Work Text:
Chemistry
Kaito was humming to himself as he mixed smoke bombs for his next heist. Specifically, he was humming along to a ten hour version of a meme song, which was surprisingly good for productivity. And given that he made most of his entrances using smoke bombs, it was really for the best that he had a sudden surplus of spare time.
Some people, namely a certain detective with no sense of the dramatic, had complained about his liberal use of them. Particularly the ones with confetti, if he remembered correctly.
He settled into the rhythm easily, mixing chemicals and pouring them into the correct compartments like he’d been doing it his whole life. Which wasn’t strictly true; his dad had waited until he was in first grade to teach him how to make smoke bombs, out of respect for his kindergarten teacher. Kaito wondered how she was doing these days. He’d always liked her, but it was possible that he was biased, since in second grade he had made the Kuroba name synonymous with “a holy terror to try and teach, not to mention too smart for his own good.”
Yeah, that was probably it. Now that he thought about it, none of the adults in school had liked him too much since he learned to make smoke bombs. It didn’t improve anyone’s opinion of him, really, but he relied on them for so many of his escapes, and they were more convenient than flash bombs.
Huh, that was strange. How long had he been working in silence without realizing it? Kaito tapped his headphones in annoyance, but nothing happened. Had they run out of battery? No; they would have given him a warning. Which meant that the track he’d been listening to was finished.
“I’ve been working for that long?” He glanced around instinctively, looking for a window, and found that there were none. Right; the hideout was underground. He checked his phone; the battery was at 17% even with the portable charger he’d brought, and it was almost four in the morning.
When was the last time he slept? Or ate? Kaito blinked at the pile of smoke bombs in front of him, seeing his work with fresh eyes. He must have been pretty deep in the zone not to notice the passage of time, but then again, without the routine to keep his internal clock on time, it had been getting more intense lately.
Well. Time to microwave something that might pass as a meal if he was in a generous mood (read: desperate) and pass out for fourteen hours straight! Or hey, he might as well make it twenty-six, and get his mess of a sleep schedule back on track.
Quarantine was getting to him.
Piss off a detective
It was an open secret that Kaito liked to cause trouble. He didn’t consider his mischief malicious most of the time-- sure, occasionally he’d go too far and regret it, and it was definitely distracting when he played pranks at school, but for the most part, he just liked chaos. The world got boring sometimes, and it was especially boring now.
Which is why he decided to hang out in a local park and arrange for a video call with Hakuba. In full Kaitou Kid regalia, no less. Humming to himself (turns out that listening to a song for ten hours will get it pretty firmly stuck in your head; who would have thought?), he sat down cross legged on a bench and sent the link, along with a cute pixelated version of the doodle that he used to sign heist notes.
Sure enough, it seemed his detective had nothing else to do, and joined the call after less than a minute. His blonde hair was slightly askew, and there were dark smudges beneath his eyes and a strange red mark on the side of his face. A pillow crease, maybe? Upon seeing Kaito, he sighed, immediately facepalming.
“Why are you in public. Isn’t someone going to arrest you?”
“Why? I’m not doing anything wrong, am I?” Kaito leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand. “Besides, no one would expect the great Kaitou Kid to be going for a walk on a day like this. Everyone just assumes I’m an avid fan.”
“That tacky suit of yours should be considered criminal by itself.”
“I don’t think you have much room to judge my fashion tastes. Are those owl themed pajamas?”
“Hawks, not owls,” he scoffed. “Watson! Here, girl! I’m video chatting with a stupid thief who thinks you look like an owl!”
“I’m surprised you aren’t wondering how I got your number, though,” Kaito said thoughtfully, watching the bird flutter into the frame. “Could it be that your time in self isolation has diminished that burning curiosity that’s so critical for detectives?”
“Must we go through this farce?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, tantei-san,” Kaito said, smirking.
“You know, the one where we pretend I don’t know your identity. However did you get my number, Kid. I am amazed at your prowess of totally not convincing your best friend and neighbor to give it to me,” the detective recited in the most deadpan tone possible.
“I have my ways, you know!” Kaito gave a little wink.
“What do you want from me? My family may be wealthy, but we don’t have any gems that meet your criteria.”
“Oh, I know that. I checked.” He hadn’t, really, but it was worth it to see Hakuba’s reaction.
“When exactly did you break into my house?” Hakuba said, with a glance at Watson.
“A magician never reveals his secrets!”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Well, it’s your time to suffer, then.”
“I thought you considered your own company pleasant,” he retorted. “It seems to match the rest of your delusions of grandeur.”
“I was under the impression that you didn’t, and I was bored. So I decided to make my presence your problem. After all, what’s a phantom thief to do in lockdown?”
“Knit a scarf?”
Kaito pulled a knitted scarf from his sleeve. “Been there, done that.”
“Bake sourdough bread?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have the yeast for it, and I don’t take things without returning them.”
“Turn yourself in?” he suggested.
“Nice try.”
Hakuba shrugged shamelessly. “I suppose it was worth a shot.”
“Please, it’s your most pathetic attempt at catching me yet, and that’s saying something. Quarantine really has done a number on your skills.”
“Fine then. If I’m not good enough for you anymore, then suffer. Alone.” Smirking, Hakuba hung up.
Care for doves
“Listen, I know you two have communication issues to work out, and that he’s kept things from you, but quite frankly it’s ridiculous that you haven’t sat down and sorted out your problems.”
Kaito’s dove stared back at him. Chirped twice.
“You’re reading too much into it, Haruka. You only live once, so tell him how you really feel, okay?”
Haruka turned her head to the side and let out a low, warbling coo.
“Hey, don’t get sassy with me, young lady. You’re pouting and you know it. Talk to him!” With a firm shake of his finger, he left Haruka and approached the other dove in question, Shou.
“Are you going to tell Haruka that you didn’t steal the ribbons from her nest, but rescued them when they went flying in the wind?”
Shou hopped and poked at a twig with his beak, then shook his head.
“Just because she’s self conscious about her nest building skills doesn’t mean she won’t accept the truth if you tell her they came loose. Those were genuine silk ribbons, you know.”
The dove turned away from him and let out a small chirp.
“What? You mean you’ve known all this time and haven’t let Haruka in on it?” Kaito gasped in horror. “You little… I can’t believe you’d use the skills I taught you for that.”
He trilled cheerfully and tucked his head back to preen his wing.
“All right, that’s it. You two are going to work out your issues, or I’m going to lock you in a room together until you do. Don’t think I wouldn’t; I’ve done it before, to Hiro and Naoko.” Kaito pointed to a nesting pair of doves, both of whom were gazing at each other adoringly. “See, they turned out fine. When are you going to explain things and ask Haruka to be your nestmate already? I want grandchicks.”
Sew
It annoyed Aoko to no end, but Kaito was quite an accomplished tailor. He wasn’t sure if she was irritated that he was better at feminine tasks or that he could make dresses for her but wouldn’t since she refused to give him her measurements, but either way, it was fun to annoy her with. And it was pretty useful to be able to make and repair clothes, too.
It had become even more useful once he’d begun his night job, and used his sewing abilities to make disguises for himself. He currently had a massive underground walk-in closet filled with clothes, shoes, and wigs that he’d made and styled himself, just for heists. A decent portion of them were just copies of Aoko’s clothing, now that he thought about it.
He’d reached the end of his stash making fabric masks, because hey, just because he was technically a criminal didn’t mean he had no morals, okay? Maybe he sometimes showed his concern for people in weird ways, but he didn’t want the people around him getting sick. He didn’t want anyone getting sick, or hurt, and he firmly believed that people should use their skills to the fullest extent.
After that, though, he started feeling a bit… desperate. Stir-crazy? Probably. The feeling of making something new just didn’t compare to the thrill he got from a perfectly executed heist or magic trick, so he’d escalated by making fancier and fancier clothing. It was really a shame he had nowhere to wear a period-accurate, hand sewn ball gown, but he could probably make an opportunity for himself. He was good at that, making opportunities.
Well, he had the opportunity now to use some of his disguises. Going for walks was about the only thing that was still allowed, so he could have some fun with that, right? Maybe he’d go out for a walk disguised as Aoko sometime. Or, better yet, he could experiment with a couple fashion subcultures! He’d always thought fairy kei looked cool. Or decora-- he normally made high-end fakes, but the fact remained that he was quite good at making jewelry and accessories.
“Why am I like this, Bernie,” he sighed.
His sewing machine didn’t answer.
Piss off a detective: redux
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re ridiculously dramatic?” Conan asked, walking across the roof with all the confidence of someone who doesn’t fear falling because he knows he won’t hit the ground.
“You know, I don’t think they’ve ever stopped saying it. It’s always good to see you, tantei-kun.”
Conan raised an eyebrow. “Literally the only reason I agreed to this meeting is because I’m bored. I can still kick a soccer ball at you from six feet away.”
“Yes, and I have my arsenal too. No need to threaten me.”
“I thought there was every need. After all, you’re the one who said detectives and phantom thieves are fated rivals, aren’t you?”
“I say that to all my detectives,” Kaito responded haughtily. “It’s not like you’re special or anything.”
“What other detectives?”
“Don’t be jealous; I never said we were exclusive! You’re so far away from where I normally hold my heists; I’m allowed to see other detectives in your absence, you know.”
“Stop trying to make everything weird. I just wanted to know if there was anyone close enough to my age that they’d take me seriously.”
His real age, he meant. He’d never spelled it out, and Kaito hadn’t asked-- thief’s honor and all-- but he knew the little detective was older than he looked; twelve at the very least. How it had happened, he didn’t know, but it didn’t seem he’d get the answer anytime soon. “Hmph. Come to Ekoda and face off against me when this is all over, and maybe I’ll reward the pleasure of your company with a phone number. Just remember,” he added with a wink, “Ekoda is my turf.”
“Like I could forget.”
“Here.” Kaito slid a package across the roof to him. “Stay safe, will you? I want to face off against you later, so I can’t have you getting sick.”
“And you call me a tsundere.”
“That’s because you are!”
“Right, right.” He slit open the package with a tiny pair of scissors and carefully removed a plastic bag before inspecting the contents, squinting in the dim light.. “You’re telling me you made face masks in my size, with a pattern of Sherlock’s dancing men that’s just the word ‘detective’ repeated over and over, and filters and nose wires and everything, but it’s not like you like me or anything?”
“I found myself with time on my hands, and you know I don’t like people getting hurt.”
“My, what a considerate thief you are,” Conan said coyly. Then, “You haven’t given masks in this pattern to anyone else in Ekoda, have you?”
“What, so you can pick out your fellow detective nerd?” Kaito huffed. “I’m not making it that easy for you. Stay healthy until you can accept my next challenge. If it’s a fun chase, then I’ll tell you who it is. You need more friends.”
“I have friends,” he insisted.
“Oh, is that what you call the grade schoolers who follow you around like ducklings?”
“ Yes .”
“Hm. I guess you wouldn’t be interested in an introduction to a fellow Sherlock Holmes fan, would you? He’s even got a pet bird with a name that matches yours, but I guess you don’t need new friends.” Kaito stood. “I’ll be taking my leave, in that case.”
Conan’s shouts of protest faded in the wind as he launched himself from the building using his hang glider and disappeared into the night. At least there were no soccer balls to dodge this time.
“You should be grateful, brat,” Kaito muttered as he touched down in an alleyway and performed a quick change into another disguise. “I gave you enough clues to find him yourself.”
Bonus: one thing NOT to do in quarantine
Do crime
“I’m fairly certain this violates social distancing!” Kaito yelled, dodging the Task Force’s most recent attempt to dogpile him.
“It’s a gathering of less than ten people,” Hakuba refuted with his usual smug tone. “I’d say it qualifies; and besides, you’re wearing a mask, so it’s fine.”
It was a gas mask, not that a surgical one, and he was all out of knockout gas, so he couldn’t use it to get away. “You still have to stay six feet away!”