Chapter Text
It was a simple metal nameplate, nothing distinguishing it from any other nameplate found in front of a house. If anything, it was a little too plain and utilitarian considering who resided in there. Shinichi glared at it all the same, a deep seethed ire as if it were recasted from the same metal pipe that brought an end to his teenage bravado and naivety.
In a way, this innocent nameplate did mark the end — like a film's core mystery being spoiled because of a loud-mouthed asshole shouting the twist in the middle of a theatre. Even if the conclusion was satisfyingly evidenced and built-up, even if there was genuine joy in the journey the film had taken his audience on, the abrupt reveal forever marred the memory and experience.
Kuroba
The man behind the monocle, the true name of KID the Phantom Thief.
Hakuba stood beside him in respectful silence, the only person who could possibly come close to sympathising with how the chase had come to its spoiled end.
"My mother was mentored by Kuroba Touichi. They kept it touch over the years until his untimely passing, met fairly regularly too." Shinichi said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "She tried dragging me along, multiple times. Said her sensei had a son my age." He snorted. "Back then I thought I didn't need anything other than Holmes and Ran."
Hakuba winced. It was a little tactless on Shinichi's part but he had no tolerance for additional pretences on top of the one that brought them to this damning nameplate.
"We were classmates in high school." An admission and a quiet offering. "My first girlfriend was his childhood friend."
"Aoko-san." If Shinichi was even more tactless, he would have added that Hakuba had a type. But then he remembered—"Nakamori Aoko-san."
Hakuba nodded across the gate. "The Nakamoris live next door."
Shinichi gave a harsh ugly laugh, startling Hakuba and likely alerting the homeowner of their presence (as if he didn't have eyes on them long before they landed on his doorstep).
The audacity of it all. Living next door to the inspector charged with his capture, being friends with said inspector's daughter — no, those relationships would have come first. It made it all the more ludicrous that this Kuroba would still take up the phantom thief mantle with that background.
Shinichi expected nothing less from KID.
"He has multiple alibis." Hakuba said weakly, as if the heists hadn't become elaborate games on the taxpayers' yen with no one involved truly wanting to arrest the thief.
Shinichi snorted. "People will overlook the truth for what they want to see."
The evidence was there if someone had truly wanted to look—but no one did. KID had all of them wrapped around his nimble fingers.
Magicians made their living because people wanted to be fooled, to let their tricks and misdirections create the illusion that magic could truly be real. It was the core contract made whenever the magician took the stage.
And then KID tore that contract in two.
A doorbell echoed from inside the house despite no one actually pushing it. It didn't take a detective to figure out their host had grown impatient with their loitering.
The door was thrown open by a shirtless man with his demeanour the perfect picture of Shinichi when he was rudely awoken at an ungodly hour on a weekend morning —the uncanny resemblance further hammered in with how unnervingly similar the man looked. All teasing and pretence considering KID had set the time and place.
Shinichi's first thought was that he must be wearing fake skin since KID definitely had several scars across his torso—some Shinichi had stitched personally. His second was that he was surprisingly more muscular that KID's lean figure implied—his suit must smooth out a lot of his definition. His third realised he had been ogling longer than it was socially acceptable at a 'stranger's' bare chest .
KID knew exactly what reaction answering the door like that would earn. Bastard thief.
Shinichi resisted the urge to bristle when those sharp moonlight eyes—that sought him out every heist, that lit up whenever he tore through his latest disguise, that gleamed as he explained how he dismantled every trick on those clandestine rooftops— completely passed over him for Hakuba.
He let out a long fuming exhale. This was all for pretence. No need to grill grilled mochi over it. Civilian KID, Kuroba, didn't know Kudou Shinichi—why would he be spared a second glance?
"You may be the man of the hour, but it isn't this fucking hour, Hakubastard." Kuroba crudely spat out with none of KID's elegance of manners.
"I texted you last night." Hakuba said, dry and unfazed as if he actually had organised this rather than KID stealing his phone last heist to sock-puppet a whole message chain. "We have only so much time before the wedding."
Kuroba's scowl deepened, filled with as much vitriol as Furuya whenever Akai entered the room. Such raw emotion that KID would never reveal—yet still all perfectly stage. "Right, where you made the biggest asshole move of having your ex-girlfriend as your best woman."
Hakuba's stiff upper lip gave way to the slightest slip of guilt. "I asked you."
"And I said no because one of us had to stay mad after you dumped my best friend on her anniversary and Ahoko's equal parts saint and fool." There was more nuance to the case that had ended in Hakuba and Aoko's amicable breakup wrapped up in confidential files and red tape. Shinichi had been there, as had KID— but Kuroba the Civilian it seemed was left uninformed. "You're damn lucky she's also friends with Ran-san. They're both too good for you."
At least they were all in agreement with that. Ran was an angel too good for anyone. Hakuba really was a lucky bastard for her to grace him with the rest of her life.
This was all so the two of them would live long enough to have that life.
Then finally, finally, Kuroba turned to Shinichi. It was a barely interested side glace, still simmering with faux residual irritation at Hakuba—but Shinichi saw it. That spark of KID, that mischievous little gleam meant only for him, cheekily asking are you enjoying the show, Meitantei?
"So this is the disaster man of honour?" Kuroba asked nonchalantly, all of KID's energy tightly lidded behind his civilian mask yet so obviously on the brink of boiling. "Doesn't look like the type to only have one good suit then ruining it at a wild stag party."
"It wasn't just one suit." Shinichi bit out with true barely concealed irritation — KID was nothing if not thorough and his entire wardrobe suffered for the sake of this act.
"Kudou Shinichi, Ran's closest friend and a fellow detective." Hakuba introduced, finally fulfilling his role in this whole charade. "Kudou-kun, this is Kuroba Kaito, my friend."
There it was — Kaitou KID's full name completely spoiled.
"As if that isn't an embarrassingly short list." Kuroba scoffed, despite his cheeks colouring.
A genuine slip of emotion—Shinichi so desperately wanted to lean over and cause more, to pick at every weak point of KID's masks until he crumbled to pieces before him. To expose that closely guarded noble heart and pluck it straight out of his chest.
"It's nice to meet you, Kuroba-san." Shinichi said with a slight bow, leaning into polite formalities to resist the urge of falling into familiar exchanges while they could still be overheard. "I am in your care."
"Likewise, Kudou-san." Kuroba said, bowing in return. "At least some detectives still have manners. C'mon in, wedding's tomorrow, right? It takes time to work a miracle and I've seen enough Hakubastard's face for one day."
Then Shinichi was suddenly yanked into the house as the door was unceremoniously slammed behind him.
Shinichi became very aware that Kuroba was still shirtless—his face all but mushed against between a pair of well toned pectorals while a pair of shapely arms rested on the small of his back. Yes, KID had very lovely muscles from scaling buildings and dangling off balconies.
"And here I thought he would never leave." A voice so deep and smooth that it curled like dark waves and smothered him like honey. KID had finally made his appearance.
"You're the one who used Hakuba-kun as an introduction point." Shinichi said petulantly, mustering his lingering irritation and annoyance to dampen the slowly rising heat.
KID—Kuroba? No, KID grinned down at him, mouth opened a little too wide and all his teeth bared. "What were you expecting with this little favour of yours? I simply knock out and replace the groom while his bride and her former lover conspire behind his back?"
Shinichi's face immediately heated. "Don't say it like that! It sounds like we're planning a murder."
"No, just trying to stop one." KID, no—Kuroba sobered surprisingly quickly.
Kuroba's friends were being targeted as well. Hakuba, Aoko, and likely a fair chunk of the groom's side considering they were all entrenched in law enforcement. If it weren't for Shinichi's desperate selfish favour, Kuroba would have been completely unaware of the danger they were in.
The unspoken question weighs heavily in the air. KID didn't have to reveal his identity for this favour to work—especially considering how he and Hakuba were apparently well acquainted. The two of them could have easily made arrangements while preserving the mystery of KID.
KID's face—his voice, his mannerisms, his everything, was precisely configured to mislead and misdirect. A man with so many masks it was a wonder if there was still an actual person beneath them all. But still—
Shinichi was pressed against a bare chest starting to slick with nervous sweat. His ear was directly above an erratically beating heart.
An unspoken question, a spoiled game…and a quiet leap of faith.
(Or all an elaborate mind game—the damn thief would never be above that.)
Shinichi looked up at him, locking his gaze on those unreadable moonlight eyes. "I think your parents spent way too much time around my parents if they named you Kaito."
"Or yours spent too much time around mine, One Truth-tantei." Kuroba said lightly with an English flourish as his heartbeat steadied beneath Shinichi. "Birds of a feather get along like a house on fire."
Shinichi scoffed. "You're butchering English idioms."
"It's not as if that language isn't butchered as it is."
They fall into banter like an old dance, maybe still a little off beat from the new tune but secure in the rapport of a familiar partner. It reminded Shinichi when he reconnected with the Shounen Tantei — or rather, when those devilish brats stormed back into life while he was still trying to find where a former teen detective belonged in a world that left him behind.
Kudou Shinichi was not Edogawa Conan. Though Shinichi no longer had the masks and secrets that kept a distance between Conan and the Shounen Tantei, the decade between that now lay between them was a much solid barrier. He couldn't be with them every day—couldn't sit in class with them, play soccer at recess then run off together after school. Then even outside of classes and cases, a young adult had more responsibilities eating into their time compared to a gaggle of young children. He was simply too old, too distant from them. That had been his sombre explanation to the three round faces battering at his door until he opened.
But they shot back with a compelling retort: Edogawa Conan was Kudou Shinichi. He still loved solving mysteries and playing soccer. He was still wicked smart and filled with dry wit—now with age to explain why he knew so many things than them. No matter what name or age he was, he was still their friend.
So Shinichi could work with this. Find where Kuroba Kaito added to his existing relationship with Kaitou KID, what gaps that would fill and what new bridges would need to be built.
As for why Kuroba chose to reveal himself now—well, while magicians never revealed their secrets, detectives were made to uncover the truth.
The chest beneath Shinichi rumbled with an amused chuckle, so very similar to KID yet more open and exposed—apart from the skin to skin contact. "I can hear the gears turning in that big head of yours, Meitantei. What has the illustrious Heisei Holmes deduced about this humble magician?" Then his voice dropped to a sultry tone that reverberated through from his chest to Shinichi. "Or are you simply relishing in your very privileged position?"
Right. Shinichi hadn't forgotten while also having completely forgotten. Even if they weren't strangers, this was still a very compromising position. The only way to make it even more so was if they were literally on top of each other.
Shinichi absolutely blamed the many times KID had carried and cradled Conan for his instinctive reaction to hug Kuroba's familiar form closer rather than jerk away.
"It's my consolation prize." Shinichi said as he purposely snuggled closer. KID had perfect control over his face and voice but there was little he could hide with Shinichi literally against his heart. "It wouldn't be a fair play capture since you gave me your legal name and home address. You've disqualified me from the chase."
"That's never stopped Hakuba." Kuroba said, musing rather than defensive.
Hakuba had been characterised to the point of caricature by the tabloids for his tendency question culprits on their motive, to keep pushing for the why even when the who, what and how had been answered. The mystery of that why could be what spared KID from being arrested, to keep prolonging the chase while seeing its end as inevitable.
"Hakuba-kun is an actual officer of the law." Was what Shinichi said instead. "I'm just a consultant that has never been engaged for a KID heist in an official capacity." No thanks to their near identical faces and KID's liberal use of Shinichi's name to slip in and out of police lines.
"I see you're still well versed in grade school technicalities."
"They're perfectly valid when grade schoolers have come the closest to capturing you."
"And now I've been captured." Kuroba wrapped his arms around Shinichi's shoulders. "…as a consolation prize of course."
Though Kuroba's voice remained light and playful, there was no hiding that sad skip in his heart.
A consolation indeed…but now a question who for.
With KID infamously being known as a master of disguise, it was expected that he would have the associated props, costumes and equipment to construct said disguises. It was, however, another matter seeing just how extensive that collection was. Closets filled with clothing of every style, gender and size; wigs so detailed that they could have been shaved directly off the targets head; and the unidentifiable vials of goo, powders and other dubious materials that tied together KID's ability to take any known shape and form.
Shinichi was almost grateful that their faces were so similar—it saved him from having to stumbled across his own face among KID's rubber masks of heist regulars, hanging on the wall as if they were hunting trophies. Wait—no, there was a mask of his face, or rather Kuroba's. Of course, KID would have a mask of his own face for misdirection and other shenanigans.
As mystified as Shinichi was by this backstage privilege, there was still a part of him that remained perplexed. Without the action of a heist to distract his mind, it continued to grasp and claw at the mystery behind KID's actions.
To welcome a detective not only to his house but to his base of operations was akin to a fox letting a bloodhound into its den — completely self-sabotaging and utterly inconceivable. It should have been absolutely improbable but Shinichi's very presence in this larcenous sanctum already brought it out of the realm of impossibility.
His home and his name. KID was all but belly up with Shinichi's jaws poised over his exposed underside—gambling that he wouldn't be torn open with the full force of the law.
(Even with all this served on a silver platter, Shinichi wouldn't, couldn't dare—but how would KID know that?)
"So how many are in the know with this little switcheroo plot?" Kuroba asked with a lazy yet paradoxically probing disinterest as he flitted between shelves and open closets—but Shinichi could see the tension coiled beneath his seemingly lax shoulders.
"It's on a need to know basis." Shinichi replied casually.
"And the amount of guests aware this celebration of civil matrimony is being co-opted to…dispose of the most virtuous and nosy members of the police force?"
"…that's also on a need to know basis." Kuroba may not realise it, but KID was the only person Shinichi trusted with the full nature and detail of the plot he had uncovered. The roots of the Black Organisation ran deep and not every stump of the hydra's necks had been burned.
Then surprisingly, Kuroba's face twisting into an annoyed scowl—open genuine irritation. It was still carefully controlled but KID never tipped his hand like that unless caught off-guard.
"What are the chances of surprise bombs at the altar? I may be a magician, Meitantei, but there are only so many emergency tools that can be stashed in a crowded chapel filled with detectives and lawmen."
"…we'll have Hattori and Aoko-san as back-up in the wedding entourage if anything happens during the ceremony. Additionally, several guests are already on high alert considering the conspirators' latest movements." Though Shinichi would never admit it out loud, he had full faith that they could actually pull this off with KID onboard—even with all the uncertainty the reveal of Kuroba threw into the mix.
"Ah the wonders of paranoia."
Shinichi huffed. "It's not paranoia if there's actual danger."
"We in the industry call that a curse," Kuroba said with a hand flourish, scattering glitter from seemingly nowhere (actually from his other hand that had subtly reached into his make-up equipment). "The amount of danger you attract extremely concerning, even without counting the corpses."
"That's rich coming from a thief purposely trying to get shot." Shinichi swallowed his guilt and covered it with snark.
KID had helped take down the branch of the Black Organisation that had targeted him, was the sole reason he was Shinichi now instead of Conan, yet KID's hunters were still on the prowl— undoubtedly dripping their poison bit by bit into Kuroba's life, miring every relationship with the secrets he was forced to keep and the burden he couldn't share.
"Ah, but those are calculated risks," Kuroba said, so full of KID's carefree cockiness yet so odd to see on his bare face. "I know exactly what sort of danger I'm throwing myself in to."
Shinichi opened his mouth to throw back another retort but he made the foolish mistake of blinking. The words died in his throat before they could form.
Ran.
Logically, Shinichi knew it was KID, that this was the intended outcome and KID was an absolute perfectionist with his every disguise—but no amount of logic could stop his heart lurching in his chest at the sight of Ran in a wedding dress before him, the exact same dress from the subtle shift from white to pink in the layers upon layers that made up the skirt to the clever cuts hidden in the sleeves that still allowed her a full range of movement.
Shinichi had long made peace with how their relationship had changed—in part from Conan, it part from who they simply were. While they would forever be treasured to each other, they barely lasted a month after graduation. He was too distant, she was too overbearing—their lives had spun out into different trajectories that the other could not follow.
But he had spent his formative years with only Ran in his heart, had taken for granted that they would one day be husband and wife. He might have even been willing to tolerate growing up again as Conan if not for knowing Ran loved him, that every day stuck as a child was one where he kept her waiting. The child and teen he once was didn't have the wisdom that letting her go would not mean the same as losing her.
It was that same boy-and-teen, the part of him scarred by Conan, that now threatened to claw its way out of his heart like a vengeful spirit.
KID was a perfectionist from his clothing to his masks to the emotions he bared—so what was Shinichi supposed to do when he used Ran's face to look so completely besotted yet lovelorn?
Like this wasn't Ran's desired lovematch. Like Shinichi hadn't been her advisor, confidant and supporter in her quest to seduce a fellow detective and Holmes otaku.
This Ran was a princess trapped by expectations and circumstance, begging Shinichi to be the knight to whisk her away. Desire, salvation, a desperate silent plea begging him to look beyond her societal-bound words and actions.
KID had crafted Shinichi's personal hell with just a single look.
Shinichi tore his eyes away with the same pain of ripping off a limb. "You can't be Ran."
Ran's face split into KID's signature grin. "Have my humble talents finally bested the Heisei Holmes?" Yet even KID breaking character didn't ease the ache.
"You can't be Ran." Shinichi repeated, his voice weak and strangled.
He marched over to that perfect illusion of his childhood dreams and yanked at the wig. KID jerked back as if his actual hair had been pulled, yet the wig stayed perfectly in place.
"Oi! Wigs aren't cheap, Meitantei." KID said while pulling the wig off.
It was still Ran's face but KID's wild locks should have been enough to break the illusion. Instead it sent another pulse of pain through Shinichi's chest, almost as bad as the poison. It would have been less painful for another spontaneous shrinking opposed to pull on his emotional chords.
"You can't be Ran."
Shinichi staggered towards the closest solid object, which just happened to be into KID—no, Kuroba's arms. Warm, solid and oh so easy to bury himself in as his mind waded through a flood of emotions.
Shinichi was genuinely happy for Ran and Hakuba's union, he wanted their relationship to prosper. He wouldn't have come up with this whole decoy bride and groom plot if he didn't think he could handle standing at the altar with an illusion of his former love. Ran had even practised her wedding vows on him and it was nothing compared to a single moment of seeing KID in her wedding dress.
"You've made that abundantly clear now, Meitantei." Kuroba had thankfully quick changed out of Ran's face and clothing, standing in a tacky "I love KID" shirt that he hadn't been wearing when he led Shinichi into his thief's den. No surprises that he owned one, it was the exact sort of thing that fed the pompous thief's vanity and ego.
(Shinichi missed Kuroba's bare chest, the backstage access to his impeccable poker face.)
"Are you still in love with her?"
Shinichi wasn't surprised by the question. An extremely logical one considering the times KID had used his teenage affections for Ran to taunt him. How even after Shinichi and Ran had broken up, there were still mutterings of how they acted too close even for childhood friends. What wasn't logical at all was his overly dramatic distress at seeing KID as Ran in a wedding dress.
(With a slightly clearer head, part of him was slightly disappointed at losing a bit of KID's mystique with the reveal of Kuroba. Only Shinichi, Aoko and Sonoko had seen Ran's wedding dress, custom made as a gift from Queen Mira to her doppelganger, and all three were sworn to secrecy. Sneaking a peak at his childhood friend's phone gallery was much easier than breaking into the phone of an heiress or detective.)
Answering Kuroba's question should have been a simple 'Yes but not romantically anymore' or 'No, not in the way you're thinking' but what came out instead was, "What is love to the great phantom thief?"
It was a half-mused thought, not even a question Shinichi intended to ask nor expect an answer to. But he felt Kuroba exhale against him, a single controlled breath that would be a full body flinch on anyone else.
Then Kuroba—no, KID hummed. Like a flip of a coin, from a civilian to a thief. "What proportion of those absolutely lovely murders you attract are crimes of passion? Particularly scorned lovers?"
Tch, Shinichi knew better than to expect a straight answer out of him. "More than enough to hammer in the importance of leaving a relationship on good terms. Wouldn't think you were one to first think of murder when it comes to love."
"Ah, but every good magician caters to their audience. Why not entice a homicide detective with a bit of his home field?"
Then suddenly KID dipped Shinichi as if he was a maiden in a ballroom dance. He yelped, wildly grabbing at KID's forearm as it precariously held him near horizontally. KID really had well muscled arms.
"Oi! What was that for?!"
KID unapologetically grinned down at him, face fully bare yet his smile more of a mask than his monocle and the moonlight ever was. "For a little demonstration of course! In lieu of an actual cadaver, I'm sure you'd be happy to volunteer." Then KID gently pressed his hand against Shinichi's chest. Shinichi could feel his heart forcefully beating, as if it wished to burst out of his ribcage to meet KID's touch. "With both the fortune and misfortune of witnessing your deduction shows, our deceased of the day is more often than not rendered so my someone known to them."
Shinichi nodded. "If it wasn't crime related, it's almost definitely is. Friends and family, subordinates and superiors —anyone known to the deceased becomes a suspect."
"Then when you've gathered your potential murderers, what qualities rank them in your suspect list?"
"Motive and opportunity."
"So what is the greatest motivator? The driver to take the opportunity when it presents itself?"
Shinichi scoffed. "There are other emotions that are just as motivating. Greed, envy, hatred, jealousy—just to name a few." Though his mind churned through the familiar ground of KID's veiled riddles. Yes, he was going to eventually answer his question but there was definitely something else he was trying to tell him.
"But can't those all be traced back to love?"
KID pulled Shinichi back upright but still kept an arm around Shinichi's waist—an additional silent question. His mother had forced him into dance lessons as a child so Shinichi knew to respond by placing his arm on KID's shoulder. He was willing to follow where KID wanted to lead in this verbal dance. It was also said dance lessons saved Shinichi from stumbling or crushing KID's toes when he started moving in a song-less rhythm.
It was a directionless mix of waltz and tango, KID's steps constantly rotating between beats of twos, threes and fours and filled with twists and flourishes more fitting for a follow than a lead. Shinichi in kept to a steady pace, mirroring KID's movements with simple basic steps as he was lead around the room. It comparable to the more spacious dressing rooms he'd seen, there was no doubt a larger room in thief's den with all his plans and other tricks of the trade KID had the sense not to reveal to him.
"Greed is a love for more, envy is a love for what isn't yours," KID voice became melodic with the spoken song, his steps twisting to lead Shinichi in the new beat. "Hatred comes from love twisted and scorned, jealousy comes when what you love cannot be yours."
"Corruptions of love doesn't actually make something love." Shinichi lost count of the amount of times culprits had broken down after being exposed, blaming love for why they took another person's life when it was actually their own selfish desires.
KID lifted their joint hands up and Shinichi allowed himself to be spun. "But you won't know unless you check. Drag those emotions out from the depths of the human heart and hold them up to the moonlight to expose their true colours." KID dipped him again, this time more shallowly—but perfectly positioning himself against the room lights to give himself an artificial halo from Shinichi's perspective. Dramatic showboat.
But that was another spoiler, another tip of his hand. KID was never careless with his words. If Shinichi hadn't already deduced what the thief was searching for, it would have been another ire-garnering reveal.
"Opening Pandora's Box is for another day." Shinichi actually felt KID slightly flinch—something that would have been a full body double take from a lesser man. "So love motivates you in your crimes—"
"I'm still a criminal in your eyes, dear Meitantei?" KID's voice was light and playful, while his heartbeat was fast but steady—the dance wasn't just KID's normal teasing but Kuroba hiding his tells as the divide between detective and thief widened.
"Let's not delude ourselves. You trounce all over establish laws, by definition that's a crime—but the written law isn't the sole moral authority." Justice could be twisted just as much as love. Shinichi had to admit that he had done many less than legal things for the goal of solving a crime. "Love of the performance clearly motivates you to hold your heists—and love for your predecessor drives you to continue to chase after the myth that killed him."
KID—no, Kuroba gave a flat wry smile. He brought their dance to a gentle stop. "And now your love for Ran-san motivates you to play bait."
Shinichi scowled. His mind felt clearer now as the annoyance rose. "By that same logic, your predecessor must be some unrequited love your still holding a torch for."
Kuroba choked and spluttered, so baffled by incredulousness that the ever coordinated performer slipped backwards on his own stray cape. Shinichi caught Kuroba by the waist before he boned his head on the ground. Unfortunately, Kuroba was also heavier than he looked so Shinichi quickly righted him.
"Meitantei, I hundred percent absolutely assure you the first KID and I were not—"
"Then don't assume all love is romantic."
But that assumption was the final piece. The reason KID had agreed to this utterly insane plot, the reason why he had finally revealed Kuroba was because—
Impossible.
No. Not impossible, just extremely improbable. Even less so considering all the other pieces of evidence finally clicking into place.
And that made it the truth.
Shinichi really shouldn't have expected anything less—a thief who turned heists into magic shows would absolutely disguise romantic intentions in a mystery reveal.
(Was his dramatic reaction earlier because it was Ran or because it was KID? Would a criminal willingly revealing their identity filled him with the same frustration if it was anyone other than KID?)
(A game coming to an end but an offer to build a new bridge.)
Shinichi pulled away from Kuroba, walking straight pass him for the overstuffed wardrobes. "You can't be Ran."
"Meitantei—"
"I'll be the bride and you'll be the groom." Shinichi continued. His hand caught the feeling of silk and lace and easily pulled out the replica of Ran's wedding dress, the hanger easily pulling away and snapping back into place without any sound or resistance. So that was how Kuroba made clothes vanish and reappear. "We're close enough in size so you shouldn't have to make too many alterations. You've impersonated Hakuba-kun more than Ran, and clearly you're good friends."
"Me as Hakubastard?" Kuroba's voice was incredulous but his eyes were glued on Shinichi's form.
Shinichi smirked. "You think you can't pull off being a man so utterly and desperately in love?"
Kuroba's annoying poker face was back up but he didn't retreat behind KID again. He sauntered over until they were chest to chest and said, "For you, Meitantei, I can be anything."
"Good." Shinichi said instead of 'Would you marry me?'
Proposals could come later, after feelings were properly unpacked and maybe a date or two. Right now, there was a wedding to prepare for.