Chapter 12: A Father
Doctor Fujiwara had met the Kaitou 1412 on four separate occasions, three times with the Phantom Lady present and once without her. He knew very little of the enigmatic man, much as he knew little about any of his clients. What he did know was that, for starters, he and the Phantom Lady were madly in love. What a feat it was, the man had reflected, for the Kaitou to convince the Phantom Lady of all people to fall in love!
He also knew that of all the interesting, mysterious characters he'd met, the Kaitou 1412 was by far the most elegant, well-rounded, and in-control. He had a natural sense for such things: Had to, as a doctor to criminals (one needed to know if the criminal was likely to shoot you or thank you at the end of the night), and he knew from newspapers and various other sources that his assumption was accurate. In every situation, no matter how dire or unexpected, the Kaitou 1412 performed with upmost regality and level-headed-ness. It was part of what made the mysterious man one of his favorite acquaintances, despite knowing hardly a thing about him.
So to say that he nearly had a heart attack when he saw the Kaitou that night was no understatement. No one on the entirety of the planet had ever nor would ever see the white-clad thief so distraught ever again. He wasn't crying, or in hysterics, or anything of the such. His garments were as immaculate as they always were, and his posture was as straight and proud as ever, but for one who knew how to look, the signs were there, and they were glaring.
The man was clutching a small, heavily wounded child to his chest, and the first sign that the Kaitou was distressed could be found in the way in which he held the boy. As a father of one girl himself (though none of his clients were privy to that information), he could recognize the hold of a father cradling that which was the most important thing in the world to him; his own flesh and blood. The white-gloved hands wrapped around the boy in a particularly protective way that the doctor knew meant he didn't, in reality, want anyone to touch the boy, but knew that there was no other choice if he wanted his son treated.
The second sign of distress was in the fact that the ever-present smirk which had never ceased to grace the man's lips was gone, replaced with the slightest of frowns which, the doctor knew, on this man equated to the grimmest of expressions. His eyes, too, while devoid of tears, held a deep panic within them that barely registered onto his face in the crease of his brow.
Finally, there was the last sign that the Kaitou before him was more distressed father than phantom thief at the moment, and it was by far the most telling and unnerving. Though there was no wind blowing past them outside and the air was entirely stagnant, the white flowing cape of the thief quivered ever-so-slightly and barely perceptible shivers ran up and down the man's spine. If he hadn't of been wearing such an article as the cape, which amplified all signs of movement tenfold, then it would have been impossible to detect the highly suppressed, full-body shuddering.
The doctor blinked twice, attempting to hide the surprise and panic that instinctually gripped his own heart at the sight of the badly abused child and distraught phantom thief. He stepped aside and held the door open, the white-clad father moving as silently and smoothly into the well-hidden little clinic as any other time he'd visited, his arms wrapping instinctively tighter around the bundle in his arms. The doctor locked the door behind them and drew the curtains, not wanting any disturbances or prying eyes to find them.
"This way," he instructed, and Toichi followed obediently, walking as if on air, entirely silent. He led them to a back room and motioned for Toichi to set the boy (his boy, he presumed) on the cot in the center of the room. The thief did as instructed, resisting the urge to reach out and stroke his son's hair again as he left the boy's side, Kaito instantly becoming unsettled by the distance between them and loss of warmth his father had provided. Toichi only stepped as far as the corner of the room though, standing stock-still as a statue and watching every movement that was made with careful scrutiny.
The doctor tried to ignore the watchful gaze of the father, instead focusing on the boy before him. He was painfully young, that much was clear, but due to the damage and thin frame he couldn't say precisely how young.
"What's his age?" He decided to ask.
The phantom thief instantly responded in a steady, silky tone: "Four and three months."
The doctor nodded, taking a blood sample from the child's arm, making the boy squirm at the discomfort. The phantom thief shifted ever-so-slightly in the doctor's peripheral vision, and he knew that the man was suppressing the urge to push him away and demand he not touch the boy. Confident that the other man wouldn't actually take any action which might hinder his son's proper treatment, the doctor payed him no mind, continuing with his work on the boy. He carried the blood to the side to perform a test for drug usage. He could already smell the faint, lingering, bitter-sweet scent of chloroform on the boy, but he needed to know how much was still in his system. Chloroform was a dangerous anesthetic, especially when used on one so young. They were lucky that whoever had drugged the boy hadn't accidentally overdosed and killed him as it was; he didn't want to risk putting more chemicals into the boy's bloodstream without knowing exactly what was already there.
Toichi watched silently and with the most neutral expression he could manage as the man worked, refraining from moving so much as an inch towards them even as his son whimpered in pain while the doctor cleaned his wounds and injected him with various drugs.
He did move when the man had grasped his son's right arm tightly and jerked it back into its socket, resulting in a sharp and shrill cry from Kaito that awoke the boy from his slumber, the doctor having been too afraid of the lingering effects of the chloroform to give him anything to make him sleep more deeply. Now in the conscious realm, Kaito was panicking, the bright examination light above him blinding everything from view and the cold surroundings terrifying him. He squirmed and, at first, the doctor moved to hold him down.
But when the Kaitou moved forward, the doctor instantly fell back, in part because he knew he should leave the calming and stilling of the boy to his own father, and also in part because he was slightly frightened by the thief's sudden movement, fearing possible retribution for having harmed the boy, even if it was necessary.
He needn't have worried though, as Toichi's undivided attention went to his son when he approached, a gloved hand finding its way into the boy's hair as the man leant down, his other hand raising the tail-end of his cape to cover the exposed and cold chest of the boy as he whispered into his ear. The effect was instantaneous as the boy visibly relaxed and the doctor marveled at the thief's ability to sooth his son so effectively. Most children's fears could not be soothed away by the voice of a parent alone, but the ever-so-gentle touch of the Kaitou and the silky smooth, reassuring voice had calmed the boy from a state of agitation and panic back into his somewhat fitful sleep.
The father waited by his son's side only a moment longer than necessary before stepping back again and allowing the doctor to continue his work.