said.

"Yeah, it'll be more irregular than you'd expect," Shinichi said. "Might get less suspicion that way. Seeing anything that even looks like a bullet wound on a Japanese person ends up raising some red flags."

"For police officers and detectives, yeah," Heiji said. "Though I guess that's what KID's avoidin'."

"We don't know what the scar will look like yet, so I'm not going to get ahead of myself," Kaito said, wondering if he'd taken something stronger than ibuprofen at some point. I'm sitting around with a bunch of detectives talking about whether I'll scar suspiciously. How did this become my life?

"Anything that looks like a bullet wound—Kudou-san," Eisuke snapped suddenly. "Is that why you were staring at me back at the Okudaira Mansion?"

"You have to admit, it was suspicious," Shinichi said, holding his hands up, his tone almost pacifying. "I already knew your sister was Kir, but I didn't know she was a NOC and I thought you might be working with her; it seemed like evidence—"

"If you'd been running on logic instead of paranoia, you'd have dismissed it immediately," Eisuke interrupted. "Have you considered, y'know, talking to someone, once you find an antidote?"

"I dismissed it soon enough," Shinichi replied. "And are you talking about a therapist? Because I'm fine."

"Uh-huh," Heiji and KID said sarcastically, and at once, before staring at each other in no little alarm.

"Tantei-kun, you are kind of paranoid, not without good reason, but still…how do you think you're going to adjust back to not having to look over your shoulder constantly?" KID asked.

Shinichi frowned. "I'll manage."

"Kudou—" Heiji started.

"I said I'll manage," Shinichi said firmly.

"What's this about Kudou thinkin' ya got shot?" Heiji asked Eisuke, clearly changing the subject.

"Just…an old surgical scar," Eisuke said, reluctant.

Heiji's gaze didn't shift focus and Eisuke squirmed in place, looking uncomfortable. "I had a bone marrow transplant, as a kid," he said, rubbing at the center of his chest in what seemed like an unconscious motion.

"What?" Heiji asked, a bit loudly, making Eisuke blink in surprise. Then, he turned to Shinichi. "If it was in the middle o' his chest like that, o' course it wasn't a bullet wound! Anything direct enough to leave a scar that round woulda shattered his sternum, sendin' bone fragments through his organs an' killin' 'im!" He snorted. "An' ya still get called The Great Detective of the East."

"I figured that out after I thought about it; give me some credit!" Shinichi spat in return.

"Ya shouldn't've even had ta think about it, that's practically Fatal Wounds 101!"

"There is no such thing!"

"You'd've failed it if there were!"

"Don't you feel silly now for thinking they'd make a big deal out of it?" Kaito asked Eisuke rhetorically.

"I guess you aren't going to, either?" Eisuke asked. His tone wasn't hopeful…but Kaito was beginning to figure out that Eisuke had a bit of a Poker Face of his own.

"Why interrupt the show?" Kaito asked. After all, you don't give a kid a bone marrow transplant unless they're really sick—cancer, usually, I think. I'm guessing he doesn't want to talk about it and I can't really blame him.

"I don't know, if they get much louder they'll blow out my speakers," Eisuke replied.

Kaito snickered and tuned back in to Heiji and Shinichi's argument.

"I only said that because you weren't going to tell me your deduction unless I said you were the better detective!" Shinichi snapped.

"So ya were lying?" Heiji asked, a sly grin on his face. "What happened ta 'There's only one truth'?"

"My name is a lie," Shinichi fumed. "Everything about Edogawa Conan is a lie. So, yes, Hattori, I can lie."

"I dunno," Heiji said. "Conan-kun sure seems to like soccer, and Sherlock Holmes. An' his neechan." The grin turned into a full-on smirk. "Guess none of that applies to Kudou, though."

Shinichi turned bright red. "H-Hattori!"

"Let them go," Kaito said. "They probably need to blow off the steam." They just bandaged me up. I'm sure they're not used to dealing with the alive-and-bleeding combo, nevermind the fact that I'm a thief and they're actively helping me out at this point. It's either this or serious self-examination about how moral and safe what they're doing is, and I doubt they want to do the latter with me still here.

"We aren't getting a thing done this time, are we?" Eisuke asked.

"Doubt it," Kaito said, grinning a bit as he tried to settle in the chair in a way that didn't hurt.

They could afford one night off, he decided sleepily.

A/N: Additional warnings for detailed discussion of murder methods, some very light innuendo, and a character (unknowingly) being insensitive about a phobia.

I struggled with the writing of the phobia bit, but ultimately found the way I did it to be most in-character for all parties involved—Kaito would not tell the detectives why fish were a problem, and Shinichi would not stop asking questions about it without a reason. Balancing Poker Face and a realistic phobia reaction was difficult, too, but I think I managed to do it.

There's a drawing of Hattori supporting KID when KID's trying to go check his injuries on my pixiv. I'm going to be putting it on Tumblr as well on Wednesday, along with a sketch of KID without his jacket.

I hope you enjoyed what I've been referring to mentally as "the three-ring circus chapter"—if you did, please do leave a review on the way out.