Chapter Text
Conan Edogawa always enjoyed going to Kid heists. They provided a good opportunity to test his mental capacity, going head-to-head with the infamous criminal. The two of them played their roles to the fullest: a detective and a phantom thief constantly outsmarting each other. Intricate magic tricks kept Conan on his toes, always having to put his guard up whenever Kaitou Kid was involved. There were no murders. No dead victims. No potential violent crime going unsolved. Just a simple cat-and-mouse game with tricks and magic.
Most of the time, at least.
This heist went differently.
This heist went wrong.
A gunshot ruptured through the presentation hall, prompting pure chaos from the audience. The bullet had pierced Kid's abdomen. His pure white suit was now stained with blood, and with the spotlights aimed directly at him, the blood looked even more vibrant and crimson. People ducked their heads and ran about in a fit of fear hoping to avoid the anonymous gunman. Inspector Nakamori shouted out orders in vain to try and calm everyone. Meanwhile, Conan kneeled down and turned on his night vision mode on his glasses.
Who fired that shot?
A dark figure was seen exiting the room. He glanced towards the stage where Kid previously stood, now vacant due to the wounded thief using a smoke bomb to escape.
Conan now had to make a choice: chase after the culprit, or find Kaitou Kid?
He knew Kid could easily take care of himself. During the imperial egg heist, Scorpion had sniped him right out of the sky. Everyone thought he was dead, but when he returned disguised as Detective Shiratori, it was a miracle. It was a testament of his skills. He’s had his fair share of dealing with the underworld. Even if Kid was immobilized, his assistant would step in.
If Conan let the criminal go, there’s the possibility more people could get hurt, or worse, killed. The logical option would be to chase after the shooter to prevent any more harm.
However, the detective didn’t listen to his own reasoning.
He takes off, snatching a radio from a nearby officer.
“Hey!”
“I’m borrowing this!”
Conan turns the dial on the speaker while running down the stairs to the ground floor.
“Inspector! The shooter will most likely make his way towards the west wing. It’s the closest exit without any security currently posted there, and the door leads to a backroad where an escape vehicle could park. Please have your men be ready to apprehend him once he exits the building!”
“Wha- How do you-?!”
“Hurry!”
The inspector muttered some less-than-ideal words to say in front of a child, but eventually resigned. The amount of authority and anger Conan’s voice carried made Nakamori second guess if he was really talking to a seven year old.
“You heard him! Head towards the west wing!”
After confirming the police’s mobilization, Conan put the radio away and continued running down the stairs, adrenaline coursing through him.
Please be alright…
Conan slammed open the side door leading outside. With his moniker of “Kid Killer”, Advisor Suzuki had allowed him to see the building layout, providing the detective a chance to memorize it. He recorded possible escape routes the thief would likely use tonight. His deductions were proven to be correct; faint bloody footprints led from a vent to the exit Kid used.
Conan turned on the flashlight on his watch and looked around for any signs of the phantom thief. He spotted drops of blood on the grass- still fresh. The trail led to a secluded spot in the nearby forest, hidden by bushes. Conan rushed past the wildlife, giving himself small scratches from the sharp thorns but quickly dismissing them. When he came across a clearing, he discovered-
Red.
A pool of blood slowly creeping out under the body.
Long hair sprawled on the ground.
A soft piano melody.
Flames burning everywhere-
“...Great detective?”
Conan quickly snapped out of his trance and fully looked at the injured thief. He was laying down on his side, slightly curled into himself. His top hat had fallen beside him, and the previously pristine white suit was stained with his blood. Beads of sweat were present on Kid’s face, still partially obscured by his monocle.
“Kid!” Conan rushed to his side and kneeled down to examine the injury.
“Didn’t think you would f-find me so quickly… Were you that concerned for me? I’m flattered, honestly.”
“Shut up, I couldn’t just leave you alone after you got shot. How are you feeling? What’s your condition?”
“Hazy, vision blurry...Tried taking some meds. Not really w-working.” Kid nudged his head towards a hidden stash of emergency supplies. “I’ve got a solution in the gray canister over t-there, think you could help me apply it?”
Conan inspected the nearby bushes and found a box camouflaged by paint. He rummaged through the contents before finding said canister and a handcloth. When he opened the bottle, the smell of alcohol permeated the air.
“What is this?”
“My own little c-concoction I made for situations like these.”
Conan poured a bit of liquid onto the cloth and proceeded to unbutton Kid’s suit and lift up his shirt, revealing the hole in his abdomen. He grimaced upon seeing it. The detective had seen plenty of gruesome murders and injuries. Gunshot wounds, stab wounds, beheadings, burnt corpses, crushed bodies. They never got easier to look at, especially on someone he personally knew. Conan whispered a soft apology before applying the cloth, knowing it would sting.
Kid let out a quiet hiss when the soaked cloth touched his skin. He attempted to fight the urge to retreat as the alcohol burned his flesh.
“Hold still for just a second.” Conan slipped his blue blazer off and tied it around Kid’s stomach to keep the cloth in place. As he was tying the knot, he noticed Kid was shaking.
He’s in shock.
Conan briefly glanced around for anything he could use as a blanket before eyeing the cape Kid was wearing. He unclipped the cloth from his shoulders and wrapped the thief in it.
“You’ve lost way too much blood. Going to a hospital is our best option…”
Kid twitched in retaliation. “No way. I haven’t worked this hard just to get unmasked by some doctors now.”
“Then where the hell is your assistant? They didn’t get caught as well, did they?”
“No, no…They’re fine. Just not part of the heist plan this t-time.”
Conan looked grimly at Kid. The scene he took in was appalling. The untouchable phantom thief he’d been chasing for so long lay hurt and vulnerable right in front of the detective. Seeing Kid wrapping himself in bandages when they were in Singapore didn’t even compare. It reminded him of the poor dove that had been injured when Scorpion tried to assassinate Kid.
Helpless. Flightless.
You have to save him.
Conan dug his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Professor Agasa’s number.
“Shinichi? What’s wrong, I thought you were at the heist tonight?”
“There was a shooter here. I need you to come to my location to take us to the Beika hospital-”
Kid’s eyes snapped open upon hearing his words and latched onto Conan’s hand holding the phone.
“No hospital.”
Conan felt Kid’s arm shaking with either desperation or because he was in shock. Perhaps a mix of both. Without thinking, he gently held the gloved hand with his own in a small attempt to reassure him.
“...My parents can deal with the staff so that they keep quiet. We can whip up a story about you being an innocent bystander at the heist and getting shot when you got in the way of the shooter. You can even use Shinichi Kudo’s identity.”
Kid seemed to consider his words for a moment. He glanced up, and their eyes met. His expression was…vulnerable. It was the first time he's seen the phantom thief like this. Their previous encounters were defined as battles of wits; rivals who never showed weakness to each other. This was a rare moment where Kid was so exposed.
“...I’ll trust you” Kid sighed and reluctantly let go of his hand.