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Once, over a decade ago now, the sight of a white cape and clover monocle was something people celebrated. Some people, anyways. Authorities were still on edge, and the proud owners of ancient jewels raged, but the public masses celebrated the sight of the thief and his gentleman charm.
But that was a long time passed. Coinciding with the death of an equally beloved Japanese magician and his wife, the Kaitou Kid who dazzled the crowds with roses and returned stolen jewels to their rightful owners disappeared into the night sky of which he came.
And in his place—
Kaitou Kid, second of his name, third of his lineage, landed silently on the balcony of a fancy hotel. The rendezvous spots were never anything less than high class, be it three-star restaurants or hotels like this, or even popular vacation spots. This one, however, was different in that it was directly in the line of the target, rather than in a district or two over.
See, usually it was better to be subtle with the fact that he was, you know, an internationally wanted criminal. And yet, was it not more suspicious to never be near such a public heist? Vermouth thought so, and considering she was the one who trained Kid, who has been in this line of work for longer than he's been alive, he wasn't going to question her.
Point being, Kaitou Kid landed on the balcony, swirled his cape around himself with a click of his heels, and allowed Kuroba Kaito to step through the glass doors and into the luxurious room where his aunt waited.
He found her right where he expected her to be: at the island in the kitchen, a wine glass in one hand, while her other hand supported her chin. Icy eyes were locked on the screen in front of her, which bore the police statements of the heist, but Kaito was acknowledged with a light, "Have fun, did we?"
Chris, then. Not Vermouth, but also not Aunt Sharon.
Kaito smirked as he stepped forward to stand beside her. He flicked his wrist, and in his palm appeared tonight's target. He set the gem -a large emerald of which legends of granting the heart's greatest desires floated around- on the table and slid onto the opposing bar stool.
"Of course I did!" Kaito answered. A peel of laughter left him, then, as he added, "You should've seen Nakamori-keibu's face! Pleading that this isn't me, that the police could help if I've gotten into some trouble~ I wonder… Can we tell him the man he thinks I am is dead? His reaction would be priceless!"
Chris's eyes finally flickered away from her tablet. They landed on him as she clicked her tongue in reprimand, "If he knows the previous Kid is dead, he can connect it with your father, which can connect it to you, which connects it to me." Her hand pulled away from her chin. A finger with nails more akin to claws than anything else poked at Kaito's nose. "But there are other ways for you to tease our dear inspector."
Kaito cooed an intrigued noise, more akin to his doves than a person. And wasn't that just the most obvious tell? The biggest sign that he and the woman before him were more beast than man? Look like an animal, act like an animal.
Hunt like an animal.
"Other ways?" He asked.
Chris picked up the emerald. She titled it this way and that, letting it catch on the moonlight streaming in though the windows. Another dud in regards to Pandora, but a priceless jewel nonetheless. Great for funding. Her grin said something similar.
"How do you feel," she drawled, "about going to highschool?"
It was a warm June day, the one of that fateful magic show. The event was meant to be a Father's Day celebration and birthday party for Kaito all wrapped into one. A joyous day for neighborhood kids and family friends and anyone who wanted to see the famous Kuroba Toichi in action.
The equipment had been double, triple, quadruple checked.
Kaito and Aoko and Aoko's father had front row seats.
Chikage was with Toichi as they greeted the audience.
And then, before anyone could truly comprehend what was happening-
The stage was in flame. Explosions shook the earth. Screams erupted from every direction. Nakamori's arms were full with a panicked Aoko, with a Kaito that tried desperately to run to his parents. Someone was calling for emergency responders. The smell of burnt flesh melted in with hot metal.
And then, as the dust settled several hours later, it was declared that Kuroba Toichi and Kuroba Chikage were dead, leaving their son an orphan. An accident, the reports said. Tragic, but unavoidable.
A murder, Nakamori hissed. There was no way that was an accident. And yet, there was no proof to support his claim, just as he had no jurisdiction to investigate.
Kaito slept in a blanket fort in Aoko's room that night, like he had the week prior, when they stayed awake and giggling into the wee hours of the morning, planning their own magic show. There was no giggling this time.
Sharon Vineyard arrived at the Nakamori's door the next morning. She claimed to have hopped on the first plane to Japan as soon as she heard the news. She said she was here to take Kaito back to America with her, where the memories would not be so painful.
No one stopped her.
"Hello," Kaito chirped at the head of the classroom. "I am Kuroba Kaito; I'm looking forward to learning alongside you!"
A few of the students murmured. The teacher gestured to an empty seat. Kaito cared for neither of them. Instead, his eyes stayed locked on sapphires framed by a bird's nest. Aoko stared right back, looking like she was hardly breathing.
The plan was simple: re-befriend Nakamori Aoko and wiggle his way into the Nakamori household, where Kaito could then gush about his parents and Kaitou Kid. The desired effect would be distress upon the inspector, who constantly meddled in the Organization's schemes. Then, after a year of toying with his food, Kaito could kill Aoko, maybe even fake his own death, and dance right back into the shadows.
Simple, in theory.
Except…
"Bakaito," Aoko hissed, as if no time had passed at all. Her eyes danced with fiery life. Her cheeks were puffed in a pout. Her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. "You didn't tell Aoko you were coming back!"
Kaito slid into the conveniently empty seat beside her and dropped his bag to the floor at his feet. Whispering cheekily, he shot back, "Idiot. How was I supposed to let you know? It's not like I know your phone number. Or remember your father's, for that matter."
"Well-" Her cheeks, somehow, puffed up further. It looked like she was having an allergic reaction… Or was a particular greedy squirrel preparing for winter. "Well, where do you live? It must be close by if you're coming to this school! So why didn't you knock on our door?"
"And risk you having moved out, leaving me to intrude on some poor stranger's dinner?" Kaito placed a hand on his chest and shook his head. "I could never be so rude! It's like you expect me to have no shame."
"You don't!"
The teacher cleared her throat. Aoko and Kaito both snapped to attention, waiting as the teacher went back to her lesson, some kind of graphing nonsense. The faked attention, obviously, lasted all of ten seconds.
Kaito bent back down to the space between their desks and raised an eyebrow. He said, "I didn't when I was six. I'll have you know that I'm seventeen now!"
"And yet you're still here, arguing with me about stupid shit!"
"Aoko! What would your father say, to hear you swear like that!"
"Oh please. He says worse. You should seem him after a Kid heist- he gives sailors a run for their money."
And that was precisely why he was here. Still, a magician never reveals his secrets, and an operative never spills the beans. Kaito frowned as he asked, "Your dad is still going after Kid? Why didn't he get reassigned during the hiatus."
Aoko frowned, too. A finger rose to curl around a strand of hair, an idle motion as she answered, "That's that thing: he did get reassigned. But he's been… I don't know. Depressed? He lost the spirit, after. You know. And then Kid came back and he immediately brought back the Task Force! And he was happy! Until recently, anyway."
"When it became apparent Kid isn't operating on the same rules he used to."
"Right." Aoko bobbed her head, twice, like a disturbed bobble head. Kaito ignored how his heart ached at the familiar action. "So now he's upset all the time." She brightened, suddenly, and Kaito was forced to lean back as she darted into his space. "But now Kaito is here, and he can come home with Aoko! I'm sure Dad will be relieved to see you're doing okay!"
Once again, the teacher called a scolding noise. Everyone shot upright, including Kaito and Aoko, though Kaito was holding in laughter. When again the teacher turned away, Kaito quickly scrawled a note and passed it over.
I'll be there~
"Aunt Sharon? Where are we going?" A six-year-old Kuroba Kaito asked, hand tightly clasped in Sharon's and indigo eyes wide as he took in his gloomy surroundings. He didn't know it yet -wouldn't come to know it for several years yet- but he was in one of the many "safe houses" the Black Organization owned. They were primed for meetings between codenamed individuals, and perfect for hiding bodies.
"To see a friend of mine," Sharon answered after a long stretch of silence, save for the click of their heels. "And remember, while we're here, you should call me Vermouth."
Kaito's lips moved as he silently sounded out the foreign word. A tall man in black, silver hair cascading down his back, passed them with a heavy side eye and sneer. Kaito barely blinked. "Miss Vermouth, why does your friend live in a such a creepy building?"
That, at least, rewarded him with a chuckle. With her free hand, Sharon -because she could say she was Vermouth all she liked, but the woman now was still his Aunt Sharon- reached over and tousled his already messy hair further. "He just likes it in the dark," Sharon answered. "Says it's better for his complexion, and fits his… theme."
"…Miss Vermouth? Is your friend a vampire?"
Sharon blinked in momentary surprise. Kaito watched and waited. It made sense to him, after all. Who said the dark 'fit their theme'? Who said it was better for their complexion? Who has other people in all black -the silver haired man- stalking around his home?
Answer one: someone who just really likes the color black, who burnt easily, and had a weird friend group.
Answer two, the obviously correct answer: a vampire.
Of course, that meant that this friend was probably immortal and ate people too. But if he was friends with Aunt Sharon, or whoever this Vermouth character of hers was, then surely that meant Kaito was safe.
…Right?
"No," Sharon ended up saying. She had clearly been debating if that was the right answer to give, judging by her slow speech and low tone. And then she seemed to shift. Her posture changed, just a tad, and her eyes got sharper, like mom's did when she was talking about her past. This, then, was Vermouth. "Not quite yet. He wants to be. But for now, he's just a big fan."
Somehow, that made Kaito feel worse.
Aoko had met him at the gates of the school, bag swinging impatiently and glare aimed at the sky. Her attitude changed quickly, however, when one of Kaito's dove landed on her shoulders.
"Lucky!" She gasped, ramrod still save for the hand that rose to gingerly pet the dove. Kaito stepped forward, and Aoko's greeting turned to him. "Kaito, you kept your father's doves!"
"Of course I did!" Kaito snapped back, feeling more than a little defensive over the thought that he wouldn't. "They're like siblings to me! And anyway, it's easier to train new doves when the older ones can peck some common sense into them."
Aoko giggled. Lucky attempted to pat -well, as close as something with a beak and no hands could get to patting- Aoko's shorter hair strands back into something coherent. It did not go well. Aoko said, "I do remember Lucky and… it was Irene, right? They would always try to pull on our clothes when we tried to grab Oba-san's cooking before she finished. I bet they're the two biggest scolders for the new generation, huh?"
Kaito snorted. "You have no idea." Lucky was usually a bit more patient with the general silliness, but she was definitely a menace when one of the others simply did not understand the concept of a hat trick. Irene, however, had zero patience. If you did not get your shit together right then and there, she's stealing the treats and the show. This is her house; back up. They were like two over-critical parents. He could make a soap opera out of it. Anyway— "Is your dad home or are we waiting for his shift to end?"
"He better be home," Aoko muttered, almost hissing under her breath. "There hasn't been a new heist announcement from what I've seen, anyway. And if he's not, we'll just get takeout for dinner! I'm not waiting until two in the morning to eat ever again."
"Which heists was that one?"
"Not a heist. A theft-turned-murder that division one needed help with. It was over in Beika, and between solving the case, filling out a report, and the ride home, it was late-late by the time he got back."
"Yikes. Beika is coming for the rest of Tokyo these days, huh?"
"I guess!"
The two of them dissolved into snickers. Most of the school's courtyard had emptied by then, and they finally decided to follow suit. Lucky hopped back onto Kaito's shoulder. Aoko bounded forward with a pep in her step.
And Kaito, with an ease he hadn't felt in a long time, wondered…
At year 8 of Kaitou Kid's mysterious and sudden disappearance, he returned. Still dressed in a white that had many conflicting him for an angel of justice, he sent a letter to the public, addressed to one and all:
Thought you'd seen the last of me?
A phantom is like time: never ceasing
Always chiming for all to hear
In three days, I shall rise once more to dazzle you!
Somehow, from his cryptic message, the police managed to figure out he was after the jewels on the clock tower, and would strike on Easter day. They were right, of course, but he had sent the notice a week before the heist. What should've happened was they assumed the heist would be three days from the notice, show up, find no theft, depart, and leave Kid and the Organization free to steal the gems for themselves upon the dark of night.
Evidently, that was not what happened.
Still, it wasn't like Kaito -no, Kaitou Kid- had anything to fear. His entire life was surrounded by thieves and murderers, honey trappers and hackers, spies and corrupt government officials. Was it ethical to teach a ten year old how to both wield and dodge a sniper rifle? Perhaps not. But was it useful?
Definitely.
So, as Kid descended with angelic grace, he did not worry about the troop of officers waiting for him. He just grinned that feral smile Vermouth had taught him, popped a smoke bomb, and ducked. Just in time, too- whoever was on Kid-sitting duty let loose a volley of bullet. It was probably Chianti, based on that, but it just as easily could've been Rose.
The crowds and newscasters scattered. Nakamori-keibu began barking orders. The metallic scent of blood filled the air. Kid swept away the jewels of the clock hands. The crows in the skies cackled with laughter.
The next day, Nakamori-keibu released a statement saying that, based on Kaitou Kid's past M.O., the gunshots were almost definitely not from his side, but neither were they from the police force. Thus, the Task Force would be operating under the assumption that Kid's revival brought in the attention of crazy fans or hired assassins from the jewel owner's side, though the second guess was left on the down-low.
Except, it happened at the next heist.
And the next.
Was it really the work of eccentric fans? The people asked. Were the police hiding the fact they were trying to assassinate Kaitou Kid?
Was Kid really the angel of justice citizens thought he was?
All became clear the night Suzuki Jirokichi challenged the phantom thief to a heist. It resulted in a elementary-aged detective being dropped from the roof of a building and his chaperone being shot in the shoulder. Though by some miracle, mostly on the child's part, they did both survive, it made it all too clear that Kid was calling the shots on these newfound killers.
He went from an angel of justice to a devil in disguise.
Nakamori-keibu went from shouting at the Kid for being stupid about antagonizing snipers to pleading with Kid to let him help if he was in some kind of debt with a mob.
And Kid, with Vermouth's help, continued to hold public heists, to challenge public figures. They would take down as many enemies as stood in their way, to cull the stupidity of Tokyo's populace, to spread terror into the masses. It was against the Black Organization's typical means, but then again, Kaito, teamed up with Snake's crew now, wasn't exactly keen to not have the attention on him constantly. Perhaps that was simply what happened when one was raised by a world famous actress.
Thus, the legacy of a gentleman thief came to an end, and a new reign of shadows emerged, leaving those in the know of who this new Kaitou Kid was (Vermouth-Sharon-Chris; the Kudos, for all they wanted to deny it; Konosuke Jii, barely daring to believe it) with a tragically ironic thought: that for all Kaito mirrored his father, he was most definitely the Phantom Lady's son.
Nakamori-keibu was, in fact, home when Aoko and Kaito burst through the door, both shouting and running with wide smiles on their faces. The house smelled of cigarettes, and Kaito caught a glance of Nakamori fumbling with his smoke for the one, two, three seconds it took for him to realize just who exactly was being chased by his daughter.
"Kaito," Nakamori breathed out. What quick reaction time! Being in the Task Force was clearly doing him some good, even in his old age. "Kaito-kun, you're—"
"Heya, Oji-san!" Kaito chirped back. And then ducked under a mop. Who knew a debate over if the pokemon Pidove was a pigeon or a dove could become so heated? "Didya hear, didya hear? Aoko called me a—"
"Would you stop talking already! All day it's been 'Aoko, did you know Beika has a shinigami that's two apples tall?' and 'Aoko, doves are in the same family as pigeon, obviously, therefore, Pidove is just a regional form of Pidgey.' and 'Aoko, you're still so short—'"
Nakamori shot upright from the couch, repeating, "Kaito-kun!" And then, with surprising speed, he stalked right over to Kaito and brought him into his arms. A hug. A very tight one, actually, that was so warm and comforting in a way Aunt Sharon's never were. "You're real!"
"…Yes?" Kaito agreed, slowly raising his arms to hug back. One of Nakamori's hands cradled the back of Kaito's head, pushing his face into the older man's shoulder. "Last time I checked anyway. But it has been awhile. And, you know, highschool really sucks the life out of you."
Nakamori was pulling back just as quickly as he started. But then his hands cupped Kaito's cheeks and tilted his face this way and that. "Has Vineyard been feeding you enough? You've got your father's height but you're still so skinny. And how are you doing? Have you gone to therapy? Do you have any friends? How long are you in Japan?"
"Uh." Kaito answered, intelligently.
"He's going to school, dad!" Aoko gleefully replied. "Same class as me! Apparently Ms. Vineyard wanted Kaito to -what was it?- reconnect with his Japanese roots." She held up one finger then, eyes wide, and added, "And! He still does magic."
"Oh thank God. To all of that." Nakamori sighed. Finally, he let Kaito go and gave him a wide smile, acting as if no time had passed rather than a decade of pain from both ends. "It's good to see you again, kid, and to see you and Aoko are hitting it off the same as ever."
For an embarrassingly long moment, Kaito's brain continued to buffer. To reinstall old software, as it were. Even so, he managed to soften both his expression and voice to say, "Yeah... It's— It's good to be home."
Aoko squeezed his arm, somewhere between concerned but reassuring and exasperated but happy. Then, eyes sparkling, she asked her father, "Can we have pizza tonight? It's been awhile since we had a family game night."
"You have school tomorrow."
"So? It's not like it will be the first times I've pulled an all-nighter."
"Fair enough, I suppose." Nakamori chuckled, pulling out his phone with little more convincing. "Any preferences, Kaito-kun?"
"No anchovies." Came the quick answer, which was immediately followed by more laughter. The room was alight with it, with the warmth of familiarity and affection. It would continue well into the night, as it would find a way to in all lifetimes.
(Later, phone hidden under the table and with quick fingers, Kaito will text his aunt, telling her that he won't be terrorizing the Nakamori's or faking his own death. There was so much more to be gained if he used them for information. That was the only reason he was content to continue this act, of course.)
((Even later, unknown to Kaito, Chris Vineyard will get the encrypted text and smile a sombre thing. She knew all too well the feeling of finding some light in the darkness. For her, her Angel and Silver Bullet. It would seem a beautiful sapphire and inspector would be Kaito's. She could hardly fault him for that, even if he was insistent on lying to her. And himself.))
(((Even wild beasts and hunters had those they cared for.)))
"Here," Chris said, kneeling down before Kaito. He knew it was Chris because of the way her makeup was done, with how she crouched down delicately rather than tower over him. Not that she really could, if Kaito would simply stand up, but it was the principle of the thing he supposed.
He glanced away from her and toward the bundle in her hands. White, predominantly, though with a bit of blue. Fine fabric. A hint of old cologne that made Kaito's head hurt and eyes sting. He… knew this suit, didn't he?
"This," Chris began to explain, "was your father's. For all that he was, in public, a gentle presence and skilled entertainer, Toichi was also something else. Something your mother also was."
Kaito frowned at that. One of his hands strayed forward nonetheless, gently tracing over the hand-me-down. His father and mother were something secret… Something clearly he was set to inherit. Something that probably had to do with all of his acrobatic and slight of hand training. The fighting practice. The acting classes and makeup lessons.
…Kaito had dug through the records the Organization had surrounding his parents. Of course he did; who wouldn't? They coincided with the Org's files regarding the phantom thief 1412 and Lady with Twenty Faces. Could it be—
Chris nodded, likely reading something in Kaito's shifting expression. "Yes," she said. "They were internationally wanted criminals, who took from the rich and powerful over fabled myths."
"And now it's my turn to continue the legacy," Kaito finished. Again, Chris nodded, and at this, Kaito accepted the gift. The heirloom. The burden.
"Your codename, from this moment on, is Kid. Congratulations, little bird," at that, there, was Vermouth. Fanged smile, cold eyes, deadly intent. Kaito allowed himself to shift as well, to fall into the training he had been allowed.
"I won't disappoint," said Kid, just as sharp, just as feral. His hands twitched with the need to tear into something. His blood pounded with the desire to run. His thoughts jumped at a thousand miles per hour.
He would make his parents proud.
He would make Vermouth proud.
He'd make the Boss proud.
Once, over a decade ago, the sight of a white cape and clover monocle was something to celebrate, a chance to show your wit, a show for the ages.
Now, the sight of a white cape and clover monocle predates the spray of blood and the sound of screams; it brings fear and a deep sense of wrongness.
But it will not be that way forever. There will again be a time when the crowds scream Kaitou Kid's name and detectives flock to his tricks. All that needs to happen is for a sapphire to shine with a different light than immortality's, the light of love cascading on a boy raised in violence. Only then will the damage begin to be undone.
And Sharon Vineyard, Vermouth, Chris will let it be so. A final act of repentance before the wolves attack.