Chapter Text
Black to blue.
Oh, not THIS again.
Blue to gold.
Of course "this" again, Kudo-kun. Kaito-kun knows we relish breaking the law and being shot at by criminal syndicates.
Gold to green.
Put a sock in it, Hakuba. I like watching heists from here.
Green to gold-blue-gold and stereo.
DON'T ENCOURAGE HIM!
Green.
Heh heh heh... gonna catch Kid SO easy once we get our bodies back...
Kaitou Kid flipped the bird at his own monocled eye. Stupid heist. No, stupid running commentary trying to distract him while he was busy sneaking towards his entry point. Or, rather, his Grand Appearance Point.
His hand shot out, grabbing an umbrella from a nearby stand and snapping it over his shoulder.
*CLANG* The blow reverberated through his wrist, tingling oddly from the umbrella's tines.
Watch out for the swordsman, by the way.
"Thank you so much for the warning, Tantei-han," Kaitou hissed, pivoting neatly on one heel and raising the closed umbrella like a kendo sword. Which, since that was NOT in Kid's mannerisms or Kaito's instincts, was beyond scary, but still trumped by the gleam of dark red eyes over a still-sheathed katana. An authentic one, with a real blade, if Kaito was any judge of expensive and illegal artifacts.
That it was being borne by a scowling kid (not a child, Kaito-kun, do note the man's proportions) dressed in black from head to toe (BLACK ORG! RUN ALREADY!) did NOT help the cacophony in Kaito's head.
The dark red gaze fell to Kid's makeshift weapon. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," the boy growled, voice far too deep for any kid.
"Well," Kid replied, "usually, I would be. But I'm on a bit of a schedule."
The not-a-kid paused. "You're Kaitou Kid."
Kaito's fingers twitched on his pink smoke bombs.
Blue.
The suit wasn't a dead giveaway?
Abruptly, the not-a-kid straightened out of his ready stance, sword disappearing into his coat. Kaito almost dropped the smoke bomb on pure instinct.
"We never saw each other," the not-a-kid told him, before flickering from sight.
That... was surreal, Kaito thought, warily replacing the umbrella and glancing at his watch.
Gold.
Your watch is fifty-two seconds fast. You're only eight point three seconds late for your own heist.
"Oh, shut up."