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Not a lot of people knows this, but outside of reading books growing up, Shinichi had taught himself to compose music too. Because as much as he admires Sherlock, he doesn't want to be a copy of him so he taught himself to use the violin as a means to compose songs too instead of just learning how to play it.
His songs are always with scores and notes he's written, never playing it by ear. He's a detective after all and music, like math, is as logical as they come. Another factor about his songs is that each song he composes is always about the people in his life.
His parents.
The professor.
Ran.
Haibara.
The Tantei-dan.
Sonoko, Hattori, Sera.
Division One, the FBI, CIA, and NPA.
All of them have scores of their own.
All except for one.
Out of all the people in his life, there's only one person Shinichi can never write down the notes for despite the fact that Shinichi can compose songs about everyone else with relative ease as the notes fly across the scores.
But not this one.
No matter how hard he tries, no matter how long he's at it, the notes refused to be written down. It's as if the music for this one person and this person alone is just too big, too much for any score or note hope to contain.
Frustrated, annoyed and seeing no other option, Shinichi makes the decision to do what he's never done before ever since he learned how to play. Grabbing his violin, Shinichi goes to the library, locks the door and for the first time in his life, Shinichi braces himself to play the music that only he can hear without a score. He takes a fortifying breath, focusing on the writhing melody that's beating like a dark, wild thing in his ribcage waiting to burst.
The bow hovers--
(He accepts the whisper in his mind that this may be the most dangerous thing he's ever done)
--before his fingers fly across the strings of his violin.
(He wants it anyway)
And the music comes to life in an uncontrollable chaotic, dark and playful frenzy.
There's no rhyme nor reason as he plays. Its crazed and dark and utterly spellbinding. It sings of moonlit heists and deranged grins. Sings of magic, riddles and playful banters. Sings of a noble heart and a vengeful mind
Sings of a trust, unconditional.
Shinichi plays for the phantom, the magician, the thief, the man who loves wholly and chaotically.
Plays until his fingers bleed, until his choked laughter is the only thing that echoes in the dark library as tears streamed down his face.
Because he should've known that Kaitou KID - that Kuroba Kaito - can never be contained in a mere score.
How can he? This is the man who makes the impossible, possible after all. How can Shinichi's feelings for the incorrigible thief even hoped to be translated into a few notes on paper?
Shinichi thought his love for Ran, his 1st love thats as sweet as the person herself, is something he cant possibly equate to as he once confessed in London so long ago.
But as Shinichi lies amongst crumpled scores in the dark library on the verge of insanity, bleeding fingers covering his face as his laughter and cries echo against the walls, Shinichi realises that his love for Kaito will forever eclipse everything else.
Never caged. Impossible to contain.
His everything.
His truth.