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It wasn't fair, really.
But then, when had life ever been fair to Kaito Kuroba?
He was only a child when his father had died in an accident— no, when his father was murdered. After that, his mother seemed to spend most of her time abroad.
Ah, yes. He often felt abandoned, growing up without his parents. Every time he saw children being dropped off at school, going shopping with their parents, even something as mundane as sharing an ice cream... A sharp pang of pain shot through his chest.
Those were all things he would never again experience. Most of his contact with his mother was limited to Skype calls and the occasional visit. She spoke of seeing people there, sometimes. Whilst he brushed it off, forever holding his poker face, each word stung as a grim reminder that he would never have a happy family.
He knew he should be happy that his mother was trying to move on, but all he wanted to do was snap at her, to tell her what she was doing was wrong, that she should remain loyal to her husband. He had loved his father, idolised him. He didn't want to forget.
He spent most of his time at the Nakamori's. It was somehow comforting; Aoko didn't have a mother. He could relate to her, their losses bringing them closer. Like him, she often felt alone. She loved her father, though, even for all the time he spent away from home.
Guilt ebbed at him for that, however. It was, after all, his fault that the inspector spent so much time away.
And then he himself had left Aoko alone multiple times for a Kaitou Kid heist. But he had no choice, even if it tore her away from him slowly. Even if it hurt every time he upset her.
He loved her, and he told himself that he was doing what he had to. To keep her safe. He wanted to tell her he was Kaitou Kid. Keeping secrets from her was painfully hard, but every time he recalled her deep hatred for the thief, he found himself unable to stand the idea of her ever knowing.
Was he cruel to keep a secret from the woman he loved? Perhaps.
But Kaito doubted he could stand losing her. It was better to lie and still have his best friend than to tell her and lose her.
… Until, of course, his lies backfired.
Aoko was by no stretch of the imagination an average teenage girl. She was intelligent, perhaps as much so as he was. Although magic was not her forte, she was quickly developing a knack for detective work.
It was ironic, really, that a thief would fall in love with a detective. Bitterly so.
Of course she had joined the police force. Of course she had been assigned to catching Kaitou Kid.
Of fucking course she was there the day he finally found Pandora. The day Snake had taken her hostage and threatened to kill her, holding a gun to her head, if he did not hand the gem over.
He had complied, of course. Aoko's life was far more precious to him than anything else in this godforsaken world. He would steal the jewel back before the comet came, anyway. He had tossed the gem at them, demanding they let Aoko go.
And yet, the bastard had one of his lackeys pick up Pandora before swiftly putting a bullet through the innocent woman's head.
His whole world had come crashing down upon him. He had lost everything, everything that ever mattered to him— all in one short moment, one second was all it took to snuff out her life, and with it, the last of Kaito's hope. His poker face shattered and he fell to his best friend's side, her face quickly becoming soaked with blood and her eyes wide in horror.
Kaito screamed his pain to the world. The organization fled, but he didn't give a shit at that moment. Aoko was dead. He never— he never got to tell her. He never could, now. She would never know how much he loved her, how such a simple thing as her smile brightened up his broken world.
How she saved him from the darkness every single day. He didn't get to tell her that he was Kaitou Kid. She died suspecting he was lying to her. She died terrified. Because of him. Everything was his fault.
He gently closed her eyes and kissed her forehead as tears spilled down his cheeks, dripping onto the lifeless girl's body.
"I'm so sorry, Aoko."
He would never forgive himself.
After that, Kaito changed. He stopped joking around, he quit college. His past, his present, his future... It had all been ripped away from him. What was the point of studying? He wasn't like his mother. He couldn't move on. He wouldn't.
He attended her funeral, but he didn't cry. His tears had long since dried up— he felt numb. The tears refused to come, and he doubted they ever would again. Her father, however, was screaming his pain out as tears streamed down his face, regretting all the chances he had given up to spend time with his only daughter. Chances he would never have again.
As he stepped to the casket, he performed her favourite magic trick for the last time. A red rose appeared into his hand from what seemed to be nowhere and he lay it gently down beside her head, which had been tactfully cleaned from blood and covered. Her face looked so peaceful, so unlike it had when her life had been so cruelly ripped away.
He gently stroked her cheek. His heart felt as though it were tearing into two at the cold sensation, and he forced back the pained shudder that threatened to rack his body.
"I promise you, Aoko. I'll be with you soon."
Frequently, he slipped back into the mask of Kaitou Kid. Spending time as Kaito Kuroba was painful. The once cheerful boy no longer had a place in the world. His eyes were forever dull and lifeless, and his tricks lacked their usual flare. His fans dissipated, nervous as to the new, cold attitude of the infamous Kaitou Kid.
He was forever haunted by her horrified expression. Every night, the image of her face filled his mind, and he was forced to watch over and over as the bullet pierced her head. A blunder that he could never forget, never forgive.
He even swapped the card gun for a real gun. He wasn't going to screw around anymore.
Those bastards deserved to die for ripping away every single shred of happiness he had ever so desperately clung to.
On one heist, Saguru had even dared to question his new persona.
"What happened to the gentleman thief who valued life?"
"He died along with her." Kaito spat out bitterly.
He knew Saguru knew his true identity. Long ago, he had given up denying it. He was certain that inspector Nakamori himself knew, from the way he would glare at him with an unhidden hatred whenever he saw him— in or out of disguise. Kaito didn't blame the older man one bit.
It was his fault. Nothing he could do would ever remedy that.
But he would send those fuckers down to rot in hell, and then he would come for Aoko. Perhaps then she would forgive him.
… Though, he supposed he was unsuitable for heaven. He was tainted. No, he knew he wouldn't be able to follow Aoko there. Murderers weren't welcomed in such a place.
But even if it meant he would spend a torturous eternity in hell, he cared not. He could not rest in damnation until every single person in that fucking organization was dead.
It was a month later when a massive explosion occurred at an old warehouse. Saguru had rushed to the scene, having long expected something to happen but unable to stop the rash young man who had once been so bright.
A lethally wounded, messy haired man limped from the front of the building, his arm hanging limply at his side and body stained red with blood— whether his own or someone else's, Saguru was not entirely sure. His once stark-white outfit was stained a mix of ash and crimson, cobalt eyes so dimmed they appeared a dull gray.
Before he could reach Saguru, the man collapsed to the ground. The detective rushed forwards, pulling the man up in into his arms. His face was pale and sickly, cheekbones jutting out sharply, and Saguru wondered when the last time was that the man had had a proper meal. He was hardly recognisable as the once-proud magician who wreaked havoc upon their former class.
"Hakuba?" Kaito coughed weakly, his eyes blank as they stared upward, unseeing.
"Yes." Saguru's voice held no hint of emotion; it was something he had long before learned to keep hidden, and Kaito let out a feeble laugh.
"Figures you'd come to watch me die," a small, pitiful smile crossed the man's face. "I did it, Hakuba. They're dead."
"Do you really think Aoko-kun would have wanted this?"
"No." Kaito replied immediately, sighing. "She was too innocent, angelic. But... I'm impure." He gestured to his bloody body with his uninjured arm, grimacing in pain. "I cannot go where she is. But I couldn't let them live."
"You're a fool." Saguru stated simply.
Kaito smirked. "Indeed."
He took a few more shuddering, heavy breaths before Saguru felt Kaito's body go limp within his arms, the young man's mouth still forming a smirk— albeit nothing akin to the childish grins he had once adorned.
Long ago, when she had given his life meaning. A time when he laughed, and a time when he loved.
Before he was corrupted.