Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started like so many other things: in a locked room. Except this one had no handle on the inside, and Kaito’s least favorite tiny detective was grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary, having just shut the door. To be fair, Tantei-kun was the only one of his kind, so ‘least favorite’ didn’t mean much, but still. It was the principle of the matter.

But it always came down to principles between the two of them, didn’t it? Their similarities brought them together, ignited a rivalry, but their differences kept them firmly on opposite sides of the thin blue line. 

“You really thought this was a good idea, didn’t you.” Kaito sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he’d be stuck here for a while, at least until his backup arrived. 

Despite his hair being in wild disarray from the chase and missing his jacket, tantei-kun still managed to look smug as ever. “I’ve seen your prowess in picking locks, but locks are all designed to let people through under very specific circumstances. This room isn’t.”

“Ah, but I’ve gotten out of tighter situations.” Kaito shrugged easily. 

“Then why don’t you escape right now?”

“Ah-ah, a magician never reveals his secrets!”

Tantei-kun’s eyebrow twitched. “You can’t.”

“I never said I wanted to.” He produced a white rose from his sleeve, twirling it idly. “See, the thing about detectives is that they draw major conclusions from minor details, and then make rash decisions based on those. That’s how they fall into traps like this.”

The detective recoiled, but still hadn’t fully bought into it. “You couldn’t have…?”

“Oh, I have quite a few contingency plans. Something is always bound to match up with one of them, which is why I always win.”

Regaining some level of confidence, tantei-kun pushed up his glasses. “I seem to recall any of our clashes resulting in Pyrrhic victories for you at best . You may have planned for a lot of things, but you couldn’t plan for me. So long as I’m here, I won’t let you steal the Star Sapphire.”

“Right, you’re here too. Of course. I could just use you as a hostage when the police arrive. They’re quite attached to you, you know, and putting up any resistance might blow your cover as a sweet and innocent little kid.”

“You can try, but you might just end up with an entire division of police officers out for your blood.”

“They can take a number. I’ve already got an entire task force hunting me!”

Tantei-kun gave him a Look that any mother would be proud of. “If I hadn’t already used my tranquilizer dart...”

“You’d have better luck hurting me with that sharp tongue of yours. Honestly, you wound me. And here I thought we were rivals.”

Ah. That had struck a nerve, although for what reason, it was hard to place. “It’s my job to bring you down,” tantei-kun said stiffly.

“I’d say take a number like everyone else, but you’ve already made your way up the list of people trying to catch me. You’re up in the single digits, don’t worry.”

“Thank you?” Tantei-kun hesitated, trying to parse this information. His facial expressions shifted as he silently worked through it in his head, going from confused to offended to vaguely disgusted to tentatively hopeful, then settling on resolved. Really, someone needed to take a video of it and show it to him.

Oh, wait! He could do that right now!

Making a few subtle adjustments to his suit as he slid down into a cross legged position, Kaito smiled. “So, it looks like we’re here for a while, I have a question. What is it between you and that girl, Ran?”

Now there was the reaction he was looking for. Tantei-kun cycled through a rather amusing kaleidoscope of emotions before settling on, “Stay away from her. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, I was planning to anyways. I just thought your reaction was amusing. You should have seen yourself!” With a flourish of his hat, Kaito presented him a small screen in which he could play back the video. “Look at all the fun expressions you make!”

“Is this some kind of joke to you?” he demanded. “Is mocking detectives your favorite pastime?”

“Oh, tantei-kun, that would be terribly petty of me.” 

“Coming from the man who has so little respect for authority that he regularly goes out of his way to make a mockery of trained police officers in the most childish way possible, I’m inclined to believe that pettiness is about par for the course.”

“Maybe so. But I’m Kid; I’m allowed to be childish and petty. I suppose that makes you the more grown up one of the two of us.”

Tantei-kun flinched, a rather interesting reaction that Kaito catalogued for later. Then, as if wearing a poker face of his own, switched to the cheerful and innocent tone he normally kept up around other people. “Well, I guess that’s pretty pathetic that a second grader beats you out for maturity!”

Well, Kaito supposed he’d walked into that one. That was the best part of their clashes, really; Kaito could go all out against him, actually match wits with someone, and he was fairly certain the feeling was mutual. From what he’d observed, tantei-kun pretended to be a normal little kid around everyone else, but Kaito knew how taxing normalcy could be on a prodigy. Granted, he had his suspicions that something else was going on with tantei-kun, but those had been placed on the back burner for now. For all intents and purposes, they were equals on opposite sides of the law. It was really a shame that this kept them from being friends.

“Well,” Kaito said, putting the screen back where it belonged and deactivating the video camera, “Your perspective is enlightening as ever, tantei-kun. I do appreciate your audience participation.”

“Doesn’t that imply that you specifically called me up on stage to help with a trick?”

“Oh, you think too literally. All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”

“Well, I do know you to be both a player and excessively dramatic, so I think that’s an apt description.”

“At least I can stay in character. You fling yourself between roles like a pinball, blurring the lines between your characters. What’s your motivation? What’s your backstory? Your alibi? What drives you that no one knows about? What skills do you need to learn or forget in order to make two distinct characters?”

“I— what?” That had cracked through his wit almost instantly.

“You know,” Kaito said impatiently. “The way you act around me versus everyone else. You’re clearly a lot smarter than you let on, but the adults won’t listen to you because they’re cowards who can’t handle their pride taking a beating.”

“A-ah. You noticed.” He didn’t seem particularly put out by that, though; if anything, he was surprised, but not unpleasantly so, and was adjusting quickly. If Kaito had to hazard a guess, he’d say that tantei-kun was just accepting the guess as a convenient cover. A cover for what, though? That was more difficult to figure out. Kaito was better with emotions than cold facts. Ugh, the real story was probably sciencey or something boring like that. Maybe tantei-kun was a clone who’d escaped captivity and vowed to uphold the law?

...wait a minute. Wait a minute.

“...since they never seem to save the drama for the stage,” tantei-kun was saying by the time Kaito tuned back in.

“Well, some of us just naturally have a flair for it. Asking for less drama is like caging a beautiful bird, rather than letting it soar freely through the sky!”

“You climbed a building with that gem just to pose for pictures with the gemstone!” tantei-kun insisted. “At the top of a spire!”

“And yet not a single one of those photographers managed to get my good side, tsk.” The incident in question had actually involved him trying to draw out the snipers and show them that the gem they were looking for wasn’t Pandora, and to do so in the most eye catching way possible so that Kaito would be the only target.

“You’re hopeless.”

“That was my intention all along, tantei-kun.” After all, destroying hope— the only thing left in Pandora’s box— would keep the world safe.

“Are you even capable of change? If you were caught, could you even be reformed?”

Kaito leaned in. “I’ll give you a little hint: under the moonlight, hope will bring destruction, but a bringer of peace can also carry destruction. And that brings another opportunity to find hope.”

“Finding hope...a world without hope...destruction...the bringers of peace— they’re your birds, aren’t they?” His eyes widened as he spun towards the outside wall. “Doves!”

“Duck, actually. And stay down unless you want to catch a face full of concrete. No one’s getting hurt tonight.” Kaito threw his black cloak, the one he’d used for dramatic appearances, over tantei-kun’s head, the weight of it knocking him to the floor. Hopefully it would serve a dual purpose of protecting him from the shrapnel and buying Kaito a few more precious seconds. At the very least, he didn’t have to carry it around anymore.

Precisely two seconds later (ugh, he was turning into Hakuba), the blasting charges set by his doves went off, one explosion after another and gradually getting closer with rhythmic frequency. It was, Kaito decided, like the opening instrumental before his dramatic exit. Five, six seven, eight—

“See you next time!” He gave a salute that no one could see and practically skipped away, launching himself through each hole in the wall. It really wasn’t that different from parkour.

He’d asked the doves to place each charge higher than a child would be able to reach, and had them shaped specifically to leave a hole big enough for him to leap through without enough rubble to use as a staircase.

That ought to give tantei-kun a run for his money. As smart as the kid was, he was still too physically small and weak to overcome basic obstacles like that easily. Kaito, on the other hand, was in fine physical condition from being ten years older and running from his problems on a regular basis. He really did have a lot of problems to run from, but finding Pandora would be worth it.

It was with this goal in mind that he took out the real Star Sapphire, not the (admittedly convincing) fake that had been kept in the glass, and held it up to the moonlight. Hm, it was a bit too cloudy to tell tonight. Maybe he should have rescheduled, after all. Well, at least he’d taken a little inspiration from Mother Nature with tonight’s heist.

From the sound of things, tantei-kun was catching up faster than expected. He’d already thrown off the cloak, and a quick glance back revealed that he was climbing through the first wall, eyes gleaming with determination.

“Nice try, but I’m afraid you’re too late.” At the snap of Kaito’s fingers, smoke began to pool in the air behind him, quickly filling in the gap in the wall. It was nearly opaque by the time he turned around, perfect for hiding in. His glider unfurled easily, and then he was off, reveling in the freedom of the air.

Until he felt the familiar impact of a soccer ball colliding with his chest, and he was pretty sure something he felt rupture, leaving his chest feeling strangely empty of air and sticky with warm liquid. 

He swerved, unsure how tantei-kun had managed to hit him when his visibility would have been much too low to even see, let alone target. His breath scraped in and out, labored but not unbearable. A lucky shot, sure, but he could manage it. At least, until a second shot ripped through the fog and shot past his face, tearing right through his hang glider and hitting something up ahead with the crash of breaking glass.

His glider flapped frantically, the wind tearing mercilessly through the torn fabric and screaming in his ears. It was all he could do to steer his uncooperative glider into a row of hedges and brace himself for impact. All that damage… from a soccer ball of all things. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong.

***

Blasting charges? Seriously? 

It was extra, even for Kid. And dangerous, too. Most people wouldn’t trust a thief enough to stay protected from whatever he promised, but Conan had been to enough heists to know when things got serious and he needed to listen. He waited until he heard the fresh wind from the outside to throw off the cloak (Ugh, was it weighted? He hated his seven year old body) and gave chase. 

A line of holes in the walls, like the sort left by a bullet that could be traced to its source using a laser pointer, lead to the open air, and Conan had to quickly grab a chair just to get up to the first one. Kid knew and deliberately played on Conan’s physical disadvantages to buy himself time, didn’t he? When he climbed to the top, standing on the crumbling and charred drywall, he saw the thief meeting his eyes with a smirk.

“Nice try, but I’m afraid you’re too late,” Kid said, unfolding his glider. In a step up from his usual escapes, a massive cloud of smoke billowed from around the window at the snap of his fingers.

And maybe he was right; Conan was too late to give chase, and he couldn’t even see the thief through all the thick fog, but he had managed to stick a tracker on Kid.

And that meant he could target him.

The first soccer ball flew in a straight line and was a direct hit, judging by the muffled thud. Kid veered off his course, still in a controlled flight, until Conan used his second shot.

The tracker plummeted, and for a moment, Conan was sure he’d gone too far, until he realized that no one using a hang glider would make those motions. It must have fallen off, then. He couldn’t track Kid back to his hideout, but at least he’d gotten in a few good hits.

And now was the hard part— trying to explain the situation to the adults. Acting like a little kid again, and being treated like one. Conan sighed, wondering if it said something about his life that he looked forward to these confrontations if only to get a little respect.

***

One of Kaito’s ribs was probably cracked, and at least three more were bruised. And his torso was covered in glitter in a sunburst pattern, and some of it was on his right arm and hand, too. Which wouldn’t normally be a problem, except for the fact that the solvent had been knocked out of his pocket by the same impact that had burst the glitter pouch. Meaning he was stuck being glittery until he could make more. And the chemicals he needed wouldn’t be arriving until next week, and then he’d have to steal them from the delivery truck. Which would not be fun with his current injuries.

Oh. And he’d twisted his ankle from the rough landing, along with a few other scrapes and bruises. He’d actually had to go to the hospital for that one; the official story was that he’d been ice skating, which just added insult to injury. Sure, no one would question it, but it still rankled. He couldn’t even get his ribs checked out for fear of revealing himself.

Ugh.

“What is— wrong with that child?” He complained that evening to Jii-chan, who’d insisted on coming to his house to take care of him. Kaito was surrounded by every pillow he owned and then a few of Aoko’s, and it still felt like his ribcage was going to collapse.

“He still has faith in the law. It’s a rather naive sort of trust, but it’s not fair to hold it against him.”

“Well, yeah, but—” A sharp pain shot through his chest as his lungs decided to throw a fit. “Agh! Did he have to— kick it so hard?”

“Do your breathing exercises, young man. It’ll help.”

“Yeah, yeah, reduce the— risk of infection. I know.” He went through the motions, though, silently lamenting that this was all he could do. This was not going to be a fun month. “Have you noticed— anything unnatural about him?”

 “Edogawa Conan?” Jii-chan took a moment to run a search for him on his laptop; just the basics, and then, judging by his frown, deeper. “That’s strange. Officially, he doesn’t seem to exist.”

“Are you sure?” That didn’t bode well. He’d meant it only half seriously, still hoping there was a less dramatic explanation. Sure, Kaito was prone to dramatics, but he was… well, tantei-kun had become a regular fixture in his life, for better or for worse. Perhaps for worse, he thought as another stabbing pain in his chest left his vision flickering. 

“It may take time to verify, but there don’t seem to be any records. What are you thinking?”

“Just— ow why is everything pain— he…” Kaito had to stop and catch his breath. “Remember... the robot incident?” It made his blood run cold just to mention it, but he… well, he had to be certain. 

Jii-chan paused in his work. “The one in which you were abducted on your way to school?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t know exactly what Jii-chan was doing while he went missing, just that he looked tired and haggard and so relieved to have Kaito back. As for the other matter,;. Kaito never asked and Jii-chan never told. Still, it was a sign of genuine concern— maybe too much. He didn’t want to worry one of the people he cared about over what might have been nothing.

But judging by the expression on Jii-chan’s face, it might be too late.

“Bocchama, it doesn’t do well to dwell on such things. It’s over now. Have you been thinking about it lately? I don’t mind taking over as Kaitou Kid for a while, and I’ve got some lavender—“

“It’s not about that, okay? I’m over— agh. The bad dreams were just— a side effect of whatever weird device that scientist used on my memories. It’s probably fine.”

“Was it?”

“Yes,” Kaito insisted. He didn’t want a repeat of last time, not on the basis of some half baked theory. “I just— need you to research tantei-kun. Some things aren’t lining up.”

“You know if you ever need anything, I’m here, don’t you?” Jii-chan said seriously. 

“Yeah, ‘course I do.” He closed his eyes, fingers clenched around the sheets. “Hey, isn’t it time— for the pain meds?”

“Nine more minutes, technically, but I can fetch them for you now if you need it.”

“Mkay. Thanks.” Normally he hated anything that dulled his senses, but if it dulled the pain as well, maybe he could get to sleep tonight. It had been a long day, but hopefully he’d be able to process everything in the morning.

This would be so much easier if he could just steal a cure for his injuries or something.

Jii-chan set down the pill bottle and water with a soft tap. “Here you are. Please take care of yourself, will you? I wasn’t able to protect your father, but I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe.”

There wasn’t anything for Kaito to say, except, “I know.”

***

The next week of school was frustrating, to say the least. Aoko made fun of him for trying to ice skate, Hakuba implied that maybe Kaitou Kid hadn’t announced any more heists because he’d been injured on the last one, and Akako just offered to heal his ribs in exchange for his immortal soul. Which he had to admit was tempting, but only because of some irrational consequence blindness. At least she didn’t seem terribly surprised when he turned her down. 

He still harbored a petty grudge towards tantei-kun for his injuries and the glitter, but that was buried under a deeper worry that maybe not all was as it seemed.

People said Kaito Kid had a rule: no one got hurt at his heists. The truth was, he’d never set out with any sort of rule like that in mind, but he just hated seeing others in pain. He hated losing people. 

Magicians were supposed to transport their audience into a fantastical world, one where time stood still and reality stepped aside for the illusion. That meant no one died on stage, or anywhere else. Just for one night at a time, Kaito could grant that to others.

And yes, he knew that tantei-kun didn’t play by his rules, but that was fine. Kaito wanted to believe that they had a rivalry, something exciting, something special . Well, not that sort of special, since the ten year age gap shut that option down pretty firmly for Kaito, but still. Something about tantei-kun made him feel like he’d found his equal in a child who refused to believe in magic. Yet he couldn’t help but remember his earlier thought, about the way a child who seemed so firmly grounded in the world of logic had time and time again exceeded the realms of human plausibility without him noticing.

Was it possible that he’d ignored the signs and seen what he wanted to see? That he’d bent reality until the reflections showed him his perfect illusion? He wanted to think otherwise, but his last heist… what tantei-kun did shouldn’t have been possible for a detective. A skilled magician, maybe, but tantei-kun was anything but that.

Something about him had always seemed profoundly logical, the antithesis to magic, but that wasn’t it, was it? Tantei-kun was a magnet for trouble, and had a way of being in just the right place at just the right time. He also had that tranquilizer watch, which was more than any responsible adult would give to a seven year old— actually, where were the responsible adults in his life? 

Up until now, tantei-kun had only seemed to exist during heists, but where did he go? What did he do? The fact that Jii-chan had confirmed his official nonexistence with several of his contacts seemed like a cruel mockery of that belief. It was so easy to forget that while he was tantei-kun, he was also Conan Edogawa. Kaito wasn’t sure what to think or do, but he would figure it out.

Still... if his half-formed suspicions were right, that would mean losing his favorite tiny detective, in a way. And Kaito hated losing people.

***

It started off small; just a few strategically placed bugs and a pair of binoculars. It was by far the easiest surveillance operation Kaito had ever done, minus the hiking. His ribs still ached a bit from that, and Jii-chan had to help him walk near the end, but he reached his vantage point with an hour to spare.

That hour was mainly spent going through all his snacks (he wasn’t sure how Jii-chan had brought an entire tub of chocolate ice cream without it melting, but it was fantastic ) and doing some actual birdwatching. Sure, there were some larger, more exotic birds at the park, but the best sort were the blackbirds who would fight each other over dropped Cheetos and steal shiny things from unsuspecting hikers. They screamed raucously to the sky, flapped their wings to make themselves appear larger, and shamelessly divebombed to take whatever caught their fancy.

Birds after Kaito’s own heart, really

About ten minutes before tantei-kun was due to show up, Kaito did his breathing exercises to clear his lungs, put away the snacks, and asked Jii-chan to set up the receiver, which would be strong enough to pick up the signal but looked like an ordinary cooler. 

For all intents and purposes, the two of them looked like average hikers: a college student who was listening to music and watching the birds, and an older relative who was reading a book on the history of the park. No reason for tantei-kun to suspect anything at all. 

And really, why would he? He and his friends were just out on a hike, enjoying nature, and they were teasing him about how much he stayed inside and read his mystery novels or watched documentary specials on TV. Tantei-kun didn’t deny it, just stuttered out something about wanting to be informed, and changed the subject.

The group of them were really adorable together. It was clear tantei-kun’s act hadn’t fooled them completely, since they all clearly looked up to him, but he seemed to have accepted this. Maybe this was what it was like to have real friends rather than a childhood friend/crush that he constantly lied to, a tsundere witch who tried to enslave his heart as often as she helped, and a pompous detective who was extremely easy to tease on account of his habit of bringing handcuffs everywhere to try and prove the ‘Kaito is Kid’ theory. Last time, Kaito had informed him as politely as possible that no, he wasn’t into this sort of thing, but he might be open to experimentation if Hakuba bought him dinner first, and then Kaito Kid had gone sailing over him, (thanks, mom) and he’d surreptitiously filmed Hakuba’s reaction.

Fun times, fun times, but it wasn’t anywhere near the sort of wholesome friendship tantei-kun had.

And then they found a dead body, and things got a whole lot weirder.

Someone— someone was dead. A mom who wasn’t coming home, and the group she’d been hiking with— her husband, her sister, her brother-in-law, her friend from middle school— well. Tantei-kun said it had to be one of them, and his deductions were almost never wrong.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he muttered.

“Have you been drinking enough water? I told you this was a bad idea, young man. Your injuries still haven’t fully healed, and you shouldn’t aggravate them.”

“No, not like that.” He slipped off his headset and set down the binoculars. “He just… someone was murdered down there. I know tantei-kun is— well, he’s a detective, it’s even in his nickname, but I thought he’d care more!”

“This is concerning indeed. What sort of action would you like to take?”

“None yet. I need to hear more.” Maybe that would explain something, right? Except it didn’t.

It got even worse, when tantei-kun and all of his friends started investigating together. Like there was nothing wrong, like this happened to him every day. And from the discussion he had with his friends, maybe it did. None of them seemed particularly fazed; at least, not nearly as much as they should be. 

Most of them reacted with some degree of surprise or horror at first, but quickly got over it and helped to search for clues. Like this was some sort of game to them. And the Professor just hovered on the sidelines and gave general encouragement.

Kaito thought things would improve when the police arrived, but all of them seemed to be on very good terms with tantei-kun, and continued to let him poke around the crime scene. There was a dead body, for crying out loud! Why was Kaito the only one who was bothered by this?

Yes, he knew he wasn’t the most responsible person. He was flighty and chaotic and committed crimes on a regular basis with no regrets. He blamed his parents for that, honestly. But really, if even Kaito thought something was irresponsible, there were some problems that needed to be addressed.

Was it really— Kaito flinched so hard he nearly dropped the binoculars. His gaze had drifted to the body again. These things had been happening more and more lately, little lapses in the façade he liked to put up. This was going to make his acting harder if he didn’t get it under control.

“Are you all right?”

“Not terribly—” His ribs twinged again, a not-so-subtle reminder of what tantei-kun was capable of. It was strange; they hurt less than before, but felt more malicious somehow.

“Bocchama?”

“I’m not— terribly used to watching murder cases.” Through his headset, he could hear tantei-kun practically interrogating one of the suspects, all without dropping his childlike act. It really was disturbing.

And that didn’t even begin to describe when he used some sort of electronic means to imitate the Professor’s voice and explain his deductions.

Yes, Kaito decided, there was something about tantei-kun that he’d been blind to. And he couldn’t help but remember another pair of eyes so much like his own that stared blankly into the face of death and did not understand it.

Chapter Text

Maybe, Kaito reasoned, he’d have a better time getting a grasp on tantei-kun’s personality if he tried observing him in his natural habitat. It was with this in mind that he decided on his most convincing and least threatening disguise, Aoko, and headed to the library.

Surprisingly enough, it only took two outings— his friends really weren’t kidding about him being an avid reader, huh— before he ran into tantei-kun. Or maybe that wasn’t the right phrase; it would be more accurate to say that Kaito hid behind a bookshelf and watched him. And what he saw was very interesting indeed.

An ordinary person wouldn’t have noticed it, but Kaito did. He saw how tantei-kun dodged other patrons, brought a giant bag to carry his books in, and gathered books when no one was watching. First, a familiar chemistry textbook, the sort that Kaito was using this year in school. Then a supplementary math book on a specific branch of geometry, then one on different types of poisons, and finally one on Greek. After that was a selection of detective novels, although he had a very interesting reaction to a particular series. Kaito couldn’t see which one it was, but he guessed that tantei-kun held some sort of aversion to it, mixed with a grudging respect. Interesting.

Next, he stacked a few of the more age appropriate crime novels on top— books where children ran around and solved thefts that turned out to be misunderstandings, or found lost pets. Tantei-kun seemed to view these with more confusion than distaste, and something else that Kaito couldn’t quite identify. It was more of a cover up than anything.

After all of this was said and done, he waited for the self checkout station to be empty, carefully checked out his books starting from the bottom and working his way up to the less suspicious ones, and finally hefting the entire thing over his shoulder and continuing at a more sedate pace to a tiny nook nestled in a window and partially hidden by a shelf. It looked pretty cozy, if you liked that sort of spot.

Personally, Kaito would have preferred to climb one of the bookcases and read on top of there. He empathized with birds more than anything: swoop down, take what you need, and hide in the highest place possible, like a giant tree. Ooooh, he should get a treehouse sometime! Hm, but there might be bugs. And dirt. White clothing was so terribly difficult to keep clean. He’d managed just fine in the city, but nature was another case entirely.

Silently lamenting the treehouse that was not meant to be, he watched tantei-kun pick one of the mystery novels from the middle of his bag and settle in. He flipped through pages at the speed of a college student with an essay due tomorrow, but with much more enjoyment, and at one point Kaito was pretty sure he fell asleep. There, leaning against the sunny window, hand in his book, he looked almost like a cat in a sunspot. It was kinda cute if you ignored the fact that his book was titled The Knife in the Drawer . 

And that he seemed to be at Kaito’s level of high school curriculum while learning a third language. The former of those two was more worrying than the latter, actually, because it implied that he was at the same level as Kaito and wanted to keep up. What was he doing that for, if not…?

Suddenly the cat comparison seemed far too appropriate. After all, cats were the natural predators of birds.

While tantei-kun napped, Kaito browsed the stacks a bit more, never letting the detective out of his sight for more than a few seconds. He picked out a few books for plausible deniability, holding them carefully so as not to aggravate his ribs. They hadn’t bothered him at all today, and he was hoping they’d continue in that manner.

After a time, maybe twenty minutes or so, something started gently beeping. Tantei-kun woke with a start, crinkling the pages of his book in his confusion, then smoothed them back down, mumbling something to himself. The beeping turned out to be an alarm on his phone, which he switched off after a moment, yawning and rubbing his eyes without removing his glasses.

He never took those off, did he.

Kaito moved casually along the shelf, stopping here and there to remove a book and check the summary before replacing it. He hadn’t read much in years, but had people-watched enough here to get an idea of how to act like a regular patron. No one would suspect an ordinary teenage girl, right?

And then tantei-kun locked eyes with him, recognition flashing across his face, and Kaito’s heart nearly stopped. 

“Hey, hold on!”

Kaito ducked out of the way, pretending he hadn’t heard anything. It was harder to disappear in a public place, especially one without an audience whose attention he could easily direct. Still, maybe a window would work, or he could climb a bookshelf and—

Wait, why was he already trying to disappear? He knew better than this. He was a better actor than this. He was just a little rusty, that was all. He’d been off his game since his injuries took so long to recover from this time. He was fine. He could talk his way out of this one. Just like he always did.

When tantei-kun rounded the corner, Kaito was ready, picking out an entire trilogy from the shelf and adding it to his stack. He turned to the detective with an expression of mild surprise, adjusting his stack to see the child better.

“Ran-nee...oh. Never mind.” Tantei-kun looked disappointed by this realization, and turned away.

“Hang on, kiddo. What did you just call me?” Kaito asked.

“Ah— Ran-neechan. I was tired, and you look a lot like her. That’s all.” He smiled sheepishly, shifting on his feet.

Oh, of course. Now that Kaito thought about it, Aoko and Ran did have similar facial features, but that was about where the resemblance ended. Ran carried herself with confidence and was well groomed, despite having a bizarre spike of hair on one side of her head. She wore makeup regularly, and could easily be mistaken for several years older than she was. She also punched like a freight train, and wasn’t someone you’d cross.

Aoko, on the other hand, was mentally and physically childish. She shared the same stark refusal to touch a hairbrush as Kaito, made petty remarks about his fear of fish, and took delight in teasing him whenever possible, then turned around and loudly denied it whenever her classmates claimed the two of them might have feelings for each other. Sure, there might be something there on Kaito’s side, but he knew it wasn’t exactly something he could address while he was still running around making a fool out of her father.

It was just… so weird to think about Aoko and Ran like that. Because people weren’t just faces, they were mannerisms and speech patterns and postures and reactions. You had to learn all of those in order to convincingly pass as them, so Kaito didn’t think the two girls were that much alike at all.

And maybe because he wasn’t sure he wanted to have that much in common with tantei-kun anymore.

“Hm... I don’t think I know anyone by that name,” Kaito said carefully. “I thought it sounded sort of familiar, but I guess I was wrong. I’m Aoko, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Conan,” he responded.

“Oh, that’s an unusual name. Were your parents not from around here?”

“No, they just travel a lot. I was born and raised in America, but they’re both from Japan originally.”

Kaito hummed thoughtfully. “It must have been a big adjustment, moving all the way from America.”

“Oh, not really! Like I said, my family travels a lot, so I’m used to new things. They just wanted me to have a sense of stability, so they left me here with friends. I don’t mind!”

“Well, it’s good that you’re keeping such a good attitude about it. Is school difficult?”

“It’s weird wearing a uniform every day, I guess.” A pause, one that was just a second too long to be natural. “I’m keeping up with the work, though.”

“You’re not even having trouble with the writing? It must be hard, switching languages. I could never do that.” Tantei-kun’s language skills were rather odd, for someone who claimed to come from America but spoke Japanese like a native and was capable of figuring out complex wordplay. Of course, he could have easily been raised bilingual, but Kaito had noticed most bilingual speakers couldn’t read or write nearly as well in the language they weren’t surrounded by. Which meant if he was really raised in America, he might have spoken Japanese with his family often, but wouldn’t have nearly as many opportunities to practice the language in written form.

“Oh, no! It’s not that hard. My uncle is an author, so I read a lot,” he replied brightly, hefting his bag as if to show off. While it was a rather impressive hoard, his arms were shaking as he did so. Kaito wasn’t sure how he planned to carry it home.

“Really? You must be very smart for your age.”

“It’s nothing special, really,” he said, but still sounded weirdly proud of it. Huh. So he had been using that as a cover for something else.

“What’s your uncle’s name?” Kaito asked. “I’ve been looking for new books to read.”

“You… read,” tantei-kun said, clearly not believing it. That was the expression he had whenever he’d found a clue indicating that something just didn’t quite line up. “Oh, I don’t think you’d like his books. They’re sort of dark and gritty.”

“Fantastic!” Kaito chirped. “I love that sort. Especially when people ask me what I’m reading. They always seem so surprised…”

“Dark and gritty for me, I mean. They might actually be too light for your tastes.”

“Come on, don’t tease me! Worst case scenario, I won’t like them. Here, can you write it down for me?” Kaito took a small notebook from his purse and offered it to tantei-kun, along with a matching pen. 

Tantei-kun hesitated, looking decidedly uncomfortable, but wrote down what was definitely the real thing judging by his body language. 

“He’s pretty famous. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already heard of him. Especially if you really do enjoy the sort of thing you claim to.” His eyes gleamed behind his glasses, cold blue and judgemental.

Okay, this was bad. At any minute, he was going to start pointing out little inconsistencies, like he normally did— hang on. Kaito usually played defense for as long as he could in this sort of situation, but then again, he normally met tantei-kun in the context of heists. What if he went on the offensive, playing to his own strengths? Worth a shot.

“What, you think just because you’re some miniature detective, you have the right to people’s life stories?” Kaito huffed in frustration. “I’ve seen you and your friends around. You know what? Fine. No, I don’t normally read, but I’ve got to do something and I’m falling behind! Do you know what it’s like to be the dumb one of the friend group?”

“I— I didn’t—”

“I’m surrounded by freaking prodigies. So fine, I lied. Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like the pet of the group, okay? And maybe I’ll never be able to catch up, no matter how hard I try, and…” he let himself shed a few tears. “I’m pathetic. I just got called out by a five year old. ”

“You shouldn’t… compare yourself to others, though,” he said, sounding lost.

Kaito sniffled, the perfect image of a distraught teenage girl. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. Not here. Just...”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Tantei-kun was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. “I’m sure you have your own...talents…”

Kaito fled before he could finish. 

***

Yuusaku Kudou. tantei-kun’s uncle, and the father of Shinichi Kudou. It was a relation worth looking into, and one which he passed along to Jii-chan. He was also the author of the book series tantei-kun had reacted so interestingly to, although it was still hard to say why.

His books made excellent research material, in any case. Kaito breezed through the entire series in a week, taking careful notes. This was good stuff; even if he hadn’t intended it, tantei-kun had provided him with an excellent resource.

But also… it instilled a healthy fear of detectives into him. He knew it was just fiction, of course, but he’d never realized before exactly how observant and analytical they were. No wonder tantei-kun saw through several of his disguises; as good as he was, he’d need to brush up on his acting skills. Allow the roles he inhabited to be flawed people, and prepare for every contingency.

The stunt he’d pulled at the library had been a good idea, and definitely one he might reuse. All this time he’d been playing on the wrong field, going at this head on, but his specialty was approaching problems sideways. He knew if people were flustered enough, they forgot about the important things like the truth.

He wondered if machines could really feel flustered.

The deeper he found himself falling into this case, the more he found himself in conflict. On one side was his fear of being contained, and on the other a sort of affection for tantei-kun born of familiarity.

He’d taken a step back, but now that he’d seen the bigger picture, it was more than he’d bargained for. He didn’t want to lose anyone, didn’t want to have to find out, and maybe it was childish of him. But it still didn’t change who he was and what he wanted deep down. No one gets hurt.

But...if he was right about this, then ignoring the signs meant that someone might get hurt. Someone had gotten hurt the last time. Someone had been killed, and even if Kaito didn’t know or even particularly like his kidnapper, he didn’t think the man deserved to die. 

And in such a brutal fashion, too. He’d gotten a glimpse of the autopsy over Hakuba’s shoulder, and hadn’t even known it was possible for a human to be murdered in that way. Kaito shuddered just thinking about it. Sure, he’d been calm and collected at the time, but the aftermath had been rough.

In any case, all of that reading had given him a good idea of where to continue his investigation, which, thankfully, didn’t involve stalking an apparent seven year old. Hopefully he could get this over with and put his suspicions to rest, once and for all.

But of course, it meant going back to that place.

***

Conan was still tired when he woke up the next morning.

It was something he was getting used to, really; after being shrunk, he was still discovering his body’s limitations. One of which was that he apparently needed a lot more sleep, and the weird unease he’d been feeling lately wasn’t exactly conducive to that. He chalked it up to his detective instincts being turned up to eleven and stuck there. It happened sometimes, and was better than being caught off guard, but it was still irritating. Especially when it led to him accidentally falling asleep at the library because he’d been sleep-deprived and the sun had been so relaxing he forgot where he was. He’d lost some of his valuable uninterrupted reading time, even if his nap had been quite refreshing.

Of course, he mused while brushing his hair, it could have a legitimate cause. That happened too, but he didn’t have any evidence at this point. Ironically, being constantly on alert might make him more vulnerable if someone really was watching him, or it could interfere with his ability to solve cases. He might have to wait this one out and see what happened.

Lamenting his lack of available caffeine, Conan headed down the stairs to breakfast. Kogoro was still asleep, and most likely would be until midday, but Ran was already making breakfast for the two of them.

“Good morning, Conan-kun! Did you sleep all right?”

“Yeah!”

“Are you sure about that?” She peered at him suspiciously, tilting his head to get a better angle. “You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping well. You haven’t been up late reading again, have you?”

“Ah, I must have lost track of time. You know how things...happen…” he chuckled nervously, hoping she would chalk up his blush to being embarrassed by his bad habits rather than her holding his face and paying him such close attention.

“All right, all right. Just don’t make a habit of it. But speaking of books...” Ran finally let him go, and folded her hands in front of her. “One of the librarians said you made a girl run away from you crying yesterday. Is that true?”

“Her story wasn’t adding up, but when I called her out on it—”

“Stop it!” She exclaimed suddenly. “Just because you’re in that club of yours doesn’t mean you need to pry into everyone’s business, especially if it’s that personal.”

“I tried to apologize!” Conan protested. 

“She was just looking for books ! Is that a crime worth investigating now?”

“I had a suspicion—“

“And you hurt her feelings!” she continued. “You can’t be suspicious of everyone you meet, okay? It’s not healthy for anyone. Even if you do seem to run into quite a few crimes…”

“Ran-neechan?”

She sighed, motioning for him to sit down. “I know it must be hard, being surrounded by crime. Sometimes it feels like all people do is lie, and steal, and murder each other in increasingly convoluted ways. Believe me, I get it. Dad tries his best not to bring his work home, but I’ve seen bits and pieces. Sometimes I’ve been involved. And I know you’re strong— you’re stronger than I was for sure— but you need to know that you’re not alone. You can say something if this is bothering you, okay?”

“I’m doing okay, really. But I will talk to you if I’m having trouble.”

“It doesn’t have to be me. You have people in your life who you can trust, and you need to start opening up to them. I know you try to hide it from me, but it’s all right  if you’re not okay with all of this. I know you’re growing up faster than normal, and…” She let out a shaky breath. “And it scares me sometimes, okay? I don’t want to watch you go through it, but I get the feeling it’s been happening longer than you’ve been here.”

This was exactly the kind of thing he’d wanted to avoid by keeping his identity secret. But no matter what he tried, he always upset her, and it was so hard to tell whether he was helping or just hurting. It felt cruel to keep her in the dark, but he knew that telling her wouldn’t be simple or pretty either. He didn’t want to hurt her, he just… didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what lying would even do at this point. He was so tired of making Ran cry.

“You’re a lot like your cousin, you know?” Ran said wistfully. “Always running into trouble. But you need to take some more time to just be a kid. You’re only young once, so don’t squander it on mysteries, okay?”

Conan hoped his wince wasn’t visible. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you try to arrange something relaxing with your friends?”

Because last time we tried that, a woman was murdered in the woods and I literally tripped over the body, he wanted to say, but didn’t. “There’s a new arcade we’ve been meaning to visit,” he offered.

“That’s a good idea. Need money?”

“No, I’ve been saving my allowance.”

“Pretty smart. I used to spend all my money on sweets when I was your age.”

“I guess it’s a good thing the library’s free.”

“Not if you keep checking out books like that! One of these days you’re going to get some nasty late fees if you forget to return them in time.”

“But I don’t mind supporting the library.”

“I swear, every time you go there you check out so many books you can barely walk home.”

“So? I like reading.”

They continued like this for a while, mindlessly tossing harmless conversation topics around, until Kogoro stumbled in and brought with him the implication that yes, time continued to pass. Both of them had school, and needed to finish getting ready. Still, before they parted ways, Ran ruffled his hair and smiled at him. “Remember what I said, will you?”

“I’m going to be okay.” He touched her hand, just for a moment, before it was gone. “I know I’m not alone.”

Even then, even with that knowledge, he still felt farther away from her than ever before. The door shut behind her, and Conan trudged back to his room, shutting the door behind him.

He was so tired of this.

***

For once, Kaito was cautious. Rational, even. He waited for his ribs to fully heal first, much to Jii-chan’s relief, and made sure to restock everything he needed and more. It took a few robberies, these ones under the cover of darkness and without a trace, to get all the materials, and several more late nights in his father’s chemistry lab to mix everything. If nothing else, he had enough supplies to last him almost a year if he paced himself.

The glitter on his ribs was long gone; he had ample quantities of the solvent in reserve, and had tested several new concoctions on a brief heist that he’d held just to get back into the swing of things. It had comforted him, to hear the cheers of his fans and the enraged shouts of the police, to hold a gemstone in his hand in the moonlight. His target was a massive topaz of a comforting weight; not Pandora, sadly, but a sign of a familiar routine. He mailed it back that same night, since the exhibit was due to pack up and return to Switzerland the next day and he held no grudge against the owners, and then he was ready.

The very next night, he suited up and headed out, using a dark cloak and hang glider to avoid attention. Even if the place had once been isolated enough for an elderly man to carry an unconscious teenager in with no questions asked, it was now the source of urban legends and hearsay. People might not come near it except on a dare, but they would notice anything unusual, and they’d talk, and their whispers would reach the wrong ears. 

Going as Kaitou Kid was a risky move, and he certainly could have kept a lot more plausible deniability if he’d just gone as himself, but it was something he had to do.

Besides, the suit provided all the protection he needed. It may have been just silk, but Kaito wore it like armor. He’d been caught unawares in his school uniform, but phantom thieves were simply never caught. They were impervious, and he’d continue to believe that until proven otherwise beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Ducking under the faded police tape and entering of his own volition should have felt empowering, like he was coming back to claim what had been stolen, but instead he was left with a lingering sense of unease. Someone had died here, after all.

Someone could die here again.

He’d been called a specter due to his unsettling habit of appearing and disappearing at will, but never had he felt more like a ghost than now. He allowed his footfalls to become audible, to prove to himself, if no one else, that he was alive and solid and real and here. He was human .

In the corner of his vision, something flickered. It was nothing at all when he turned to look.

Through doors and hallways and a labyrinth of passages that he recorded in his head, making a mental map of the place, he found his nerves growing. It was easy to trick an audience into seeing him as charismatic and infallible, but much harder when the only audience was himself and the ghosts of long ago. After all, Kaito was the only one who couldn’t see his poker face.

It was fine. Everything was fine. He’d be in and out with the information he came for. That’s what he told himself as he entered the largest room yet, one that he’d revisited a thousand times in his head. An eidetic memory had its drawbacks, he’d discovered. Occasionally things became faded or blurred, but never this place. It was as if he’d never left.

Kaito peeled back a glove and pinched himself on the wrist. Not a dream.

On a whim, he flipped a light switch, and the entire place came to life with a dull roar. The fluorescent strips in various states of decay flickered wanly, making weak buzzing sounds. It gave the impression that the room was in perpetual motion, with shadows dancing across the floor and blinking in and out of existence. Colored lights traveled unflinching across humming machines, and a loose connection that remained stubbornly just outside his peripheral vision sparked every few seconds.

It was just the backup generator, he knew.  The power had been cut long ago, but of course there would be a contingency plan. There always was.

A fine layer of dust coated the machinery, but otherwise it was just like he remembered. The column in the center, innocuous among the bells and whistles surrounding it, seemed to draw his gaze like a center of gravity. A centrifuge, several microscopes, a filing cabinet with folders in no discernible order. A cabinet full of chemicals, labeled in sloppy handwriting. Sticky notes with formulas and hygiene reminders, placed with equal reverence. Tangled wires spilling from tubs with sickening disorder, bolts dropped on the floor and forgotten.

Why did it all come back to this? 

He was just out of practice, that was all. He continued his search, careful not to touch anything, moving in a spiral. Notebooks with acronyms and numbers in a system that very well could have been a foreign language for all he understood it, dogeared engineering journals from every age. A cup that had once held coffee. Then, finally, something he recognized from a lesson on genetics.

He’d seen this exact model before, in an educational video episode. Normally he was bored out of his mind in class and liked to cause a little chaos to spice things up, but this had been one of the few things that interested him. He’d sat down at his desk like a normal person and watched the host explain in (only slightly patronizing) terms how it worked. How it could break down the information from molecules in a person’s genetic code and translate that to real variables, like projected height and weight, blood type, skin tone, hair and eye color. Everything…. Everything needed for...

The monitor clearly indicated that his DNA had been taken for analysis, but the chamber in which it was stored was empty. The police couldn’t have taken it— no, if they had, then his career would be long over. That left some unknown third party, someone who’d known about this experiment and swooped in to give it a second try using the perfect genetic material, found completely by chance.

There was a very real possibility that someone was using his DNA to remake the first experiment, and given the evidence Kaito had already gathered, it was looking more and more likely that tantei-kun was it.

It’s my job to bring you down, he’d said. Like it was something someone else had told him.

He didn’t understand death, and struggled to comprehend emotions. He had mental and physical abilities far beyond any child’s, rivaling even Kaito’s, and no legal proof that he existed at all. Not to mention he bore a strong resemblance to Kaito as a child, a similarity that had seemed charmingly dramatic but now stood for something far more sinister.

Kaito knew he’d need to start building his case somewhere, but if he was right…

He wasn’t safe. He hadn’t been for a long time, and wouldn’t be until he put an end to this, one way or another.

Chapter Text

Touichi Kuroba’s secret room, by all rights, didn’t exist. And for eight years, maybe it hadn’t, just like the old riddle: if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears, does it make a sound?

For all intents and purposes, the room had lain nonexistent, unaffected by neither the passage of time nor the constraints of space as it waited to be discovered. Time that was sealed away for Kaito to grow up before he claimed his birthright, he knew. One last trick from the great magician.

Even a detective would struggle to find it, which made it the perfect place for Kaito to conduct his investigation.

He dragged a cork board to the back, found his old set of miniature throwing knives to use as pins, and gathered all the spools of red ribbon he could find. A quick internet search was enough to find surprisingly few pictures of tantei-kun, and a deeper look turned up one more. He tried changing his location to somewhere in America and searching for English results, but that yielded absolutely nothing. Almost like he’d never been there in the first place.

A check of his email confirmed it-- Jii-chan had sent his findings, and there was no mention of Conan Edogawa anywhere until a few months ago. And the records had proven that his family relations were fake, but the Kudou family, rather conveniently, wasn’t around to prove it. The parents were… overseas, running from their responsibilities but somehow fulfilling them all just fine, which was a policy Kaito could get behind. Meanwhile, Meitantei had simply dropped off the grid, only showing up sporadically. A little further digging had revealed he was on a case of some sort, but that was where the trail grew too faint. He didn’t seem like he’d be sticking around long enough to uncover the deception anytime soon, sadly.

Well. Kaito couldn’t deny he felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of facing off against Meitantei again— the flair and competence with which he’d introduced himself was thus far unmatched by any other opponent. The idea of another meeting got his heart racing— and Kaito wasn’t the only one who felt this way, either. Apparently Meitantei was quite popular with the ladies, and well renowned for his skills— which made him the perfect relation to claim in order to gain credibility.

After all, Kaito had similar facial features as Meitantei, and tantei-kun by extension could easily pass for a relative. He could just use his “cousin’s” name to exploit existing connections, with no one around to contradict him. A detective cousin and an author uncle would easily give him an excuse for knowing all sorts of unlikely and criminal information.

Doesn’t officially exist, maybe was never in America, lied about family, he wrote carefully on a piece of paper before tossing it up and pinning it to the board with a dull thunk. So he hadn’t lost his touch, then. These knives had seemed a lot bigger when Dad taught him how to use them.

Next: physical abilities. The first robot had been decidedly subtle, exposing its wires and inner workings at the slightest prompting, but tantei-kun had never done any such thing. Still, the force with which he could kick a soccer ball— where did those come from, anyways?— was nowhere near natural. He always pressed a button on his tennis shoes before doing so— the same tennis shoes he’d always worn, Kaito realized. Where did he keep getting the soccer balls from, though?

And his tranquilizer watch was nowhere near bulky enough for its purpose; somehow it managed to be like a tiny computer, functional timekeeper, and weapon all in one.

No one but Jii-chan’s inventor friend could produce such a sleek design, and even then, Kaito didn’t think that person would do it. Playing both sides didn’t make much sense...unless the watch was just a cover, and most of the bulky electronics needed to run it were actually inside tantei-kun’s arm. Kaito didn’t think he’d ever seen the detective remove his watch, now that he thought about it. 

Maybe it was built in. It looked like a piece of technology being worn by an ordinary human child, but in reality, it was a part of him made to look like that. The shoes might be the same way, or at least something similar. Especially if he’d been constructed in American culture, where people just wore their shoes inside their houses for some insane reason. So… that meant tantei-kun would have been built overseas, and given enough time to adjust the programming so that he had a moral code that prevented him from killing his creator like the first one. America was a huge country, and it would be easy to hide a child.

Can produce soccer balls from nowhere

Kicking force is greater than it should be

Tranquilizer watch might be built in?

Struck by a sudden flash of inspiration, Kaito grabbed the few pictures he’d printed out and dashed back into the house— then tripped and fell down the stairs, because of course he’d forgotten about his ankle being sprained. He set a timer on his phone, laid there wallowing in self pity for fifteen minutes, then limped his way to the fridge to get an ice pack. Stupid injuries slowing him down. Augh.

Next came a fun round of which will impede me more: the sheer pain of injuries being exacerbated by an impromptu trip down a flight of stairs, or medication that will alleviate pain but leave me somewhat high and not fully capable of logical reasoning? It was a rather intense game, despite appearing to an outsider like he was just sitting at the kitchen table and squinting at a pill bottle. This was eventually resolved when he passed out on said table, slept for three hours, and woke with his spine feeling like an arthritic bone snake that was struggling to digest a mouse. Oops.

Trying to pop his back reminded his ribs that they were also broken and should act accordingly, which meant causing him as much pain as possible. After multiple attempts and several small pops punctuated by whispered swears and gasps of pain, he gave up.

What was he supposed to be doing again?

 Oh yeah. Looking for the photo albums, which were on... the bottom shelf, because of course they were. And there were quite a few of them. His mom was the sentimental type, after all; she’d kept a photographic record of his childhood, at least until she deemed him self sufficient enough to stay at home while she traveled. If he checked the dates, he could find one where he was the same age…

Ah. Dad was still around and in photographs. There was a reason Kaito didn’t touch these albums, but he’d pushed it to the back of his mind. It was easier to remember his father as a magician, as his mentor, his predecessor. It was harder to see him in those moments when he wasn’t wearing his poker face. When he was just Kaito’s dad.

Spreading the photographs of Conan around him, he set to work. He could have done it on a table, of course, but it would be better to keep this all contained at the source. Also, he wasn’t sure if he could get back down once he stood up.

He decided to start early rather than later and picked out an album with a green spine, a very specific shade of green that had apparently been in style that year. Kaito found it unappealingly ambiguous, not quite avocado and not quite lime green, but something in between with far too much yellow, though he supposed he hadn’t inherited his taste from mom.

He flipped through, resisting the temptation to stop and reminisce because that was his first successful time doing the flower trick, or that’s when he got his first lockpick set. He’d been so proud of it, with its color coded handles... of course, he’d been even prouder when he got his second one. It was so grown up looking, and dad had been so—

Nope. Not going there. He flipped a few pages back, overshot, and took a deep breath to steady his hands. It wouldn’t do for a thief to let his sentiments interfere with his task. His father had taught him that a magician should always conceal his true feelings from the audience, but he had never been very good at hiding his feelings when he was alone. Maybe it said something about his attention seeking tendencies? Who knew.

Returning to the search, Kaito found a picture from his seventh birthday and bookmarked it with a finger, then started flipping through, paying careful attention to the faces from different angles. 

It was the glasses that were throwing him off. They dominated tantei-kun’s face, but upon closer inspection, didn’t even seem to work. Kaito knew illusions; he knew how light could be bent, and how to do it. He knew what refraction should look like, and saw none of it. Tantei-kun’s glasses did nothing for his vision— but everything for his disguise. Like Kaito’s hat and monocle, it was a little thing that did so much. It was a classic trick, but it only raised more suspicion. Tantei-kun had claimed he feigned childishness because he was mature for his age and didn’t like attention, but this proved beyond a shadow of a doubt he was hiding something else. Why hide your face unless you were afraid of being recognized?

Still...now that he knew how the glasses worked, he could set aside his bias, forcibly ignore the parts they concealed, and form a clear picture of Conan’s face without them. It was exactly the same as seven year old Kaito’s. As if Conan had been cast from the same mold. Of course, that would only make sense if he had. The first scientist stole Kaito’s DNA; it would make sense that the new scientist who was probably building off his predecessor’s work couldn't change the fundamentals easily enough to make this version look like a different person, so they’d just decreased the age. 

It was a clever move to avoid suspicion; no one would think a child was capable of murder or world domination. Maybe the strong, nigh unwavering faith in the law was part of that. He was fairly certain he’d read a science fiction novel where machines followed something like a hippocratic oath in order to prevent them from taking over. But… after breaking his ribs, Kaito wasn’t exactly sure if that rule applied to tantei-kun.

He gathered the best photos of himself that showed the similarities between his face and Conan’s, made copies for his board (ow standing was pain why was his life like this), and carefully replaced the entire album exactly where he found it. He even went so far as to wipe his fingerprints off and reapply dust where it had been displaced by his touch. To any observer, even a detective, there was nothing to suggest he’d been looking through his photos.

Was it paranoid of him to take precautions of this magnitude in his own house? Maybe in any other case, but not where Conan was concerned. If anything, it wasn’t paranoid enough. 

He took a quick glance outside before firmly shutting the curtains and re-entering the secret room. (Why was the secret entrance like this. Why. This was a terrible idea in so, so many ways. His ankle could not handle all of that falling.)

So. There were the physical similarities— he made a label for that, then stuck it in the middle of the board, then wondered why he was doing this with throwing knives. Wouldn’t pins be a lot easier? How did he own throwing knives, but not pushpins?

Whatever. He still had his list of suspicious things about tantei-kun from before he’d left to look through photos.

He added these points to the board in the same way, then stepped back, taking in the effect like one might a painting. (Well, as a person with a great appreciation of art might do so. Kaito wasn’t uncultured by any means, but he was more likely to inspect behind the painting, or on rare occasions, inside of it. That’s where all the good stuff was hiding.)

“Needs more evidence…”

***

This is relaxing, Conan told himself. The all concealing half-light was fine, the unpredictable noises were fine, the eye strain was fine, the grooming children for gambling was fine-- wow, Ran was right. He really did need a break.

He rubbed his eyes, careful not to dislodge his glasses. It would be nice if he could get some coffee, but sadly all he was allowed was soda and other sugary drinks. Bleagh. Maybe he could pick up some dark chocolate later on. Not a very childish thing, but it would be worth it.

“Look! They’ve got a bunch of racing games!”

“Ooh, I want to try that one!”

“Hey, look at the prizes!”

Well. Conan’s lips curled into a small smile. This was actually relaxing; spending time with his friends was one of the few genuine and peaceful joys he had. Yes, compromises were made, but Ran had a point in more ways than one. He’d spent the first time around wanting to grow up as fast as possible, but now that he was a kid again, maybe he’d get to savor the best parts.

Conan drifted from one machine to the next, always staying close to one of the detective boys. Between his mediocre coordination and analytical mind, it was a toss up whether he’d do well or not on any given game. He wasn’t very practiced at video games, having eschewed them for more productive hobbies, but found them oddly relaxing once he got into the swing of things.

Where he really shone, though, was the pinball machine. He had enough experience calculating angles that he ended up spending the better part of an hour racking up tickets, while Ayumi and Genta watched him in awe. Mitsuhiko, on the other hand, excused himself to the other side to keep collecting tickets on his own.

Eventually, Conan’s money ran out, and he gathered his tickets and watched Mitsuhiko play for a little while. The dim lights made him want to take another nap, so he entertained himself by counting his tickets. For one afternoon, it was pretty good, maybe even enough for one of the middle shelf prizes.

“Show-off. How’d you get so many?” Mitsuhiko muttered, his attention split between the screen and the bundle in Conan’s hands.

“Huh?” Conan blinked at his collection; he supposed there were a lot, at least compared to Mitsuhiko’s stash, but it was more of a stress reliever for him than anything competitive. “I’ve just been saving my allowance for a long time. It’s not a huge deal. Why, are you aiming for one of the prizes?”

“Maybe,” was all he’d say on the matter.

“Good luck!” Not wanting to distract or upset his friend any more, he decided to see what Genta and Ayumi were doing.

Someone was behind him. Conan whipped around, taking a step back and then stumbling another until he slammed into the corner of an arcade machine.

“Are you all right, kid? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” The arcade employee extended a hand, and Conan took it gingerly.

“That’s okay. I’ve been jumpy anyways.”

“Is that so.” The man’s eyebrow twitched slightly. “I wonder why that is.”

“I...don’t know.” He had the familiar feeling like there was something just out of reach, but wasn’t sure where the feeling was coming from or what he was missing. “Eh, probably too many scary books!”

“Ah, of course. You kids these days and your obsession with horror.” The employee smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, enjoy your time here!”

“I will!” Conan smiled brightly, but dropped it as soon as the man’s back was turned.

His vest is frayed at the edges as if he’s had it for years, but he walks like he isn’t completely familiar with the layout. Is he an old or new employee? Why did he turn and walk the other way after talking to me? Where was he going in the first place?

Nope. Ran had told him to be a kid for once, and he was going to make her not need to worry, dang it. That meant not investigating strangers unless a crime has been committed. Besides, he still had his tickets to redeem. And he had to figure out what he wanted to buy. With that in mind, he pushed his suspicions aside and joined the other Detective Boys at the counter, pacing and taking in all of his options.

Eventually, he selected an owl plushie for himself— it would make Ran happy to see him acting like a normal, happy kid for once. Besides, he liked owls. Maybe it was the symbolism, or the book on learning Greek that had included cultural anecdotes and mythology snippets, but he thought owls were rather appropriate for him. He still had plenty left, so he offered them to the rest of his friends.

Genta spent his tickets on candy, predictably enough, and Mitsuhiko bought a sharp blue notebook for himself and an oversized, fluffy cat plush for Ayumi. Ayumi spent the tickets she’d earned to get a pack of pencils for Mitsuhiko, ones decorated with the Rutherford model of the atom. It was actually a bit tacky that the general public still associated such outdated imagery with nuclear science, but Mitsuhiko looked like he was about to cry from joy at the gift.

So that’s why he’d been upset that Conan was getting more tickets than him. Well, in any case, looking at their exchange of gifts, Mitsuhiko had nothing to worry about. It took some of the pressure off Conan as well; Ayumi was a wonderful friend, but he just couldn’t return her affections. 

By the time the four of them left the arcade, he was in much higher spirits than before, and had almost forgotten about the strange encounter. Almost.

***

I can’t believe I’m doing this .

And yet, there he was. Stalking a group of children. One of whom probably wasn’t a child at all. He’d never really minded breaking the law-- after all, it was put in place for mediocre reasons at best. If anything, it was like a speed bump, was put in place to slow people down, Bringing the police in on this would require far too much time and attract far too much attention, maybe even put people in danger and open the way for spies. Best to keep his operation small, light, and secret; he could beg forgiveness later.

But this? This was actually uncomfortable. He’d seen tantei-kun as a rival, maybe even a potential friend if they could get past that pesky issue of the law. How could he have been so wrong?

Maybe Kaito really was more like Aoko than he wanted to believe. Ignoring the truth right in front of him because he wanted to believe he wasn’t so alone. Before this, he’d only had Hakuba and a rotating cast of greedy old rich men to match wits against. Every now and then, there would be a pleasant surprise, but tantei-kun forced him to pull out all the stops. It was both frustrating and exhilarating, but he’d chosen to view it as the latter more often than not. He’d chosen his reality, partially aware of what lurked beneath the illusion but unable to accept it.

Tantei-kun knew that Kaito knew. He was starting to get suspicious, with glares and calculating gazes that lingered too long. The trick he’d pulled at the library wouldn’t work again, and every disguise of his had fallen apart soon enough under his doppelgänger’s scrutiny. On top of that, his nerves were starting to crack through his poker face— he handled pressure well in short bursts, but weeks on end were taking their toll.

He’d seen, even in the dim light of the arcade, how quickly his disguise had been sized up and dissected; he’d broken character in an ameteur way that he’d never thought possible for him, and he’d panicked and left, returning his disguise to the employee who was knocked out in the bathroom.

Over the course of a week, he tried again and again to get close enough to observe tantei-kun, with stolen and constructed identities. A foreign tourist asking for directions. A drunken businessman in the street who mistook tantei-kun for someone else. The barista who served him ice coffee. A middle schooler who wanted to talk about video games in the store. A woman in the grocery store parking lot whose cart had been overturned. Another face in the crowd, time and time again, watching and waiting. Nothing substantial, never enough evidence for either of them to prove anything.

Tantei-kun seemed to have a “Kid sense” of sorts; he’d perk up like a predator who’d caught a scent, then study everyone in his surroundings with incredible speed, expressions flickering across his face too quickly to process, then he’d lock on— usually to Kaito’s disguise, but occasionally to someone else who always turned out to be a suspect in whatever violent crime he was investigating. Most of the time, he’d turn away, finding whoever was escorting him and guiding them away from Kaito.

It was just a taunt. But like an addict, Kaito kept coming back for more, his disguises slipping further each time, the latex rolling at the edges, the wigs askew, contacts shifting. Every time he swore he was fine, and then the moment he met tantei-kun’s gaze, he was acutely aware of every flaw and imperfection.

It was as if, behind his glasses, tantei-kun was looking into his soul. He’d scowl like he always did when confronted with a mystery he couldn’t yet solve, except this time Kaito knew the solution. It didn’t end well for him.

Those eyes . He couldn’t escape those eyes, no matter what he did.

***

“Haibara, do you ever get this weird feeling someone’s watching you even though you know it’s probably nothing?”

“Every moment of every waking day, yes. Why?”

“... I think I’m going to go ask someone else.”

***

Kaito was acting all the time now.

It was as if he was living his life on stage, solitude his only curtain. Acting wasn’t terribly hard; it was fun, even, but it was only in matters regarding Kaito Kid that he had to keep it up. Otherwise, he could switch between roles whenever he pleased. Except now, he was trying to convince everyone around him that he was fine, that nothing was wrong, that his hands didn’t shake so badly he broke several dishes when he tried to cook for himself. After that, he’d given up and stolen some takeout, not even wanting to deal with the obligatory human interaction of purchasing it.

He started laughing aloud when he thought of what Nakamori would think if he saw the famous thief Kaitou Kid, struggling to eat stolen takeout, and then couldn’t stop. It wasn’t even funny or anything.

He wasn’t breathing right. There were flecks of grease on his normally immaculate school shirt, even though he prided himself on being a master of keeping white clothing clean, and he wasn’t breathing right. He blamed his ribs. They hadn’t bothered him in a week. He couldn’t breathe.

He really liked that takeout place. He’d have to try and give them some publicity to make up for their lost revenue. He could have just left cash, of course, but Kaito was the most extra person he knew and never did anything by halves.

He wondered if his murder would be equally spectacular. That was a sobering thought, but somehow he knew it would happen. After all, there could only be one Kuroba Kaito, and sooner or later that would be remedied. By a detective who knew exactly how to play a crime scene, no less. There wouldn’t be any witnesses, and it was just a matter of time before it happened. No one would believe him if he tried warning them.

He was going to asphyxiate right here and now if he didn’t get a grip. Kaito reached for his deck of cards, trying to run through the familiar motions of a few card tricks he sometimes did to calm himself, but ended up spilling the entire deck onto the floor.

Dad would be so ashamed if he saw him now.

***

When his phone started ringing, Kaito managed to peel himself halfway off the floor, inadvertently taking several playing cards with him, and fumble around on the table until he knocked his phone to the floor.

Which was fine. Everything was fine. He felt like death warmed over and he’d probably be dead soon and just couldn’t find the strength to care anymore. His takeout was cold and lumpy and he’d opened one of the boxes earlier and seen a flash of scales and instantly reduced his potential meal by half, tossing that one into the trash. 

It took four tries to hit the right button and accept the call. Fitting.

“Bocchama? Are you there?”

“Yeah?” He was technically ‘there’ if by there you meant lying on the kitchen floor and having multiple crises at once, but he wasn’t sure he was mentally all there. It felt like three quarters of his brain had deserted him, and what was left was too busy freaking out to be of any use.

“Are you all right? Have you been taking your painkillers?”

“I’m fine, Jii-chan. Honestly, you worry too much.” He’d slipped into his ‘exasperated teenager’ persona as easily as flinching. He sort of wished he hadn’t.

“I’m only worried because I care for you. I know it’s hard putting heists on hold, but I’m proud of you.”

Ahhhhhh. That. Well, at least his acting was still good enough to fool someone.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s still annoying me, though. I’m starting to go stir crazy without any action.” A thought occurred to him then. “I’ve had a lot of time to think, you know. About my next heist, and what I’m going to do. I’ve been feeling like my repertoire is getting stale, you know? I’d like to incorporate some new tricks, but I don’t think my current tools of the trade are going to cut it. I might want to make some new ones.”

There was a pleased hum from the other end. “It’s good to see you taking a bit more responsibility. I do worry about your recklessness, you know. How would you like to meet the person who’s been making your supplies for you? He only knows that you’re a magician, not Kaitou Kid, but I think you might appreciate working alongside him to come up with something new. Be careful, will you? He’s quite brilliant, but his inventions have a tendency to explode.”

“Well, maybe if I add some glitter and confetti to the mix, it’ll be perfect!” Kaito said brightly.

“Or you could lose an eyebrow.”

“You worry too much! The blasting charges worked fine the last time.” Kaito let out an exaggerated sigh. No, too exaggerated. He was losing his touch. “All right. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good. How’s your ankle? You mentioned your ribs were feeling better, but is your ankle causing you any trouble?”

Oh, that. He’d honestly almost forgotten about his ankle; sure, it bothered him when he walked, but he had a decent enough pain tolerance to deal with it. At least it didn’t hurt whenever he so much as breathed.

“It’s fine . It’s healed perfectly.”

“Good. I was worried, you know, after you insisted on hiking with it.”

“It was an opportunity I didn’t want to miss!” He switched hands, pushing himself up to a sitting position. It was hard to tell if he was actually coping or shoving it down like usual. “You know how I am with research.”

“And what have you found about your rival?”

He was not coping; he was most definitely not coping. Kaito took a deep breath and shut down his emotions, focusing on the callouses of his fingers. He needed a convincing lie, he needed to keep this to himself until it was safe to tell. “I’m not sure what to think about it. I had to dig into some disturbing stuff. The kid sees a lot of murders.”

“I’ve noticed you haven’t been yourself lately.” Yeah, his acting skills had definitely been slipping as of late. “Your father had that same expression occasionally, when he couldn’t stand being a thief for that organization anymore. Near the end, I suspected he’d found something he shouldn’t have.”

“You don’t think he left any clues about that, do you?”

“If there were any, he would have left them to you in his secret room.”

“Right.” He was no closer to the truth than he’d ever been. “Well, I’m bound to find something on one of my heists, right? Maybe if I go help your friend with his inventions, that will help get the ideas flowing and I can start planning my next one.” 

“An excellent idea, bocchama. I’ll send you his address and let him know you’ll be stopping by.”

“Sounds good to me!” Kaito dropped the call before he could let anything slip and collapsed back on the floor, the ceiling above him swimming in circles. He really was falling apart at the seams, wasn’t he. He’d achieved nothing with his heists but making enemies, he had no one he trusted enough to listen without overreacting, and now he was losing his mind over the thought that he was probably going to be killed.

It wasn’t as if it hadn’t occurred to him before, but he’d never taken it seriously. He’d never needed to. After all, it’s not arrogance if you really are that good, right? Except there were two instances when he wasn’t good enough, and they’d merged into something of a monster born of his insecurities. And he’d shown his true colors. Weak. Scared. 

Was this it? Was he just going to waste away? Curl up and wait to die at the first hint of trouble?

No. He was Kaitou Kid ; he had a legacy to keep and a job to complete. Even if his emotions were out of control, he knew better than this. Dad had taught him better than this. He could make a plan, he could sort this out. After all, he’d never lost, no matter how close he came sometimes.

Jii-chan was right; something new to exercise his mind would help shake him out of this funk and clear his head long enough to get the job done.

***

“...might need repairs more often. Last time I tried to kick something that hard, I nearly broke my foot. I might need more reinforcement.”

That was tantei-kun’s voice. The real thing, no doubt about it. Kaito froze in place, then took another step forward, slowly and deliberately. Had he been followed? More importantly, why was tantei-kun asking...

He removed a small mirror from his pocket, just to check, and found just what he should have expected. It really was a small world they lived in, that it would be Professor Agasa who made Kaito’s gadgets. Then the implications of that hit like a truck, and it was all he could do not to have a heart attack right then and there.

“Ah, I can handle that for you. Anything else?”

“Besides new tranquilizer darts, not really. Unless you have a solution for the battery problem; someone might get suspicious eventually if I come over here every time I need to charge.”

Charge?

“I’m sorry, Ku— ah, Conan-kun. I don’t. It’s very delicate machinery, you know. It needs maintenance. And you can’t exactly do it at home.”

You were going to call him Kuroba, weren’t you? Kaito’s fingers clenched at his side. That’s my name. 

“All right. Well, thanks anyways.”

“Want to get your glasses and leave, then?”

“I can’t reach them.” A frustrated groan. “I hate being this small! I used to be able to reach this just fine without a stool, and now I have to ask for help with everything!”

“Conan—“

“I know.” There was a pause that could have held anything; a meaningful glance, a deep breath, something more sinister. “I’ll get over it. And it’s not permanent, it’s just until I can find a way to fix it and go back to my old life.”

“That’s the spirit!” Professor Agasa cheered, and continued talking, but Kaito couldn’t hear anything more over the thrumming of his own heartbeat in his ears.

This confirmed it. The robot Kaito was somehow back, this time in a child sized body. It had memories of the first time, and planned for there to be another. It was planning to get rid of him— what if it was with Snake? 

It would keep stealing gems just like him, with no one the wiser, until it found Pandora. An immortal villain...no, two of them. The world wouldn’t stand a chance.

That still left the matter of the Professor— whose side was he on? Was he on a side? He didn’t seem to have any inclinations to break the law; Kaito considered himself a good judge of character most days, robots notwithstanding, and he genuinely didn’t think the elderly man was on anyone’s side. He was just doing repairs, after all, and had shown a scatterbrained indifference towards the people commissioning him, and their purposes. 

He didn’t know that what he was working on was far more dangerous than anything else he’d ever had in his laboratory put together.

But it was okay; it wouldn’t replace him. Not again. Kaito had the element of surprise on his side; he could nip this problem in the bud, so to speak. Last time, he’d been caught off guard by a horrible coincidence, but he’d moved on from that. 

He was older, wiser, more experienced. He wouldn’t succumb to that sort of weakness ever again. Wouldn’t be caught off guard. He’d be the one in control this time, if only to reassure his racing mind that he was okay now, wasn’t still stuck in that cramped basement where he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, where even his mind could be violated.

No, this time would be different.

In fact… Kaito started to grin as a plan took shape in his head. Oh, that would be perfect . He knew the location was still abandoned and cut off from the rest of the world; perfect for what he had in mind. His breathing evened out as he walked away silently, hands stuffed in his pockets as if he didn’t have a care in the world. And soon, he wouldn’t. All he needed was some sandpaper and rope.

Chapter Text

Something felt... stagnant. That was the word. Life carried on, bodies fell out of the sky, and most things carried on as normal, but sometimes Conan got this strange feeling. Like the world was encased in glass and he was on exhibit, and if he could just see beyond that wall he’d find an impassive audience watching, waiting to see what he’d do next.

He’d never considered himself superstitious, but he did believe in the power of the subconscious mind. Specifically, in its ability to pick up on things before the person even realized it. It was a start, but he had nothing to interpret.

 There was never anything concrete, never any evidence, just people whose gazes lingered for a bit too long, who engaged in casual conversations that felt like gathering information. And that wasn’t enough. As a detective, he knew this, but he also knew that, as someone had rather aptly put it, ‘it isn’t paranoia if they’re really out to get you.’ 

He didn’t want Ran to be worried about him— she worried far too much as it was, and any more worrying would translate into hovering, which he didn’t want. But he also didn’t want to worry her by being unprepared and getting himself into trouble.

He made an offhand comment at breakfast about how he’d been having weird feelings about being watched, then brushed them aside just as easily with a wish that they’d go away soon. It was a careful balance, but seeing as no one took him terribly seriously to begin with, it would probably only be visible in hindsight.

Still, Ran’s reaction was… well, he’d misjudged. “Do you want me to walk you to school?” she offered.

“No, I’m old enough to walk on my own.”

She paused. Studied him. “You’re still worried, aren’t you.”

“It’s probably nothing, really,” he deflected. “I guess I’ve been reading too many mystery novels.”

“I told you not to do that,” she scolded, but her relief was palpable. “How about this: you can just text me when you get there, and I’ll know you made it okay. Would that make you feel safe?”

“Yeah!” His enthusiasm was feigned, but his gratitude was genuine. A lack of response was a much better indicator than a distress call, just in case. And if Ran thought the problem of his strange anxiety was solved by that, she wouldn’t have to worry. Both of them would be okay. His smile became more genuine as relief filled him, muffling but not completely covering his fear. “I’d feel a lot better. Thanks, Ran-neechan!”

 With that, he rushed out the door, making his way out of earshot before the conversation could go any further.

It wasn’t anything more than a feeling, really, but it stayed with him all the same. He hoped he hadn’t worried her over nothing.

***

When Conan checked the news on his way to school, he saw that Kaitou Kid had sent out another heist notice: once revived, half sized, under sol I take the Gemini.  

While it wasn’t quite up to the usual standard of Kid’s riddles, Conan decided he’d try his hand at solving this one. It was a nice distraction, if he was being perfectly honest. Kid’s heists tended to be mentally challenging but not mortally dangerous to anyone, which he did appreciate to a certain degree.

Under sol could be a reference to the solfege scale in music, so notes underneath it would refer to do, re, mi, and fa. Each of those was short for something: Domine, Regina...no, that wasn’t it. It could more easily mean under the sun— Kid hadn’t specified a time, so this would be his first heist during the day. Apparently, phantom thieves had no need for sleep.

 Gemini might be a reference to something regarding the star symbol, but given the second phrase, he thought it was a more literal interpretation: the twins. Perhaps a pair of gemstones that were cut apart from the same rock? Their revival could mean that the original stone was poorly cared for, but a master craftsman had been able to make the gem sparkle again by cutting it in two, hence the revival. And naturally, each would be half of the size of the original.

It would be worth looking into, anyways. He made a mental note to look into gemstones that had been split in such a way. Kaitou Kid always stood out more and could easily blend into the darkness, so what was his motivation for coming out during the day? Unless Conan was misinterpreting the clue, in which case he’d have to look over the whole riddle again.

In any case, he sent an anonymous tip to the police station regarding his suspicions, and put his phone away. He really needed to get his priorities in order; he should be investigating his mysterious, possibly existent stalker, not solving the riddles of a thief.

Naturally, that was when it happened.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” The voice echoed around him, mechanically amplified somehow. Conan scowled, scanning the area for hidden speakers, and spotted three right off the bat. As (mostly) harmless as Kid was compared to other criminals, he’d hoped that this could wait until after school at least. He knew this area well; there weren’t any museums or galleries containing jewels nearby. What was the thief up to…?

“It’s him! It’s really him!” A female voice squealed, and Conan was nearly knocked aside by the rushing crowd of fans. Ugh. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to put up with this again for a while, but wherever Kid went, his fans seemed to follow. What anyone found romantic about a criminal, he couldn’t say, but apparently something about him tended to set hearts aflutter. For Conan, it just made his blood pressure rise.

Kaitou Kid appeared from a cloud of smoke, prompting another round of cheers. Smoke wasn’t typically how he made his entrance, but he had to compensate for the daylight somehow, Conan guessed. The thief held up a hand and waited for quiet before he spoke again. 

“Today, I have come to present to you a series of marvelous illusions! As a performer, I must indulge my fans, so let’s see how long this lasts before the police show up, shall we?” He gave a jaunty wink and flung roses out into the crowd with a broad sweep of his arm— his left arm, Conan noted. Kid tended to favor his right hand slightly, but was largely ambidextrous.

“I love you, Kid-sama! I’d never call the cops on you!” someone screamed.

“I’d call the cops! I love seeing you escape!”

“It’s mine!” A minor scuffle broke out on the outskirts of the crowd, one boy nearly punching another until they locked eyes over the rose Kid had thrown; the shorter of the two offered it shyly to the taller, who accepted it with a blush.

A distinguished looking gentleman in a grey cardigan broke away from the group and made a phone call. From the snippets that drifted towards Conan, he knew the man was contacting the police.

Well, at least someone had the good sense to do it. The general population seemed to suffer a collective drop in IQ where Kid was concerned. Police veterans made rookie mistakes, rational parents brought their children to see the show, straightlaced office workers came out to support illicit activities, children were deeply influenced by actions that they should know were wrong, and lovesick teens lost their minds over every move Kid made. It wasn’t that Conan thought the fans were bad people, per se, it just… left a bad taste in his mouth. Which was normally washed away by the thrill of the chase, but it was just no fun without a heist.

That was why he tried to quietly walk past, ignoring the cheers and fluttering wings and pyrotechnics— which were likely illegal on that scale, and certainly couldn’t be safe to transport. 

A small flash at eye level caught his attention, and his head whipped towards the source of the light. There, on a folding sign for a cafe, was something pink and glittery. The specials of the day and the opening at 6 AM were handwritten in pastel chalk, but something... else was definitely there. Conan sprinted across the street, keenly aware of every pounding step and flash of color. Could there be something to this after all?

Yes . A tiny, sparkly version of Kid’s signature doodle was drawn in the corner. Somehow, he knew it was authentic. Call it instinct, or the sixth sense exclusive to detectives that had been plaguing him, but this was Kid’s, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He inspected the rest of the sign, looking for something else. It had to have a meaning, and it was specifically placed at eye level for a short seven-year-old who didn’t particularly care for Kid’s illusions. Which meant it was most likely a challenge for him. But he couldn’t find any more evidence of Kid’s glitter pen. Maybe the menu itself contained some sort of complex code involving wordplay that he’d have to puzzle out?

Or maybe it was on the inside. It was a folding sign after all. Sure enough, when he knelt down to check, he found another riddle in the same ink.

Where does the Gemini shine?

Between what we build to keep us apart.

What’s in a name? Yours or mine?

Unravel the clockwork heart.

Finally, a good chase. And he didn’t even have to wait until tonight, since Kid had changed his modus operandi for some reason. School… could wait. He’d send Ran a text letting her know he’d been delayed. For now, time to dissect the clue like so much classical literature.

First, where does the Gemini shine? The first answer to come to mind was that it shone after its “revival,” but the question was specifically where . Given the next line, it was likely rhetorical. What we build to keep us apart could be fences or walls, but he was guessing it would be the more poetic and personal interpretation, walls. Kid was definitely the poetic type, to the point of resorting to cliches.. What’s in a name was a reference to the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet, but it could have something to do with the gem or gems changing names. He wished he’d been able to look up any gemstones in the area, but he just hadn’t had the time.

Time… unravel the clockwork heart . Maybe it was another literary reference, but it was far too vague without context. But this was all assuming that Kid hadn’t stolen the gems already. His most common trick was to make it seem like something had disappeared, when in reality it was right there. Misdirection was one of the most powerful tricks in his arsenal, so Conan wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that.

That meant he’d already hidden the two gems in an alleyway— between what we build to keep us apart, walls, the Gemini shines. Unravel the clockwork heart meant there would be some sort of steampunk themed puzzle, or perhaps one relying on timing, that he’d have to make his way through in order to retrieve them. As for the names...well, he’d figure that out. 

Just in case, he snapped a picture of Kid, now performing a complex card trick, and texted it to Ran with the caption Kid started a magic show on my way to school. He’s not committing any crimes that I can see, but I might stay and watch.

That should buy him enough time to figure out Kid’s latest trick. With that, he silenced his phone and made his way into the nearest alley. Dark— but that was where stars and gems shone the brightest, right?

...wait a minute.

He slowed down, taking it one step at a time, scanning the walls and surroundings for traps. Unravel the clockwork heart. What was the clockwork heart, though? He’d assumed a puzzle of some sort, but hadn’t found any more clues.

This was a setup, wasn’t it? Kid must have organized this because he needed a crowd, but why not just rely on his usual tactics? Had Conan misinterpreted the riddle wrong? There must be a reason for the sudden change. What could have prompted it? Of course, he was the only person in the entire street who seemed to be thinking of this.

“Everyone’s so distracted by the light show, they don’t even realize…”

“Realize what, this?” Conan spun at the familiar voice, just in time to catch a blunt impact to the head. The world faded into brightly colored smoke, then darkness.

***

At this point, Conan was no stranger to getting kidnapped. Still, this only made the experience marginally less terrifying when he woke up on the floor of an unfamiliar basement, staring at his bound legs stretched in front of him. His head jerked back, coming to an abrupt halt when it met a metal pole, and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain to abate. He could feel thick ropes digging into his skin, securing him to what felt like a support column with his hands tied behind him.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Sitting casually in front of him was none other than Kaitou Kid, the moonlit magician. Wait, what?

Conan blinked rapidly, willing his eyes to adjust faster. The flickering fluorescents made him want to throw up what little he’d managed to get down for breakfast, and the constant buzzing noise in the background wasn’t helping. His arms ached from being held in an awkward position for so long, and the slick surface of the pole he was tied to was frigid against his fingers. His head was throbbing like someone had taken a mallet to-- oh. Right. Someone had.

“You!” Conan accused, his voice shaking more than he would have liked. The events of that morning came rushing back.

“Me,” Kaitou Kid agreed, arms spread and face contorted into an expression that Conan hadn’t ever seen on the normally composed thief. “The one and only. I wonder if the same can be said for you.”

“You’re the one who’s been stalking me, aren’t you,” Conan realized. All that time, all those little things that didn’t add up— they came together perfectly to form a clear means with no discernible motive. Unless...

“Very astute, tantei-kun. I’m sure you know the reason why. This is about the double life you’ve been leading.” Kid stood, the lighting behind him throwing his face into dramatic shadow.

Does he know? Conan recoiled, but there was nowhere to go. “I-- I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, yeah, I’m smart for my age, and I don’t like attention. How is this worth kidnapping me over? What do you want from me?”

“I want the truth. Isn’t that your specialty?”

“You need my intellect to solve something for you,” Conan guessed. No reaction. He tested the ropes, but they held as solidly as if they were made of stone. “Whatever it is, you’re not going to get away with it. You’re a criminal, and I won’t help you get what you want. You’re going to get caught.”

“Who’s going to catch me, your professor friend?” That had been Kid. He’d been there; it was so obvious in hindsight that this wasn’t just an accident. As much as he was loathe to believe it, Agasa must have been in on it. 

“He’s your friend first, isn’t he,” Conan guessed. Kid raised a smoke bomb to the light, and suddenly it was all so clear. Professor Agasa had designed that, of course; to someone who’d seen enough of the professor’s inventions, the hallmarks were as clear as daylight. All this time...no, he couldn’t believe it. He refused to.

“Clever. I had to confirm my suspicions, but now I’m sure. You’re not very subtle at all, you know. I heard all about your conversation. You’ve been hiding from me in plain sight for a long time, and I think it’s time I put an end to this.” Kid stalked over to an old machine, brushing the dust from it with predatory grace. His gloves remained unmarked, and Conan wondered if the thief could do the same thing with blood. He might just end up being one last cold case he couldn’t solve.

“Are you working for them, then?” Kid continued to dust the machine with snow white gloves, giving no indication that he’d heard anything. It was starting to fall onto Conan’s face, forcing him to turn away or else risk getting dust in his eyes. With a start, he realized that his glasses were missing. “Did you want to silence me once and for all, after the first time didn’t take? Answer me! ”

“The first time was unfortunate, yes. I thought I’d rid the earth of you, and everything you stand for. But somehow I meet you again, and now you’re a child. I’ll admit, I didn’t recognize you-- the glasses were a very nice touch, but you can’t hide who you are. Who you were made to be.” With a final disdainful look at the machine, he turned away from it, focusing on Conan.

“You found out, then.” He’d known it was a mistake to stay in the country, of course, but it was a risk he was willing to take in order to keep searching for the Black Organization. “I don’t regret it, you know. I’d do it again for just a chance at taking you down.”

“I wonder if you ever met the creator, though,” Kid mused theatrically. “Of course, that person was killed by their own creation...”

“Like I’d tell you anything about that.”

“Fine then. Be that way, Conan Edogawa. Is that even your real name? Or just one that was selected for its meaning? Officially, you don’t exist.”

“It’s the name I chose.” And he wouldn’t let anyone take that away from him, not when he’d already lost one name.

“Conan, a name of Celtic origin, meaning one who is wise or high. Or the middle name of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of the Sherlock Holmes you admire so much. And then Edogawa, which you stole from a mystery author who, in turn, stole it from another one. It seems fitting, doesn’t it? Almost too fitting.”

“I think it’s served me just fine.”

“Are you sure there’s not another name you’d prefer to go by?” Kid smirked. “You know, the one you used before I killed you.”

“I’m not going to claim that one again until I reach my goal.”

“Then I guess you’ll just die as Conan Edogawa. Just one last thing before I kill you again, though.” Kid pressed his gun against Conan’s forehead with a click. “How did you survive the first time?”

He was going to die. They’d finally found him, after all of his efforts, and there was nothing he could do. He wanted more than anything to just let the mask fall, to break down and cry for once, but it was one last satisfaction he’d be able to deny the organization that took so much from him. “What’s the point? You’re going to kill me anyway.”

“The point? To satisfy my curiosity, and to make sure I don’t have to deal with this ever again. I want you to be the last of your kind.”

“The circumstances aren’t something you can recreate in a laboratory. It was dumb luck, okay? A one in a million fluke. Your pill works fine.”

“Pill?”

“The one you forced me to take?” Conan prompted. “You know. Since any other way would attract too much attention from the police nearby?”

“There… wasn’t any pill involved,” Kid said, sounding uncertain for once.

“Well, I was barely conscious at the time, so forgive me if it was a capsule or something! You can’t blame my memory for being fuzzy when I’d just been hit over the head with a pipe! Whatever. The poison.”

Kid just stared blankly. “I watched you shoot yourself in the head with a replica of my card gun.”

“That’s not how it went at all! Why on earth would I want to do that?” It was as if someone had thrown a wrench into the clockwork wheels of time, and its passage halted, making distressed clicking sounds.

“You don’t...” The safety clicked back on, and the cold metal was gone from his skin, leaving chills in its wake. “This isn’t right. None of this is right.”

“What were you expecting from me, then?” He tried to keep his voice neutral, only for it to crack midway through.

“It all added up, and yet...” His eyes searched Conan, then turned away empty. “You’re not lying. Not unless you’ve suddenly learned how to lie since the last time I saw you.”

“I can lie just fine!” He’d kept his identity secret this far, after all.

“Not to a phantom thief, you can’t.” His gloved fingers tapped an erratic rhythm against his leg, then abruptly stopped. “Too many things about you don’t add up, tantei-kun. I’m not a critic like you; I respect the illusions others put up. But I’ll draw the line if it puts me or my loved ones in danger.”

“If it puts you in danger?” Conan couldn’t stop his voice from rising in pitch. “You kidnapped and nearly killed me just now, and you don’t even seem certain why you’re doing it. One minute you have a policy of no one gets hurt, and the next, you imply that you’re working for the Black Organization. Who are you, really? You’re not acting like the Kid I know.”

“Then you never knew me.” Kid seemed almost...sad? But he was still holding his card gun in plain view, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he needed it. He was unstable, and that made him more dangerous than ever. “And I never knew you. Somewhere between the double lives and illusions, I lost something.”

“I don’t have time for your riddles. There’s only one truth, once you see past all of the lies and illusions.”

“Then maybe you can help me clear this up. You’re a detective, after all.” Conan flinched at Kid’s sudden hand movements, but the thief just put his gun away and settled into a more comfortable position. “It was January second when it happened. Imagine, if you will, a young man walking to school alone. He’s never been a morning person, which is why he doesn’t notice the scientist until it’s too late.”

“What kind of…?”

“His classmates don’t notice he’s gone, because there’s someone who looks exactly like him in his place. Someone with the same face, same knowledge, the same speech patterns, but without any filter or understanding of emotions. This someone tries to figure out the feeling called ‘love’ and confesses before he even knows what it means. Meanwhile, the young man wakes up in the dark and waits. And waits.”

It almost sounded like a threat, except it wasn’t. If Conan had to guess, he’d say the lack of any identifying information was because the story was too close to Kid. Was this the experience that had rattled— no, January was several months ago. Unless something else had brought it to light more recently, but what could the trigger be?

“And eventually, he sees the someone who stole his face. His DNA and memories were used in order to recreate his image— but it wasn’t enough. A blend of computer technology and gene sequencing were used to create a machine that looked human, but never would be. Because the young man found violence distasteful, and the machine had casually killed its creator without even understanding what death meant.”

I wonder if you ever met the creator, though. Of course, that person was killed by their own creation...

“The copy claimed to be the genuine article, said it just needed more data. And so it took and took and became more like him, with every single memory in his head. But like Pandora’s box, it must have left the most important thing behind. It swore to descend upon this earth, with all of his skills but none of his morals. It left him there, forgotten.”

“That… was you ,” Conan realized. “There was a report that indicated a violent Kid copycat whom you confronted, and the remains of some sort of animatronic at the scene of an explosion.”

“As it realized it had been destroyed, it asked me, am I dying? Is this what it means to be human? I thought it was gone for good. That it could never come back in any form, large or small. Now I need to make sure.”

The implications clicked just then— the thief’s instability, the insinuation that Conan should know what he was talking about, the fear masked by— well, by attempted murder. “ No .”

“No?” Kid cocked his head to one side, dangerously calm.

“ No as in there is no way I almost died over something this stupid.”

“If something as ‘stupid’ as this came closer than anything else in the world to killing me, then you’d better listen.” There was such an infuriating arrogance in his tone, implying that anything posing a danger to him was worth murdering over.

“What evidence do you have?” Conan demanded.

“You don’t understand emotions or metaphors at all. You’re far too intelligent for a child, even a prodigy, but you hide it like you’re scared of something.”

“Hm. Almost like I gave up one for the other.”

“Your physical abilities aren’t human.”

“Professor Agasa made me some gadgets to compensate for the fact that most criminals are not seven years old. I fail to see how having shoes that let me kick soccer balls like an adult qualifies me as a machine.”

“You broke my ribs!”

Huh. He’d suspected that the calibration was off for a while, but he hadn’t set aside time to test it until recently. “Well, they’re clearly better now, so I don’t see what you’re complaining about.”

“You admitted to me that your identity is falsified. You look similar enough to me when I was seven. Not only that, but you said you used to be taller. That you had an old life. A different name starting with ‘Ku,’ right?”

“You... seriously don’t know?” If Kid wasn’t part of the Black Organization at all, and had instead initiated this because he felt personally threatened, that would change the game completely. 

“I know there aren’t many ways for someone to shrink to the size of a seven year old unless it’s as simple as moving a memory chip,” Kaitou Kid said, as if this was the final piece of evidence. Please. He didn’t even know Conan’s real name, just a single syllable out of context.

“There’s one. I was supposed to die. It didn’t work. I had to create a fake identity so they wouldn’t find me and finish the job. That’s all you need to know.”

“The pill,” Kid realized. His normally impassive demeanor flickered, cracked, and fell. “We were never talking about the same event, were we.”

“No, I’m talking about the time a failed attempt on my life turned me into a seven year old. What the hell are you talking about?”

“I—“ Kid blinked and swallowed, looking less and less threatening by the second. “I thought a new scientist might have picked up where the last one left off before he died. The data used for the first clone was missing, and…”

“Oh.” There was an awkward silence as the two of them tried to process the implications of their entire conversation, each rewinding and analyzing the conversation with new context.

“So, uh…” Kid’s fingers were tapping rapidly at his side now, a rare display of nerves that had grown increasingly common in their current encounter. “You’re not a robot, then? Specifically, not a revival of the last robot I faced, except tiny and lawful good rather than chaotic evil because of specific programming that includes strict morals this time around?”

“Of course I’m not a robot! I’m a person!” Conan couldn’t believe this was what he’d almost died over. “And what about you? You’re not working for the Black Organization, are you?”

“The what ?”

Conan hesitated, then decided to give the abridged version. Kid seemed to have a second sense for lying anyways, and he still didn’t seem convinced enough to let him go. Not to mention, if Kaitou Kid had kept his identity secret this long, he wouldn’t be in any more danger from the knowledge. “They’re a criminal organization that wears all black and has alcohol codenames. Very secretive, and very dangerous. If you’ve encountered them, you’d know it.”

“Does this Black Organization include a man called Snake who’s seeking the secret to eternal life?”

“It’s...possible.” It certainly bore investigation, in any case. But more pressing was the matter of his current situation. “That means this is all just…” A misunderstanding, he didn’t say. It sounded so silly when put in that way, like a mere miscommunication rather than a tense series of weeks that had culminated in a kidnapping and almost murder. It sounded like something friends would laugh about afterwards. It didn’t sound at all like this.

“Yeah. Um. Sorry.” Kaito Kid cleared his throat and, with a puff of smoke, the ropes around Conan were gone. It wasn’t with his usual flair, though, and Conan could see the magician’s hands trembling. “Truly. I am sorry. Clearly, I’m not cut out to be a detective, and you shouldn’t have gotten hurt because of that.”

“It happens more often than I’d care for.” He stood slowly, rubbing his wrists to regain circulation. Strangely enough, his wristwatch wasn’t removed, but the dart had been emptied. “This has to be the weirdest, most implausible way I’ve almost died.”

“It was for me, too,” Kid agreed.

“That’s—” He stopped. “Okay, I can’t argue with that. It’s still ridiculous, though.” In hindsight, the entire thing must have been a terrifying experience for Kid, too. Not in the same way, but enough to shake the thief more than he’d ever seen. “Okay. That’s… a mess, but at least it’s over, right? Neither one of us intends to kill the other.”

“Right. I...” Kid breathed out heavily. “I can’t believe I almost did that.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m used to it.” Conan shrugged. “Honestly, this would be funny if it wasn’t so… real.”

“Yeah. Maybe someone will get a good laugh out of it? Like, if I have kids in twenty years, maybe they’ll think it’s funny?” He gave a small shrug. “I really hope so.” 

So he can casually talk about living that long . “You do realize that you just kidnapped and attempted to murder a child, right? You just sacrificed your entire reputation as a nonviolent gentleman thief over a stupid suspicion that belongs in a bad science fiction novel.”

Kid blinked. Conan didn’t.

“I can live with that, I suppose. It’ll make my job harder, but it’s the price I pay for my mistake. I suppose you’ll want to take public transportation home, correct?” 

“But you could just as easily cover it up if you wanted, couldn’t you? Make it look like an unrelated accident. Except you won’t. You broke your rule, but you didn’t even think you were breaking it. And you’re letting me go because of the same rule.”

”What rule?”

“No one gets hurt?” Conan prompted.

“Since when have I played by rules?” He grinned, seeming to take strength from Conan’s shock. “I do what I like, and I don’t like seeing people get hurt. Nothing so convoluted as a set of rules to live by.”

...centuries of humans studying philosophy, and months of psychoanalysis on the thief’s motives, all dashed to pieces by the simple, childish logic of Kid simply not liking it. As if he was a stubborn toddler at the dinner table, refusing to eat his vegetables. Conan was going to scream . He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, headache intensifying. Of course; during the teleportation heist, Kid had stated the principals of magic, the only time he’d implied he followed any sort of code, only to turn around and break it for shock value.

“The ball is in your court now, tantei-kun,” Kaitou Kid said lightly. It sounded perfectly casual, and if Conan didn’t know better, he’d say it was. That’s how good an actor Kid was.

Ugh. On one hand, the truth was a part of him, unwavering as any pillar. He was a detective, Kid was a criminal who regularly flaunted his crimes.

But he knew firsthand how dangerous a reckless pursuit of the truth was. And it sounded like Kid might be involved in the same mess as him, or at least a similar one. If they joined forces, Kid was definitely an ally he wanted on his side. Telling the police force that he’d been kidnapped again would lead to more unnecessary hovering, which would lead to greater difficulty in actually solving cases. And there would be no way he’d be allowed to attend Kid’s heists anymore, which he didn’t want to risk. Besides, he didn’t think Kid would be caught any time soon, so as much as he hated to admit it, there was no point in adding one more crime to the thief’s extensive criminal record.

He needed allies. And even from the other side of the thin blue line, he knew Kid was one of the best. He had a rare opportunity to put the thief in his debt, and he’d be a fool to pass it up.

Conan sighed, regretting his decision already. “I’ll cover for you...”

“Aw, you will? After… everything...”

“Because you owe me big for this, and I want to collect,” he finished. “Afterwards, all bets are off.”

“You really do like me after all!” Kid cheered. Then he frowned. “Actually, that says some very concerning things about your self preservation. Or lack thereof, really.”

“Shut up.”

Chapter Text

So it turned out that despite an IQ of 400, Kaito was an idiot.

“How have the police not caught you yet? Are they secretly complicit with your schemes? Is this some deranged attempt to repurpose the dregs of the criminal justice system into entertainment for the masses as a distraction from the larger problems in our society? How can you be intelligent enough to come close to my level during your heists, but still stupid enough to believe in miniature robot clones, for crying out loud?”

“Hey, that was actually traumatizing!” Kaito pouted.

“Are you really going to pull that card on me?” Tantei-kun pushed up his glasses, as if to remind himself that he had them again. “If there’s a contest of who’s survived the most murder attempts, I win.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“You can’t win it, since you were never playing the game.”

“Really. Did you even take into account the snipers?”

“Snipers?” 

“Dressed in black, go by weird code names, seeking eternal life, attend my heists sometimes?”

He snapped to attention at that, looking like a cat ready to pounce. “I want all the information you have on them.”

“And we’ll call it even?”

“And I’ll make you look like a decent person in front of the police instead of just a not-terrible person. I need it.”

“Fine.” Kaito stood up, taking the folder out of his jacket and removing the more incriminating bits. No sense adding the noodles before the water was boiling, after all. He didn’t miss how tantei-kun’s eyes followed the motion, but he didn’t say anything, merely shuffling the papers around like a deck of cards and slipping a few of them away while his attention was elsewhere. When all was said and done, he presented the file to the detective, who took it in hungrily. 

“Code names follow a different theme, they’re less secretive, more impulsive, not quite as competent but with the same resources… there’s a connection, though, so how far back does it go? Would they allow this? Is it another branch, or a former member looking for redemption? And the poison...” he muttered to himself, the abruptly stopped and turned to Kaito as a realization hit him.

“Do you just carry all this around? Waterproofed, even? You’re usually quite prepared, but you plan your heists in advance, meaning you research and pack accordingly. That would imply that you have this with you on a regular basis.”

“If I die, it’ll most likely be a gunshot wound from them, since they don’t know my real identity. I want whoever finds my body to take up the mantle, so to speak. Or, if they’re on the more boring side of the law, report it to the police so someone competent can find it.”

 “You carry around a folder full of information on your enemies...that you laminated...in case of your untimely death.”

“It’s called thinking ahead and being spiteful, tantei-kun. You should try it sometime.”

“I’ll pass.” He scowled. “I apparently have the enforced personal space of a teddy bear. I can just imagine it being discovered next time I get hugged by some well meaning stranger. Or glomped, cuddled, carried, kidnapped… or bodily thrown out of a room, or tripped over by an adult who didn’t see me in the way, or grabbed by the back of my shirt like a freaking cat and then unceremoniously deposited elsewhere when I would have moved if I was just asked .”

“I take it your tiny mortal form is an inadequate container for the undying rage you feel at the indignity?”

“Well, if I was my usual size, I wouldn’t be angry!” he ranted. “Why was it that whenever people see something they perceive as cute, their first instinct is to pat it or pinch its cheek? Am I just a pet rabbit to be fawned over and casually tossed around? People keep touching me, and while it’s thankfully never in a creepy way, it’s extremely disconcerting how little my opinion regarding this seems to matter.”

Huh. So that meant he’d probably get a soccer ball for his troubles if he tried ruffling tantei-kun’s hair, right? But he’d dodged those before, which meant he could do it again, right? A merry chase always served to raise his spirits; he’d done it in class plenty of times with Aoko, and seeing as he’d put heists on hold due to his steadily declining confidence, he hadn’t been chased in...

No. Kaito needed to get a better self preservation instinct before he started throwing stones about his detective being a reckless idiot. “You good? Need to vent any more?”

He gave the sort of smile that was only loosely classified as such if the observer was in a generous mood. “Now, why on earth would I need to do that after a day like today?”

...well. That was his cue to leave. “I’ll give you some time to make your preparations, while I make mine. Farewell!”

“Don’t die, I guess,” he said. It didn’t sound terribly sincere. 

***

A cup of iced coffee, a cold compress, and a pediatric dose of ibuprofen went a long way towards improving the detective’s mood. The burner phone was a bit of a mixed bag— he complained about having to call every competent acquaintance he knew and convince them that yes, there had been a slight kidnapping, and well, it turned out to be an incredibly stupid misunderstanding, and no, he wasn’t being forced at gunpoint to say this, and actually, if they could obstruct justice for a little while longer, he was going to sort things out.

“No, I do not secretly— what are you trying to imply here? He owes me now, anyways. Listen, it’s fine. He always skips away unharmed. No, I’m trying— come on, I’m not that terrible of a person.”

“Aw, you really do like me!” Kaito said from behind him. Conan muttered something about needing to go and hung up, turning to the thief.

“No, I just really hate murderers, especially the ones who get away with it. If you mistake the barest form of human decency as affection, I’m rather concerned for your interpersonal relationships.”

“You’re concerned...for me?” His eyes glistened with mock tears.

“Not in the slightest. I think your skills are useful enough that you’re better off indebted to me than in prison, since I have bigger priorities than a thief who always returns what he steals.”

“So you really do like me, then!”

“No, I just despise you slightly less than most criminals. Don’t think I’m going soft on you or anything; I still think you deserve to be caught.”

“I’ll take it!” Kaito chirped. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You still want me as an ally in your noble fight for justice, when I’ve threatened you twice. And the second time I would have done it.”

“See, only one out of two isn’t bad. Beggars can’t be choosers. Anyways, there’s a bit of a complication.” Of course there was. Maybe Kaito should have gotten donuts while he was out. “The thing is, even if I hadn’t figured out what it was, I knew I was being watched. I mentioned it to Ran, and she said I should text her when I got to school. I texted her at your magic show, during the card trick portion, and said I’d be late, since I was watching. From the time stamp, angle, and other pictures or videos your fans posted on social media, it would be easy to confirm both of our locations at the time. But after that— well, I went off the radar, so it’s easy enough to draw conclusions. And with my habit of getting into trouble, I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone’s freaking out. I’ve called off some of my more competent acquaintances who are in on the secret, but we’ll still have to explain this very carefully. I take it you wrapped up your show shortly afterwards?”

“With several dummies for the police to chase,” Kaito confirmed. It was a trick that never grew old, no matter how many times he did it. 

“At this point, you’re so good that any alibi will be called into question— stop grinning like that, it only makes my job harder!” he said, pointing an accusing finger. “And it wasn’t a compliment. Ugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Playing the black king rather than the white knight for once?” Kaito teased. “It’s not that bad, once you get over the fear of getting caught.”

“No, I mean lying to the people who trust me for the sake of some nebulous, altruistic goal in the future.”

“Ah.” So the detective wasn’t that different from him with the secrets he kept. “Well, that part just sucks, in my experience.”

Conan plowed on regardless of the somewhat heartfelt admission. “I didn’t call or text to let Ran know I was okay, and since you removed the battery, my phone can’t be tracked. Since the floor here seems to be a fairly generic concrete…” He carefully tucked the battery into an inside pocket, then sharply rapped his phone against the floor, trying several more times and checking, making adjustments until he was satisfied with the scrapes on the back panel. “There. Now I have an excuse for not calling back sooner. I dropped my phone and the case came open, and I was in such a hurry I didn’t realize the battery was gone.”

“You’re keeping the battery, though?” It seemed fairly incriminating to Kaito. Granted, he had a somewhat skewed perception, as he tended to carry around a little bit of everything on any given day, and they viewed the concept ‘incriminating evidence’ from opposite sides, but still.

“I’ll dispose of it once I get a new one. It’s not like I’ll be thoroughly searched to verify whether I’m telling the truth, and I don’t like being unprepared.”

“Perks of being considered trustworthy, am I right? Must be nice.”

Conan threw a book at his head. Which he probably deserved, to be honest. Kaito let it graze him, then retreated to a safe distance and started cleaning his own pockets, snickering every time something got a reaction. The best one was probably the live, somewhat tired garter snake (whose name was still undecided since Kaito liked to get to know his animals before naming them) but the feather boa got a decent reaction as well.

Finally, Conan sighed and threw down his pen. “Why are you distracting me? I’m trying to cover up for your impulsive decision that nearly got me killed, and you’re not being helpful.”

I’m not here to help, he almost said, but figured it was too soon. “Well, I’m bored. You can’t blame me for entertaining myself, can you?”

“Why don’t you go make yourself useful and buy me some more coffee? Thanks to your stalking, I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and I need to stay awake long enough to finish this. Normally I’d have it done by now, but I’m not exactly functioning at my best right now. I keep losing my train of thought, and writing only helps so much.”

“You’re not concussed, are you?” Kaito had learned the hard way after the wrench incident that blunt force trauma was not a reliable way to knock someone out, and had switched to a safer sleeping gas, but his one regression for the sake of poetic irony had backfired. 

“No, I’ve already checked for that. I hope you know I’m never going to let you live this down, though” he grumbled, holding the cold compress to his head and writing with the other. 

“Which part, specifically?”

“The reason. Robot clones, for crying out loud!” His pencil tore through the paper, and he scowled. “It’s ridiculous.”

“You were shrunk ten years! You’d think an experience like that would at least expand the realm of plausibility for you.”

“Sufficiently advanced science is indistinguishable from magic… to those who aren’t sufficiently advanced enough to understand such things. Magic doesn’t exist.”

“Oh, you sweet summer child. Clearly you’ve never been impaled at a distance and levitated through the city by a yandere witch obsessed with enslaving you, and it shows.”

“The placebo effect is a powerful thing, you know.” He hummed and flipped a page in the notebook Kid had lent him. 

“I was bleeding from my eyes!”

“Psychosomatic. Rare but not unheard of.”

“Fine. Forget it.” Sometimes it was like they existed in separate worlds, one full of the fantastic and the other mundane and logical. He doubted he could make tantei-kun believe in magic unless he arranged a meeting between him and Akako, and she was too much of a wild card to risk it. She’d probably go mad with the power of having someone near Kaito’s level of intelligence under her control, and team up with Conan to enslave Kaito once and for all. 

...yeah, bad idea. Maybe once she’d figured out the meaning of consent and they were all older, more responsible people who could have rational discussion unhindered by their unresolved emotional issues, he could broach the subject of sorcery again.

“What have you come up with?”

“I’m still working on that. I’m not the type to skip school, so I’m trying to find a reason I’d do that short of mortal danger or murder investigation.”

“Ah. School, being in mortal danger, and investigating a murder. Is that all you ever do with your life?”

Tantei-kun didn’t dignify that with a response, just scribbled and hummed in a way that made Kaito feel like he was being judged. “You wouldn’t by any chance happen to have a lighter, would you? I need to burn these pages when I’m done.”

“Any reason why? I think it would make a nice souvenir of our collaboration.”

“It’s too dangerous to leave lying around, for several reasons,” tantei-kun explained. “Leaving it with you would mean that my safety could be compromised by your arrest, and keeping it myself would be too risky. My handwriting is too distinctive, and second graders aren’t exactly supposed to have this degree of literacy. Most of them still struggle to differentiate between past and present forms.”

“Does that make you,” he paused for emphasis, “tense?”

The soccer ball whizzed harmlessly past him, ricocheted off two walls and a table, then nailed him in the side. Kaito took the hint and passed him a lighter before retreating to a safe distance.

Somehow, even after clarifying matters and asking for an alliance, his littlest critic was no less terrifying.

***

“Did I mention I brought donuts?” Kid asked. Huh, so he’d decided it was safe and he wasn’t going to get hit with another soccer ball. At least Conan had gotten a good half hour of peace and quiet out of the deal.

“Despite my appearance, I’m not overly fond of sweets unless there’s another flavor to balance it out. Unless they’re lemon flavored, I doubt I’ll like them.”

“More for me, then!” Kid sat down next to him, gleefully started on one end of the box and made his way through as Conan worked. He was almost on his way to something, he thought, but it was hard to find places without security cameras or witnesses.

“Hm. Good thing I got a variety! The middle donut of the second row from you is lemon spice, so it’s yours.”

“And why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“Drama,” the thief answered shamelessly. He reached for his sixth donut, somehow managing not to get any of the jelly on his white suit.

Conan would have facepalmed if not for the fact that it wouldn’t do his headache any favors. Of course. He shouldn’t have expected anything less from the flamboyant thief. “You’re literally the most dramatic person I’ve ever met, and you have some very stiff competition, seeing as my aunt is an actress.”

“Thank you! I try.”

“On that topic...” he tilted his head so that the light reflected off his glasses and hid his eyes, a basic intimidation technique he’d picked up early on. “When I woke up, you were right there, like you’d been waiting.”

“Your point?”

According to his watch, he’d been out for two hours, and he wasn’t terribly far from where he’d been abducted; an hour by train at most. Of course, the location was pretty out of the way, so there was probably some walking involved (carrying his unconscious body, no less) but still. “Did you just sit there and stare ominously that entire time, waiting for me to wake up?”

“We all must make sacrifices for our art,” the thief said evasively.

“I… ” Somehow, imagining Kaitou Kid sitting in wait for at least half an hour just for the sake of drama was both perfectly fitting and absolutely ridiculous for him. He was so ridiculously extra that Conan wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed or angry. “Words fail me.”

“Anyways,” he carried on, sure that if he spent any more time with Kid, his blood pressure was going to shoot through the roof, “I’ve mapped out every possible story I can think of, and judging by the puzzle you left, I can make up something about a further challenge that I wanted to go chasing after, and got tunnel vision and just forgot about school or answering my phone for two hours.”

“No one gets tunnel vision that badly, though,” Kid said.

“I once didn’t realize the kitchen was on fire because I was busy reading. A Study in Scarlet, if I remember correctly. It’s a perfectly plausible alibi.”

“Well, don’t you sound awfully smug for someone who’d let his house burn while reading Sherlock Holmes.”

“Why would I let my house burn? I have the entire collection in multiple—” Crap, he wasn’t helping his case. On the plus side, Ran hadn’t tried to teach him how to cook ever again. “Fine. If anyone asks, I figured out that you were going for the Bluebird’s Eyes. They’re on display from Greece, and they were recently cut apart from the same stone. There’s an old legend attached to it about a young trio of children whose tale ended in tragedy, if that makes any difference.”

“Hm, not exactly the type of gem I typically go after, but it’ll match the riddle I sent out. I can’t say I care for tragedies, though. I’m still hoping for my happy ending, and I hope you know I won’t stop.”

“You’re not some fairytale protagonist, idiot. According to a certain peripherally believed psychoanalysis, to which I’m beginning to subscribe, you’re a maladjusted gifted child with kleptomaniac tendencies and the ability of a lawyer in regards to finding loopholes in morality.”

“Ooh, such big words! Let me get my thesaurus. Are you just trying to exercise that vocabulary of yours before it atrophies from being around second graders and being treated like one? Reciting times tables must be so fun for you. And constantly having to pretend, getting shoved around by adults, even—”

“FINE!” It wasn’t like he was missing anything important at school to begin with. “I know what you’re trying to do. You want me to come to your heist, which you’re actually going to hold, rather than going back to school, aren’t you?”

Kid blinked. “Well, I guess I could try holding a heist without preparation...”

“What do you mean, you guess ? Wasn’t this your plan all along?”

“You can just ask, you know,” Kid said, and muttered something about him being a tsundere. Which Conan was not, mind you. 

He enjoyed the challenge Kid presented, the respect as a worthy opponent, the chance to exercise his mind without anyone dying— but if he let that slip, then he’d be teased even more mercilessly. It was like feeding wild animals— show feral creatures any sort of affection, and they become attached to you and will attack if they don’t get the treatment they’ve become accustomed to. And Conan wasn’t so grateful for the challenge that he’d be willing to overlook Kid’s flagrant disrespect of the law, either. He didn’t just break it, he did a jig on the pieces before burning them in brightly colored flames, with some glitter for good measure.

“Why would I ask you for anything?”

“Ah, yes, because you’re just going to demand things and hold this incident over me until you deem my amends sufficient.”

“Good to see you understand our arrangement, then. Now, to get to the other end of town in time without being seen...”

He was about to suggest a simple disguise like a hoodie and wig when Kid pulled out a duffel bag from seemingly nowhere. “Get in, loser. We’re going aiding and abetting.”

“No.”

“It was a joke; relax, will you?” He removed a flu mask, beanie, and sweater from the bag. “If anyone asks, you’re my little brother who got sick at school and needed a ride home.”

He sighed; they said familiarity bred contempt, and while he’d always had a great deal of contempt for the thief, being in close proximity for so long had made him tense. “Let’s just get this over wi— did you eat the entire box of donuts? ”

“I left the one for you, so only eleven. And running from the police burns a surprising amount of carbs!”

Running from his civic responsibilities, more like. Or any responsibility at all. Back when Shinichi was part of the soccer club, he’d always been very careful about his diet so that he could perform at his best, but apparently Kid had no such concerns.

Getting out of bed this morning was a mistake. He understands this now.

***

The heist was big. It was flashy. It was glorious. It involved the garter snake, whose name was now, by popular vote, Jolene.

Kaito had also dissociated through most of it, so he couldn’t say exactly what happened. In fact, his main source of information was Twitter, since anything above forty characters was pushing the limits of his fried attention span.

He had two options, really. One of them was to call Jii and explain the situation, the other was to lie here and drown in self pity, wait for the ice cream to levitate itself from the freezer to the couch, and otherwise continue his long, long streak of terrible life decisions.

...yeah, he legitimately didn’t know how long he’d last if he kept making choices like that. Also, he was almost out of ice cream. And he was in a rocky road sort of mood.

Twenty minutes later, he had his ice cream and was explaining to Jii, piece by piece, everything that had led to this. Rather understandably, Jii was upset that he hadn’t been informed, but had relented slightly at Kaito’s earnest explanation of how he really didn’t want Jii to call in all of his illegal favors again and mobilize a covert mission because that had sort of operation last time had involved some sketchier people who didn’t have his morals, and because it was too much trouble.

“Honestly, I get shot at all the time,” Kaito said defensively. “I didn’t see how a little more mortal peril was that different.”

“You’ve never been captured! That machine came closer than anything else to taking you away. I’ve already lost your father—”

“I get it, okay? I was being dumb and hiding things is bad. I just panicked, and didn’t know what else to do. The little brat always throws me off my game. I’ve felt like something was off about him since we met, but that...”

“...that’s the reason you’ve been spiraling for the past month, isn’t it.”

“Yep! And I was wrong anyways, so tantei-kun decided to cover for me on the condition that I’ll owe him, which probably means risking my life in some wild scheme of his.”

“How did this happen?” He pointed to the bruise on Kaito’s side, a few inches of bruised flesh blooming colorfully where his shirt had ridden up.

“I made a pun.”

“And?”

“He didn’t like it. This is my pun ishment.”

“This is exactly why I worry about you, you know.”

“I know.” He’d known it for a long time. That he was an absolute mess of a human being with no self preservation instinct and chaotic dumbass energy that was off the walls.

“Anything else I should know?”

“Tantei-kun is older than he looks due to some sciencey stuff with a poison that sounds pretty magical to me, but he won’t tell me his actual age. I think he’s scared I’ll flirt with him. Oh, and he wanted information on Snake and pals for some reason, which looks like he might have a similar problem. I think that’s it.”

“Well, that’s his problem,” Jii says firmly. “We have enough to worry about as is, and he’s proven himself perfectly capable of handling his own issues. I’m calling you in sick from school, and saying you tripped and aggravated your injuries.”

“Close enough, am I right? I’ll tell Hakuba that I really did want to go to that Kid heist, but those darn stairs!” Huh, he’d sort of forgotten about school. Now that he thought about it, he remembered Ran dragging tantei-kun away at the end of the heist, yelling something about truancy, but it was a bit blurry. Actually, a lot of things were getting blurry now. How long had he been running on adrenaline and existential terror? Had he slept last night? When was the last time he had eaten?

“Think I’m just gonna pass out for a bit,” Kaito mumbled, grabbing the folded blanket from the armrest.

Epilogue:

“Kuroba-kun, while I know you have a flair for the dramatic, we have a physics test tomorrow, and I was hoping to get to sleep. Couldn’t this wait?”

Kaitou Kid put a finger to his chin, as if this was just another casual question rather than an implied what are you doing in my room. “Kuroba? I don’t think I know anyone by that name.”

“Oh, for crying out—“

“What do you know about the January second case?”

Saguru glanced around furtively before crossing the room in a few quick strides to shut the curtains. “I know someone used your DNA and advanced brainwave scans to synthesize a replacement for you, but it went wrong. Very wrong.”

“The data and DNA were gone when I checked, though,” Kid said lightly. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”

“Certain incriminating evidence has a habit of going missing from your crime scenes. Quite frankly, it’s sloppy and below you that you didn’t clean it up first. The incident with Nightmare was… understandable, and tragic, but you really do need to be more careful.”

“So, who exactly did ‘clean up after me’ as you put it?” He grinned, a familiar expression that meant the pieces were all settling into place. “Don’t tell me you’ve stained your hands for my sake, tantei-san. Abandoning the principles by which you live?”

As if it was that simple. “I’ve abandoned nothing. I stole evidence to protect your identity because it’s not exactly sporting otherwise. One day, I will attend your heist and outwit you myself, putting an end to your career. That’s the only way I’ll allow you to be caught.”

Kid gasped, putting a hand to his heart. “You protected me because you wanted to be my one and only? Oh, how terribly romantic!”

“It’s not like— will you stop flirting with me? I’m trying to be serious here.”

“I know.” The playful grin retreated, replaced by a more serious expression. “And I do appreciate it, even if you didn’t tell me. I’ll make my next heist fun for you, all right?”

“If you had paid any attention, you’d know I’m heading back to England in two days for—“

“Your mother’s birthday, yes. I’ll be eagerly awaiting your return.” He gave a low, sweeping bow, revealing a vase full of white roses on the table behind him that certainly hadn’t been there before. “Until then, tantei-san.”

“Please get out of my house.”

Even more epilogue:

“Professor, I think we need to have a chat about the people you give your inventions to.”

“Ah...about that. Did you see Kuroba-kun the other day? He’s a young magician under the care of an old friend of mine. He looks similar to you— well, when you’re seventeen— but with messier hair. An old friend of mine recommended I collaborate with him, since the boy hasn’t been feeling himself lately, but he never showed up.”

“...excuse me. I need to go have a crisis.”