Chapter Text
As the food cart rolled through the door, an inexplicable wave of nausea surged up his throat. The taste of metal spread across his tongue. Kudo Shinichi turned away and grabbed the trash bin by the bed, vomiting with violent heaves.
"Kudo-san!"
The nurse quickly pushed the tray back onto the cart and rushed to his side, patting his back in alarm. "Kudo-san! Are you alright? If you have no appetite today, don’t force yourself."
Kudo Shinichi gulped down a few mouthfuls of lukewarm water, trying to wash away the acrid taste clinging to his mouth. Another cramp twisted in his abdomen. He raised his head again, sweat breaking across his brow and neck, and spoke in a hoarse, desperate voice:
"...What day is it... cough ... What date?"
Since the most recent relapse, he’d hardly spoken at all. The strain on his vocal cords felt like swallowing a fishbone, raw and cutting. And now, opening his mouth again, his voice was completely wrecked—gravelly, barely audible, devoid of the deep magnetism it once held. Blood seeped across his tongue again, thick and metallic, and he clamped a trembling hand over his mouth.
It hurts so damn much...
"Sunday. June 21st. It’s Sunday. Please, just rest some more," the nurse said gently, blocking him from rising. With her other hand, she passed him a small paper cup.
Without a second thought, Kudo swallowed the red pill inside. The turmoil in his gut slowly subsided. He lowered the hand that had been pressed against his sternum and managed a weak, grateful smile.
Still uneasy, the nurse asked, "Should I call your attending physician? Have they come to check on you?"
" Cough... cough... " More flecks of blood escaped his lips. Kudo shook his head, grimacing in pain. "You..."
His eyes dropped to the ID badge pinned to her chest. She’d cared for him in the palliative ward for over a month now, diligently and carefully. And yet, not once had he asked her name. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the last day they saw each other.
"Anna-san... Thank you. But I know my body better than anyone... cough ... Tell me the truth... The roses at my bedside yesterday—they were from Kuroba Kaito, weren’t they?"
Anna hesitated, then nodded. "I know you told us to throw away anything he sends... but Kudo-san, sometimes... We need someone by our side. I once had a falling out with my father... I was young, didn’t know any better. I hated him for leaving, for not being around in my childhood. So when he came back at the end of his life, I lashed out.
"He only thought of me when he was dying, and maybe that’s his greatest regret. But I’ve never regretted being there with him, walking with him through the final stretch of his life. It was only then that I truly came to know him... to hear the stories he’d never told."
Her eyes locked onto his with a sudden clarity. "Even the strongest, most independent people—none of us are meant to face this alone."
Was that so?
Kudo Shinichi suddenly wanted to laugh. For over two decades, he’d been the representative of triumph and exuberance. Or at least, that’s how the world saw him: a shining career, impeccable education, a loving family, a graceful, beautiful wife—and a certain phantom thief he'd once dragged home from a crime scene.
Flashbulbs. Accolades. Love and admiration. But he alone knew it had all been the most beautiful lie.
A man who stood at the altar and vowed everlasting love—his wife, Mouri Ran—he knew. Those eyes of hers, the same ones that had seen through countless lies and solved countless cases... how could they not see the truths he tried so hard to hide behind smiles and words?
That picture-perfect marriage had long since fallen to ruin.
The terminal diagnosis came two months ago. But long before that, the two of them had been sharing a bed, yet dreaming entirely different dreams.
"I understand how you feel, Kudo-san. It’s alright... Will someone be coming to pick you up? Or should I call them for you?"
Kudo Shinichi slowly climbed out of bed, pulling the suit jacket off the back of the chair and slipping it on. He retrieved his wallet and ID from the safe, preparing to check himself out of the hospital.
"Kuroba Kaito. I asked Kaito to pick me up."
It was Kuroba Kaito’s birthday today. He just wanted to go home.
Anna’s eyes softened with quiet understanding. She handed him a small medicine pouch—morphine, for the pain. Though they were strangers, fleeting encounters like these, even those ending in farewell, were still a kind of bond.
"I’ll remember you, Meitantei Kudo Shinichi."
Kudo nodded, a dazed look in his eyes, before stumbling out of the hospital wing. He flagged down a cab and, breathlessly, began dialing Kuroba Kaito’s number.
The number you have dialed is unavailable. Please try again later.
The number you have dialed is unavailable. Please try again later.
"Damn it! Pick up, KID!"
The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror, but Kudo didn’t care. He gave the driver an address and began scrolling through his contact history.
All the messages stopped a week ago. Sonoko had simply texted, “You okay?” Ran had sent over an insurance claim form. Further down was a sealed chat with Yukiko—his mother. He’d blocked her. The diagnosis had shattered him, and he hadn’t had the strength to face anyone, not even his own mother. It was irresponsible—he knew—but as her son, the last thing he wanted was to pile his own collapse onto her, especially after she’d just lost her husband less than a year ago in an overseas sting operation gone wrong.
Before he was admitted, he’d given all his passwords and accounts to Kuroba Kaito, believing he could handle it all.
That was a week ago. The last time Kuroba had come to visit.
He brought white roses. Funeral ones. Kudo didn’t complain, just stared into his eyes and asked:
"You’ll take care of everything when I’m gone, right?"
"Don’t say that, Meitantei. I told you—I’ll find a way to save you."
But Kudo Shinichi wasn’t a fool. He heard the fear in Kuroba’s voice. Saw the guilt in his wavering eyes. It wasn’t grief—it was guilty.
"Meitantei... I’m sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" he said with a pale, broken smile.
He’d known for a while.
He’d figured out who Ran had been meeting under the pretense of overtime. He saw the blush that lingered too long on her cheeks, the unfamiliar words, the emotional manipulation. He’d seen the cracks in Kaito’s poker face and the subtle changes in his behavior. All signs.
Kudo had pieced it together, quietly, painfully.
"That’s enough," he had said, voice low.
"KID... don’t come see me again."
I don’t want to see you anymore.
So why, after finally leaving the palliative ward, was he so desperate to see that man first?
Kudo Shinichi all but collapsed out of the taxi. The driver jumped out in alarm, rushing to check on him. Kudo gripped the half-open car door with one hand while clutching his abdomen with the other, trembling on his knees in the roadside grass. He staggered and fell, his upper body hitting the ground. Bloodied palms barely held him upright as he struggled into a seated position, a string of silver saliva laced with blood stretching from the corner of his mouth.
"This isn't... this isn't my fault!" the driver frowned. "Don’t you dare leave me a bad review! You’re the one who’s sick, this has nothing to do with me!"
Still, he helped Kudo Shinichi to his feet, didn’t even ask for the fare, muttering under his breath as he rushed to leave the cursed scene behind: "Why the hell did I have to pick up a corpse... tch, tch, talk about bad luck. Bad luck!"
So then, why—why did he want to see him?
At the sound of a voice, Kudo Shinichi looked up and instantly recognized the silhouette cast in light on the bedroom wall. Perhaps they weren’t even trying to hide it, because even from several meters outside the apartment, he could clearly hear Ran’s voice from within the room, calling softly:
"Kaito-kun..."
Ran...
The doctors had warned him against intense physical exertion or emotional stress. But Kudo Shinichi had never been a good patient. He paid no heed to the signals of his deteriorating body—the dizziness, the pain. In a single lunge, he rushed up the stairs, gripping the metal railing with all his might, trying to force his legs to move faster, even as they felt weighed down with lead, even as his whole body trembled with fatigue.
Your body isn’t built to endure like this. Push it too far, and it will abandon you.
A flash of blinding white tore through the corner of his vision. Everything blurred. Kudo furrowed his brow, trying to focus, but nothing came into view—just blank white light. His foot slipped.
CLATTER—his phone slid from his fingers and crashed to the ground as he collapsed to his knees. Fortunately, his left hand gripped the railing tight, or he would’ve gone tumbling down the stairs.
"Ahh... haah... damn it..." The stabbing pain in his knees helped clear his head slightly. Bracing himself on the railing, Shinichi stood. His limbs felt heavier, slower than ever. He remembered the pills Anna had given him before he was leaving—painkillers and something else, meant to dull the senses and slow reflexes, to help him ease into the final stage of his life... not to aid him in barging in on an affair.
"Hah... to think I’d forget that, too. Even my brain’s giving up on me now, huh?"
The streetlights blurred into swirling vortices of light. The wind buzzed in his ears like a swarm of bees. Leaning against the stairwell, he tried to breathe deeply, but it felt like a boulder was lodged in his chest. His stomach twisted violently. Biting down on his lip until it bled, he moved again, one shoulder pressed against the wall.
Kudo Shinichi didn’t remember how long he walked, or how he even managed to find his keys. He stumbled, then collapsed right into Kuroba Kaito’s front entryway.
Not that it mattered—clearly, the people inside were too absorbed in their conversation to notice an uninvited guest had arrived.
"I went to the hospital today, but you didn’t even have your phone on. I know you were avoiding me on purpose, so I came to find you..."
Bracing himself against the cool tile wall of the kitchen, Kudo caught sight of Ran’s skirt hem peeking through the half-open bedroom door.
"I wasn’t avoiding you... there’s just nothing left to say between us." Kuroba Kaito’s voice was low.
"Don’t you want to know? About our baby...you want to feel it? "
God knows how much pain Kudo Shinichi had to endure just to keep from collapsing right there. He stared blankly at the pair, too stunned to process any coherent emotion.
The two people he trusted—loved—most in the world. What reaction was even left to him?
Ran stepped out at last. She wore a light, sky-blue dress. She took Kaito’s hand and gently placed it over her slightly rounded stomach.
"Amazing, right? I mean... Can you believe this is a two-month-old baby? The doctor says it’s too early to tell anything obvious now, but once..."
"Did you ever even love Kudo Shinichi?!" Kuroba Kaito, though his back was to Shinichi, clearly recoiled the instant his fingers brushed the fabric of Ran’s dress.
"What a pointless question. Don’t be an idiot like Shinichi, okay? Always chasing cases, always searching for truth... but the world isn’t just black and white anymore." Ran gave a sweet smile. "Anyway, it’s all for the best. My fate with Shinichi is over. Seems like God’s finally giving me the freedom to be with the one I love, openly, honestly. Aren’t you happy, Kaito?"
She leaned closer. "I know Shinichi kicked you out of the hospice room. I know he’s already started to suspect... Of course he has. Kudo Shinichi, Meitantei—there’s no way he didn’t know. But you still didn’t want to tell him. Why?"
Kuroba Kaito stayed silent for a long time before speaking. "Mouri Ran... don’t tell him. Please... don’t tell Meitantei. I’m begging you."
As if she’d just heard the funniest joke in the world, Mouri Ran burst into laughter.
"Oh? So do you really care about Shinichi that much?"
"... Just imagine his face when he finds out."
CRASH!
Kuroba Kaito and Mouri Ran turned, faces twisted with horror, staring at Kudo Shinichi—standing there amid the shattered remains of a vase.
"Meitantei... you... you heard everything..."
His body had never hurt this badly. His heart had never felt so crushed. And yet, Kudo Shinichi had never been clearer.
He bolted. The world spun, tilted downward, as if someone were pressing his head into the pavement and dragging him along the asphalt. Behind him, Kuroba Kaito’s footsteps chased after.
"Meitantei!!" Kuroba Kaito sprinted down the apartment corridor, reaching out to catch the hem of his shirt flapping in the wind. "Don’t run, Meitantei! It’s dangerous! The doctor said—"
Finally, Shinichi shouted, voice hoarse and broken:
"What did the doctor say?! Don’t do this, don’t do that? Or…… the fact that I’m dying?! And what, he wants to stop me now?!"
The world spun. Collapsed. Shattered.
Kuroba Kaito’s mouth opened and closed, trying to say something. But to Shinichi, it didn’t matter anymore.
He finally remembered why he had wanted to see KID one last time.
That person was the one he trusted most, the one he loved the deepest. Though he had never admitted it aloud, he had allowed that person to exist within his world. And yet, it was also that very person who had utterly, irreparably destroyed everything.
Kudo Shinichi wanted to see Ran and Kuroba Kaito—he wanted to leave, when the time came, without regret or lingering attachment. He just hadn’t expected it to be so painfully real, so unbearably cruel.
So this was what it felt like to be betrayed by the one you love.
Kuroba Kaito was breathless as he caught up with Kudo, who wasn’t walking fast. He opened his mouth, perhaps to explain or to apologize—but Kudo struck back violently.
A shadow flashed across his vision. Everything happened too fast for Kudo to think. The drug dulled his brain to the point where he could no longer resist… no longer protect himself…
Time seemed to slow. The magician's palm pressed against Shinichi’s chest, then a powerful force launched him out of the corridor, toward the towering moon and pitch-black sky. For the first time, Kudo Shinichi felt he was so close—so close—to the moon…
"Meitantei!!!!"
Dark crimson blood silently seeped into the grass. A single clear tear had long since vanished.
Love…? That never existed, did it?
If only he could start over again…
If only… If only…
If everything could start over, I want to live. Not for truth, not for justice—
but for my own happiness.
"Shinichi… Shinichi! Wake up!"
He jolted awake, eyes wide open, staring unblinking at the face hovering above him. Long black hair brushed his cheek—ticklish. Ran's hands were on either side of him. She kissed him sweetly on the cheek.
"You okay? You’ve been mumbling in your sleep since a while ago. Something about… Kaito, and Ran. You said you’d never forgive us..." Ran narrowed her eyes, smiling teasingly. "Who's Kaito, huh? Shinichi, are you cheating on me in your dreams?"
If this were before, Kudo Shinichi would have blushed and denied it furiously, dodging her playful punches and scrambling to escape with a stammered apology.
But… What was this?
A dream?
Didn’t I die? …How am I…?
He stared blankly at his hands, touched his face, then leapt off the bed and dashed to the mirror. What stared back at him wasn't the paper-pale face of a vampire, nor a sickly, skeletal figure—
but flushed cheeks, healthy skin, a strong and solid frame…
"Shinichi, if you don’t hurry, Inspector Megure’s going to call again," Ran’s voice came from behind. Kudo turned to her, frowning. "Inspector Megure? What about him?"
"He needs you. The whole First Division needs you! Didn’t you see the case on the news?" Ran bit into a piece of toast. "Isn’t that the one he asked you to look into a few days ago? Shinichi, don’t tell me you forgot everything after one nap."
He hadn't seen it yet, but the moment he glanced at the TV headline, Kudo Shinichi froze. He lunged for the remote, stepped forward, and turned the volume to max.
"The police are currently pursuing several suspects, focusing on areas in Tokyo’s Chiyoda and Ikebukuro districts. Despite their efforts, no progress has been made. As of today, the so-called "Equation Killer" has claimed five victims—four college students and one graduate student. Three of the victims attended the same university. Although no clear connections have been found among the dead, police are not ruling out a possible case of random campus killings."
Forget? How could he forget this case?
The Equation Killer—a professor renowned in the academic world, who used his status and profession to turn university campuses into his hunting ground. His targets were always beautiful young men and women. His methods were subtle, his cruelty extreme. Even with the Metropolitan Police’s full investigative team, he could do nothing to this killer. They had psychological profiles, behavioral analysis—but no hard evidence.
The professor's alibis were airtight; it was nearly impossible to catch him slipping.
Back then… he had to resort to illegal methods to bring that devil down.
And it was through this very case that he first met KID— Kuroba Kaito, then a third-year student enrolled in the professor’s course.
Wait—
Kudo Shinichi suddenly remembered something. He frantically switched to the weather channel, eyes locking on the bottom of the screen.
The date.
No way.
He… had returned—reborn, three years into the past.
No… no, it can’t be…
"Are you even listening to me, Kudo Shinichi?! I’m heading out—Sonoko’s meeting me at the subway. Don’t slack off just because you graduated early! You’d better get to the precinct."
Ran hugged him from behind. Kudo froze. When she puckered up for a goodbye kiss, he instinctively turned his face away. Her sweet, innocent smile twisted in his memory, replaced by the soft, cunning smiles of another life. Her loving voice became sinister whispers.
"…I… I haven’t washed my face yet. Don’t you have class at eight? And I’d hate to ruin your makeup. Bye, be careful."
Ran didn’t suspect anything. She gave a few more reminders, handed him a bento, and left—never realizing that the moment she was gone, Kudo shoved the box straight into the fridge.
He had just seen off Mouri Ran, the woman who, in his last life, had indirectly led to his death.
Thump-thump-thump—
He turned, leaning against the fridge, gasping for breath. Slowly, he slid to the floor, burying his head in his arms. The tiles were cold. The side of the fridge radiated warmth. Everything felt so real—and yet so utterly incomprehensible.
Kudo Shinichi was a detective. He had always upheld science and objective logic as sacred. He had prided himself on his calm mind and analytical prowess.
And now, he was being forced to accept this unexplainable reality.
Bzz bzz bzz—
His phone buzzed, Inspector Megure’s voice came through: "Kudo! There’s been another murder! This time in T- University’s gym storage! Can you come? Sato will send the location."
He wanted to say no.
After all, he needed time to process this impossible rebirth—and prevent his own death. The last thing he needed was a murder case clouding his thoughts.
"...Alright. Send it to me." After a beat of hesitation, Kudo Shinichi agreed.
He was going to meet Kuroba Kaito—the very man who had killed him in his previous life.
The taxi took less than twenty minutes to drop him off at the university gates. Kudo stepped over the police cordon with ease. Inside, the scene was exactly as he remembered: the twenty-year-old male victim hung from a piece of gym equipment. The killer had no intention of staging an accidental death—he had simply suspended the body midair, letting it dangle and spin before the crowd like a performer basking under a spotlight.
Everything matched his memory. The fatal wound, the knots, the layout of the crime scene, and the system of equations scrawled in blood by the victim—solve for x, y, z, and you'd get the time of the next murder.
"Kudo, any thoughts?" Inspector Megure asked. Kudo lifted the tape and tossed out a reply: "Just going to take a look around."
Kudo couldn't afford to have thoughts. Not yet. He couldn't reveal future events just because he remembered them from his past life.
He had graduated from this same university in his last life too, but barely spent any time on campus. Most of his courses were remote, and his visits were rare. He was unfamiliar with the grounds. On that day, he had wandered aimlessly, eventually trailing a crowd into a clubroom and stumbling across a real-life international fugitive.
This time, he skipped the wandering. He weaved through the rush of students heading to their 9AM lectures. Kudo Shinichi knew exactly where to go.
On the way, he finally pinpointed the source of the pressure gnawing at his gut. As he neared the venue, the fog lifted, he knew what was going to happen, what was he going to do.
He was here for revenge. Revenge on Mouri Ran and Kuroba Kaito—who had betrayed and murdered him in his past life.
But when he opened the clubroom door, it wasn’t Kuroba Kaito rehearsing on stage. Instead, the president of the drama club was auditioning new members. He frowned and asked, "Sorry—I thought this was the magic club’s slot... Did I mix up the time or the location?"
A nearby student replied, "You're right, this is the magic club’s space. But the guy in charge canceled the reservation about an hour ago. Called us and asked if we wanted to fill in. Said there was a problem with the props and they couldn’t rehearse."
What ?... Has his rebirth already altered the past? Had showing up early changed Kuroba Kaito’s schedule?
No. Impossible.
Still stewing in confusion, Kudo heard the answer from behind—a familiar voice.
"Sorry, sorry! Finally got it—turned out I had the wrong shipping code all along... Sakamoto, my bad. You don’t mind us using the backstage area, right?"
The young man who entered looked exactly as he had in Kudo’s memory. Kaito even reacted with faint surprise upon seeing him. In the previous life, Kudo had recognized KID immediately—shocked and excited. In this life, he thought he could stay calm and indifferent. But he still couldn’t tear his eyes away.
"If you came for the show, you're a little early," Kuroba Kaito said from the doorway.
No more cryptic games like last time. No letting Kaito lead him on a pointless tour full of detours and idle talk. Kudo Shinichi cut to the chase.
"You’re Kuroba Kaito, right? I’m here for you. Got a minute?"
In his previous life, he’d met KID on this very day, watched him perform an unforgettable escape act on an underground stage. Only three years later did he find out that Ran had also met Kuroba Kaito that same day—here, hidden among the crowd. Had he, in his past life, foolishly set a fox to keep the geese? Had he buried his own future with this?
"It won’t just be a minute," he corrected himself. "Sorry. I actually need you to cancel your morning plans. We need to talk. You’ve probably heard about the string of murders at Tokyo University in the news?"
"Yeah..." Kuroba Kaito gave a signal to the others to keep practicing, threw on a jacket, and stepped outside with Kudo.
"So you're...?"
"I’ve got a few leads. For instance, I think all the murders were discovered in the morning, which means the killer likely knows the university’s schedule well—knows when and where to move bodies, or strike. And all the victims were students. No signs of struggle on the bodies. Maybe the killer drugged them. Or maybe the victims didn’t see them as a threat."
"What’s your point?" Kaito cut him off.
"I think the suspect could be a teacher. Or a lecturer who rotates between campuses. And I noticed you’re enrolled in Economics 101—a general ed course. That same lecturer also teaches at the universities the other victims attended. So I need to ask you about them."
Kudo added, "I’m working with the police. Naturally, I have access to course registration records."
Armed with memories from his previous life, Kudo had no intention of letting the killer rack up ten bodies before being caught. He remembered every victim, every location. He had to find the flaw, bait the killer into a trap—before the next strike.
"And you just happened to spot my name? Came straight for me?" Kuroba Kaito laughed, amused. Kudo smirked and pointed to the bulletin board—specifically, the magic club’s recruitment poster, where Kaito and the other officers were printed in full color. Impossible to miss. Especially for a detective who’d seen KID’s face before.
"Yeah, hard to miss," Kaito admitted, realizing how ridiculous it was to expect Meitantei to pretend they didn’t know each other.
He checked his phone. "I’ll answer your questions. But only after breakfast. I can’t think straight on an empty stomach."
Stepping out of the University of Tokyo seemed to shed away that uncomfortable strangeness. Before him, a pork-and-egg burger and salad gleamed in the sunlight, just like Kuroba's easy, sky-bright smile. Kudo Shinichi swallowed a mouthful of saliva. "Sorry for the bill. I didn’t bring money with me this morning. "
In the previous life, they’d never visited this restaurant. Instead, they'd wandered the university, testing each other in subtle, winding ways. But this time, the timeline had shifted. Perhaps it was because Kudo had taken matters into his own hands.
"Don't mention it," Kuroba said, passing him utensils. "Called in at dawn to investigate a case, I bet you didn’t get a proper breakfast, did you?"
Kudo had underestimated the toll youth and neglect could take. Irregular habits, overwork, and chronic disregard for his health had triggered an incurable illness. And yet, here was Kuroba—the one who was constantly skipping meals—seriously lecturing him about eating properly?
"What are you smiling at?" Kuroba glanced over. "Do I have something on my face?"
"Ketchup," Kudo pointed to the corner of Kuroba’s mouth. "That lecture starts at ten, right? If you're free, could you take me there...?"
"No problem. But how are you so sure it’s that professor? He’s a distinguished guest lecturer with an excellent reputation. My roommate even went to one of his book signings."
Of course, it wasn’t that professor. This was simply Kudo’s way of steering Kuroba away. He wasn’t ready—not yet—for Kuroba and Mouri Ran to cross paths again.
"A stellar reputation doesn’t mean anything. Faces are easy to read. Hearts aren’t."
Kuroba quickly polished off the last bites of his burger, swiped Kudo’s empty wrappers and paper cup, and even snatched away Kudo’s half-full coffee. "If you want to avoid gastritis, lay off the coffee and irritating food., those will wreck your stomach."
Just like in the past life—Kudo fed Kuroba's curiosity about the case, and in return, Kuroba filled the air with a steady stream of chatter: about anything, everything. Never tiresome, never dull. But unlike this time Kudo already knew this man. Already knew the stories, the words, the tone. Back then, he had still been obsessing over how to catch KID. But not this time.
Kudo would be the one to deal with the man who had once betrayed and killed him.
"You really think the lecturer’s the killer?" Kuroba squinted as he jotted down class notes. Kudo asked softly, "Why are you so interested? Thinking of joining the investigation?"
"Please," Kuroba rolled his eyes. "If he’s getting arrested in a few days, why should I waste my time writing his term paper?"
"Fair point," Kudo chuckled. "But I’m serious. If you helped investigate this, you might save a lot of innocent lives."
Kuroba gave him a sidelong glance, one that carried more weight than words. "Save people? Why would I do that? If I couldn't even save the person closest to me... why should I save strangers?"
And for once, Meitantei had no answer.Saving people had never required a reason. That was his core belief. He simply acted. Kudo remembered—Kuroba had once spoken about the regrets of his father, Kuroba Toichi. Kudo raised his voice, "You didn’t have the power then. But you do now. You have the chance to stop other parents from losing their children. Isn’t that enough?"
Kuroba smiled wryly. "I don’t mean to argue. It’s just... saving people isn’t my forte. I don’t know if I can help you."
"The Kaitou KID I knew saved countless lives."
But you killed me in the end.
Kuroba’s eyes flickered. Then came that familiar grin. "Well then, thank you for the praise, Meitantei. So... what do you want me to do?"
"Be the bait. Invite the killer out."
And say… Kuroba Kaito—How do you want to die?