Chapter Text
The morning had started wrong.
Not strange.
Not confusing.
Wrong.
The moment Shinichi Kudo opened his eyes, something felt off. The ceiling above him was familiar—the same apartment ceiling he saw every day—but his body felt different somehow.
Lighter.
Unfamiliar.
Dark brown bangs slipped into his vision as he sat up.
Shinichi froze.
His hand immediately flew to his forehead.
The hair was softer.
Longer.
The bangs fell differently than his own.
Not his.
For several long seconds, his brain simply refused to process what he was seeing.
Then he stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping over the blanket.
“What the hell—”
The voice that came out wasn’t his voice either.
It was Kaito’s.
A loud crash echoed from somewhere else in the apartment.
Shinichi immediately sprinted toward the sound.
At the same time, another figure rushed out from the opposite hallway.
Both of them stopped dead.
Silence.
A horrible, terrible silence.
Because standing in front of Shinichi was—
His own body.
His own face.
His own dark hair styled exactly the way he always wore it.
His own expression of complete horror.
“Kaito?”
The person wearing Shinichi’s face pointed an accusing finger.
“Don’t ‘Kaito’ me! What did you do?!”
“What I did?! You’re the magician!”
“That has absolutely nothing to do with body swapping!”
“Then explain this!”
Kaito grabbed Shinichi’s face with both hands and stretched his cheeks.
“This is your face!”
“Stop touching my face!”
“It’s my face right now!”
“That’s even worse!”
The argument exploded immediately.
Neither of them knew what had happened.
Neither of them understood why it happened.
And naturally, each blamed the other.
Shinichi accused Kaito of somehow causing this through one of his ridiculous schemes.
Kaito accused Shinichi of being cursed by his own terrible luck and dragging everyone else into it.
Neither explanation made any sense.
That didn’t stop them.
The apartment was filled with shouting for nearly twenty minutes.
Eventually they both ran out of arguments.
Then Shinichi checked the time.
His face immediately paled.
“…Class starts in forty minutes.”
The room went silent.
Kaito blinked.
“…You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“We still haven’t solved the whole body-swapping thing.”
“And we won’t solve it if we’re absent.”
A painful pause followed.
Unfortunately, Shinichi was right.
No matter how absurd the situation was, university attendance still existed.
The universe apparently had priorities.
⸻
Now they sat across from each other in the university cafeteria.
And the atmosphere was awful.
Outside, the weather reflected their mood perfectly.
Dark gray clouds stretched across the sky.
A cool autumn wind rattled the campus trees beyond the cafeteria windows, sending amber and copper leaves dancing across the pathways.
The sunlight was weak and muted, barely managing to push through the thick blanket of clouds.
Rain threatened in the distance.
The air felt heavy.
Oppressive.
Much like the conversation.
Students crowded the cafeteria around them.
Laughter echoed between tables.
Groups of friends chatted over lunch.
Some students hurried to afternoon lectures while others relaxed with coffee and snacks.
Meanwhile, Shinichi and Kaito looked like they were attending a funeral.
The situation was made even worse by the fact that they were wearing each other’s clothes.
In the panic of the morning, neither of them had thought about changing.
So Shinichi—currently trapped inside Kaito’s body—was wearing Kaito’s usual campus outfit.
A cream-colored knit sweater layered over a white button-up shirt.
Dark trousers.
A charcoal-gray coat draped over the back of his chair.
The clothes fit perfectly, of course.
They belonged to the body he currently occupied.
That fact only made him more irritated.
Across from him, Kaito occupied Shinichi’s body.
He wore Shinichi’s dark jacket over a gray turtleneck and neatly pressed black slacks.
Somehow, despite wearing Shinichi’s normally tidy clothes, Kaito still managed to look like he was planning something mischievous.
He lazily stirred a cup of tea.
Shinichi narrowed his eyes.
“You smiled at someone.”
“What?”
“You smiled at someone using my face.”
“So?”
“So don’t.”
Kaito stared.
“…You realize that’s insane, right?”
“It’s my face.”
“It’s currently my face.”
“It’s still legally my face.”
“Do you have paperwork proving that?”
Shinichi looked seconds away from committing a crime.
Kaito sighed dramatically.
“This day keeps getting worse.”
Shinichi crossed his arms.
“Tell me again why this isn’t your fault.”
“Because I woke up like this too!”
“You have suspiciously convenient experience with impossible situations.”
“I’m a magician, not a wizard.”
“That’s exactly what a wizard would say.”
Kaito dropped his forehead onto the table.
The impact made several nearby students glance over.
Neither of them cared.
Both were too exhausted.
The morning had been filled with panic.
The walk to campus had been filled with confusion.
Their classes had been filled with constant distractions.
At first glance, their hair colors weren’t even that different.
Both had naturally dark hair.
But Kaito’s was softer, slightly longer, carrying a subtle brown tint whenever light touched it. Shinichi’s hair was shorter, neater, and impossible to mistake for anyone else’s once you knew him.
The difference seemed small.
Until you were trapped in the other person’s body.
Every time Shinichi caught sight of the unfamiliar bangs falling into his vision, another headache threatened to form.
Every time Kaito accidentally passed a reflective window and saw Shinichi’s face staring back at him, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
Neither of them could focus.
Neither of them could think.
And neither had any clue how to fix this.
The cafeteria clock ticked overhead.
The sound seemed unusually loud.
Finally, Kaito sat upright.
“Fine.”
Shinichi raised an eyebrow.
“Fine what?”
“We continue arguing later.”
“We haven’t finished arguing.”
“I know.”
“You still haven’t explained anything.”
“Because I don’t know anything.”
“Suspicious.”
Kaito pointed a finger.
“See? That’s exactly why we’re postponing this.”
The detective clicked his tongue.
For a moment they simply sat there.
The crowd continued moving around them.
Outside, the first drops of rain finally began tapping softly against the cafeteria windows.
A cold wind shook the trees.
The campus grew darker beneath the approaching storm.
Neither of them noticed.
Because both Shinichi and Kaito were too busy staring at the person wearing their face.
And silently wondering how long they could survive sharing one apartment—
While trapped in the wrong bodies.
———
The rain had finally stopped by the time the last lecture ended.
The campus grounds were still damp from the afternoon shower. Water clung to the edges of leaves and gathered in shallow puddles along the walkways.
The sky had begun turning orange and violet as evening slowly approached, the setting sun peeking through gaps in the clouds.
Students streamed out of the buildings in groups.
Some headed toward the dormitories.
Others toward cafés, buses, and train stations.
Meanwhile, Kaito—currently trapped inside Shinichi’s body— stood beneath the covered entrance of the main lecture building with his hands shoved into the pockets of Shinichi’s dark jacket.
He looked thoroughly annoyed.
Not because of the body-swapping.
Not because of the headache.
But because he was waiting.
Waiting was boring.
Especially when the person he was waiting for was taking forever.
Kaito glanced at his phone.
Then at the building.
Then back at his phone.
Then back at the building.
“What’s taking him so long…”
Several students walking past waved at him.
Or rather—
They waved at Shinichi.
Kaito awkwardly waved back.
The reactions were immediate.
The students froze.
One nearly dropped her notebook.
Another looked as if he had just witnessed a supernatural event.
Kaito blinked.
“…Wow.”
Apparently Shinichi wasn’t known for casually waving at people.
Good to know.
A few minutes later, the doors finally opened.
Shinichi emerged carrying a backpack over one shoulder.
Or rather—
Kaito’s body emerged carrying a backpack.
The detective looked exhausted.
His hair was slightly disheveled from an entire day of lectures, group discussions, and trying not to accidentally respond when people called him “Kaito.”
The moment he spotted Kaito, he visibly relaxed.
For about two seconds.
Then Kaito marched straight toward him.
Without a word.
Grabbed his wrist.
And started walking.
“What are you doing?”
“Going home.”
“You’re kidnapping me.”
“We live together.”
“That’s not a legal defense.”
Kaito ignored him.
Shinichi sighed.
Then simply followed.
He was too tired to argue.
⸻
The rain had finally stopped by the time they returned home.
The city outside glittered beneath the evening lights, reflections shimmering across the wet streets below. Cars passed through puddles left by the afternoon storm, while distant neon signs painted streaks of color against the darkening sky.
The moment the apartment door closed behind them, both Shinichi and Kaito dropped their bags near the entrance.
For a brief moment, neither spoke.
The silence lasted exactly twelve seconds.
Then Kaito froze.
“…Ah.”
Shinichi immediately disliked that sound.
“What.”
Kaito slowly turned toward him.
His expression had gone completely blank.
“What?”
“I have a KID heist in three days.”
The room fell silent.
Shinichi stared.
And stared.
And stared.
Then his eyes widened.
“Oh.”
A pause.
Another pause.
Then—
“Oh no.”
Kaito pointed at him.
“Exactly.”
Shinichi immediately grabbed his head.
A sharp headache began forming behind his eyes.
How had he forgotten?
Of course there was a KID heist.
A warning notice had been sent days ago.
The police would already be preparing.
Reporters would be gathering.
Crowds would be waiting.
And in three days, Kaito KID was scheduled to appear.
“Cancel it.”
Kaito answered immediately.
“No.”
“Cancel it.”
“No.”
“Kaito.”
“No.”
The response came so quickly that Shinichi almost wanted to throw a cushion at him.
“Are you insane? We switched bodies this morning!”
“I am aware.”
“Then cancel it.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Kaito folded his arms.
Because for the first time since they’d gotten home, he wasn’t acting playful.
He wasn’t smiling.
He wasn’t joking.
Instead, he looked unusually serious.
“The notice has already been sent.”
“So?”
“The police are preparing.”
“So?”
“The audience is waiting.”
Shinichi groaned.
“The audience can survive one canceled performance.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Kaito walked toward the living room window.
Below, the city lights stretched endlessly into the distance.
“You know what Kaito KID is?”
“A thief.”
“A performer.”
Kaito corrected immediately.
His tone was calm.
Certain.
“The theft is only half of it.”
Shinichi frowned.
“The other half is trust.”
That earned a confused look.
Kaito continued.
“When Kaito KID sends a notice, he appears.”
The words were simple.
But the conviction behind them was unmistakable.
“The police know it.”
“The reporters know it.”
“The public knows it.”
He looked over his shoulder.
“And because they know it, they show up.”
Shinichi slowly realized where this was going.
“If KID suddenly disappears…”
“Then something is wrong.”
Kaito nodded.
“And people notice.”
The room fell silent.
Shinichi hated it.
Mostly because Kaito was right.
Thousands of people would be expecting Kaito KID’s appearance.
The sudden cancellation would immediately raise questions.
Questions neither of them could afford.
Especially while trapped in each other’s bodies.
Still—
“No.”
Kaito blinked.
“No?”
“I’m not doing it.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I have never stolen anything in my life.”
“You don’t actually need to steal anything.”
“That somehow doesn’t make me feel better.”
Kaito sighed.
Then disappeared into his room.
Several moments later he returned carrying multiple binders.
Shinichi immediately felt threatened.
“What are those?”
“My preparations.”
“…Plural?”
“Of course plural.”
Kaito dropped them onto the coffee table.
The impact shook the entire surface.
Shinichi stared in disbelief.
There were tabs.
Folders.
Notes.
Maps.
Photographs.
Security reports.
Escape routes.
Contingency plans.
Contingency plans for the contingency plans.
It looked less like the notebook of a magician and more like the archives of an intelligence agency.
“Kaito.”
“Yes?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“A lot of things.”
At least he was honest.
Kaito opened one of the binders.
Floor plans immediately covered the table.
Then another.
And another.
Within minutes, the entire coffee table disappeared beneath documents.
Shinichi looked increasingly horrified.
“You expect me to do this.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I literally cannot.”
“You can.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
Kaito suddenly pointed at him.
“No.”
Shinichi blinked.
“No what?”
“No ‘I can’t.’”
The seriousness in Kaito’s voice immediately caught his attention.
Gone was the playful grin.
Gone was the teasing.
Gone was the usual carefree attitude.
For the first time all day, Kaito looked exactly like the person who had managed to fool entire police forces for years.
And that person was frighteningly confident.
“We have three days.”
Shinichi frowned.
“Three days isn’t enough.”
“It has to be.”
Kaito stepped closer.
“You don’t have the option of doing this halfway.”
Shinichi narrowed his eyes.
“What does that mean?”
“It means if you’re going to be Kaito KID in three days, then you’re going to be Kaito KID perfectly.”
The words landed heavily.
Shinichi stared.
Kaito stared back.
“If you hesitate, people notice.”
“If you act differently, people notice.”
“If your posture changes, people notice.”
“If your voice changes, people notice.”
He crossed his arms.
“And unlike most people, Nakamori-keibu has spent years chasing me.”
That immediately made Shinichi wince.
Kaito continued.
“The detectives.”
“The police.”
“The reporters.”
“They all know how Kaito KID behaves.”
He pointed directly at Shinichi.
“So by the time the heist begins, nobody can realize you’re not me.”
Silence.
The apartment suddenly felt much smaller.
Much quieter.
Kaito’s gaze never wavered.
“The police can’t notice.”
“The audience can’t notice.”
“The reporters can’t notice.”
A confident smile finally appeared.
The familiar smile of the Phantom Thief.
“And especially not the detective standing on the opposite side.”
Shinichi immediately regretted making eye contact.
“You planned that line.”
“Absolutely.”
“I knew it.”
Kaito grinned.
Then opened another binder.
“Training starts now.”
Shinichi stared.
“It’s already evening.”
“Correct.”
“We just got home.”
“Correct.”
“I haven’t even had dinner.”
Kaito opened a notebook.
“You can eat while practicing.”
“Kaito.”
“No.”
“Kaito.”
“No.”
“Kaito.”
The phantom thief’s grin widened.
For the first time since discovering the body swap, he looked genuinely excited.
“Three days.”
He tapped the table covered in plans.
“Three days to turn the Great Detective into the perfect Kaito KID.”
Shinichi looked at the mountain of documents.
Then at Kaito.
Then back at the documents.
And for the first time since that disastrous morning, he began to suspect that surviving the body swap might actually be easier than surviving Kaito’s training.
———
Three days passed far faster than either of them would have liked.
Or perhaps, in Shinichi’s case, far slower.
By the end of the first day, he had learned that being Kaito KID involved significantly more running, jumping, climbing, balancing, flipping, and generally endangering one’s life than any reasonable person should ever attempt.
By the end of the second day, he had learned that Kaito somehow considered hanging upside down from a rooftop to be a perfectly normal training exercise.
By the end of the third day, Shinichi had stopped questioning anything.
It was easier that way.
What surprised him most wasn’t the training itself.
It was Kaito’s body.
At first, Shinichi had assumed the acrobatics would be impossible.
He was a detective, not a performer.
Yet every time Kaito demonstrated a movement, Shinichi’s body seemed to understand it before his mind did.
A jump.
A landing.
A twist.
A controlled fall.
The muscles reacted naturally.
Almost instinctively.
As though years of practice were stored somewhere deeper than conscious thought.
The first time he successfully crossed a narrow beam suspended several meters above the ground, he had frozen afterward.
Not because he nearly fell.
Because he hadn’t.
His body had adjusted automatically.
Without hesitation.
Without fear.
As if it had done it a thousand times before.
Which, knowing Kaito, it probably had.
It was unsettling.
And fascinating.
Eventually Shinichi stopped fighting it.
Instead, he began following the body’s instincts.
And somehow…
It worked.
There was another problem, however.
Energy.
Or rather—
Too much of it.
Shinichi had always considered himself fairly active.
Compared to Kaito, however, he now realized he had been living with a battery operating at perhaps fifty percent capacity.
Kaito’s body was ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
He woke up energetic.
Stayed energetic.
Remained energetic throughout the day.
Then somehow continued being energetic late into the night.
Even after hours of training.
Even after classes.
Even after climbing several buildings.
The amount of stamina packed into one human being should have violated multiple laws of biology.
Several times Shinichi found himself pacing around the apartment simply because sitting still felt uncomfortable.
His body wanted movement.
Activity.
Motion.
Anything.
He finally understood why Kaito was constantly doing something.
The alternative was apparently exploding.
One evening he found himself absentmindedly practicing card flourishes while reading.
He didn’t even realize he was doing it until Kaito pointed it out.
“See?”
Kaito said smugly.
“The body remembers.”
“I hate that you’re right.”
“I know.”
⸻
Meanwhile, Kaito was suffering.
Greatly.
Profoundly.
And very dramatically.
The problem wasn’t that Shinichi’s body was weak.
Far from it.
It was healthy.
Athletic.
Capable.
The problem was that it felt completely different.
Everything seemed heavier.
Not physically.
Just…
Slower.
More grounded.
More deliberate.
Kaito couldn’t understand it.
The first morning after the body swap, he’d jumped out of bed expecting the usual burst of energy.
Instead—
Nothing.
His limbs felt like they were wrapped in blankets.
His thoughts moved sluggishly.
The temptation to go back to sleep had been horrifyingly strong.
Kaito had spent ten minutes staring at the ceiling in disbelief.
“This is how you live?”
Shinichi had thrown a pillow at him.
The coffee incident was even worse.
On the second morning, Kaito stumbled into the kitchen looking genuinely exhausted.
His hair was a mess, his shoulders slumped, and he looked as though getting out of bed had required a personal battle.
Or rather—
Shinichi’s body looked exhausted.
Kaito still wasn’t used to that.
Meanwhile, Shinichi—currently trapped in Kaito’s body—was already awake and sitting at the counter.
Far too awake.
Far too energetic.
It was disturbing.
Without a word, Shinichi placed a steaming mug in front of Kaito.
Black coffee.
Kaito frowned immediately.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t drink coffee.”
“Your body clearly needs it.”
“My body has survived seventeen years without coffee.”
“And this week it’s barely surviving at all.”
Kaito opened his mouth to argue, then yawned halfway through.
Shinichi raised an eyebrow.
“Exactly.”
Grumbling, Kaito grabbed the mug and took a reluctant sip.
His face instantly twisted.
“Ugh.”
Shinichi looked sympathetic.
For approximately half a second.
Then Kaito took another sip.
And another.
His expression slowly shifted from disgust to confusion.
“…What.”
“What?”
Kaito stared at the coffee.
Then at Shinichi.
Then back at the coffee.
“I still hate it.”
Another sip.
“It’s bitter.”
Another sip.
“It’s terrible.”
Another sip.
“But I feel more awake.”
The kitchen fell silent.
Both of them froze.
Then realization struck.
“…Your body likes coffee.”
“…My body likes coffee.”
Kaito looked personally betrayed.
As though Shinichi’s body had committed a crime.
“This is horrifying.”
Meanwhile, Shinichi stared longingly at the mug.
The smell alone was enough to make him miss coffee.
Unfortunately, Kaito’s body reacted very differently.
The day before, he’d tried drinking a cup out of habit.
The result had been disastrous.
His heart had raced.
His hands wouldn’t stay still.
He’d spent nearly two hours pacing around the apartment with enough energy to launch himself into orbit.
Kaito had laughed for ten straight minutes.
So now Shinichi was banned from coffee.
Officially.
Against his will.
Tragically.
Kaito noticed him staring.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Shinichi sighed.
“I miss coffee.”
“You almost vibrated through a wall yesterday.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It absolutely is.”
Five minutes later, Kaito finished the entire mug.
Then stared at the empty cup.
Then slowly pushed it toward Shinichi.
“…I still hate it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“…Can I have another one?”
Shinichi immediately dropped his head onto the counter.
“This body is unbelievable.”
⸻
By the evening before the heist, the apartment looked more like a command center than a home.
Maps covered the walls. Blueprints and equipment occupied every available surface.
Meanwhile, Shinichi occupied the floor.
Flat on his back.
One arm covering his eyes.
Completely defeated.
“I’m not moving.”
Kaito flipped a page.
“No.”
“I quit.”
“No.”
“I’ve retired.”
“No.”
Shinichi groaned.
Kaito finally looked up from his binder. His gaze lingered on Shinichi’s posture, the relaxed movements, the unconscious habits he’d spent three days studying.
Then he nodded.
Once.
Twice.
A small, satisfied smile appeared.
Shinichi peeked from beneath his arm.
“What.”
“You’ll be fine.”
The detective immediately sat up.
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
Kaito closed the binder.
For the first time in days, he looked genuinely relaxed.
“I’ve watched everything. The way you walk, move, use the cape, handle the cards.”
“The smile is fake.”
“Obviously.”
“Good.”
“But it’s convincing.”
Shinichi groaned and dropped back onto the floor.
Kaito chuckled softly.
“Honestly, you learned faster than I expected.”
Shinichi looked away.
“That’s because it’s your body.”
“Partly.”
Kaito leaned back.
“But you’ve been studying Kaito KID for years.”
The room fell silent.
Then Shinichi covered his eyes again.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m too tired for this.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
Kaito’s smile widened.
“Because tomorrow is the heist.”
That immediately shut both of them up.
Outside, city lights glittered beneath the clear night sky.
Inside, two boys sat in the wrong bodies facing a problem they still couldn’t solve.
Yet somehow, for the first time since the body swap, neither looked particularly worried.
At least not about the heist.
That part, surprisingly enough, might actually work.
⸻
The next afternoon, Kaito stood in the middle of the living room with his arms crossed, one foot tapping impatiently against the floor.
The apartment looked like a miniature command center. Blueprints, photographs, schedules, and equipment lists covered the coffee table.
On the sofa, Shinichi slouched so deeply he looked moments away from sliding onto the floor. One arm hung over the backrest while the other loosely held a stack of notes.
Kaito pointed sharply at the documents.
“Review.”
Shinichi didn’t even look up.
“I already reviewed them.”
“Again.”
“I memorized them.”
“Again.”
A long suffering groan escaped Shinichi as he dropped his head against the sofa cushion.
For the third day in a row.
Kaito remained completely unmoved.
“The route?”
Without opening his eyes, Shinichi answered.
“North entrance. Maintenance corridor. Service elevator. Observation deck.”
“The timing?”
“Twenty-two minutes before the announced appearance.”
“The backup route?”
“East-side ventilation access.”
“The emergency route?”
“Rooftop cable line.”
“The smoke deployment locations?”
Shinichi pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Three.”
“The distraction points?”
“Five.”
“The decoy cameras?”
“Two.”
Kaito nodded once, satisfied.
Then his expression sharpened.
“And don’t forget what you’re doing before the heist.”
Shinichi immediately opened one eye.
A bad sign.
“I know.”
“Say it.”
“No.”
“Say it.”
Shinichi sat upright and glared.
Kaito stared back without blinking.
The silence stretched.
Neither moved.
Neither surrendered.
Finally, Shinichi looked away first.
“…Setting up the traps.”
A victorious smile tugged at Kaito’s lips.
“Good.”
Shinichi’s eye twitched.
“We can still remove that part.”
“No.”
“Nobody needs that many traps.”
“Yes they do.”
“They’re annoying.”
“They’re effective.”
“They’re excessive.”
“They’re beautiful.”
Shinichi looked genuinely horrified.
Kaito looked personally offended.
“Beautiful?”
He placed a hand over his chest as though Shinichi had insulted a work of art.
“Do you have any idea how much effort goes into those?”
“They nearly gave me a concussion during training.”
“Skill issue.”
“Kaito.”
“No.”
“Kaito.”
“No.”
The phantom thief leaned forward and pointed directly at him.
“Kaito KID prepares.”
Shinichi rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out.
“Kaito KID overprepares.”
“Kaito KID survives.”
That unfortunately ended the argument.
Mostly because Shinichi knew Kaito was right.
Judging from the deeply annoyed expression on his face, he hated that fact with every fiber of his being.
⸻
An hour later, Kaito marched back into the living room carrying a large equipment bag.
Without warning, he dropped it directly into Shinichi’s arms.
“—Whoa!”
Shinichi nearly lost his balance. The bag yanked his arms downward hard enough that he had to catch it against his chest before it slipped from his grasp.
His eyebrows shot up.
“Why is this so heavy?”
“Preparation.”
Shinichi adjusted his grip and immediately regretted it.
The thing felt like it contained bricks.
“There’s enough equipment in here to invade a small country.”
“Exactly.”
“That is not reassuring.”
Kaito looked entirely unconcerned.
In fact, he looked proud.
Which somehow made it worse.
Before Shinichi could continue complaining, Kaito grabbed both of his shoulders.
Firmly.
The sudden seriousness caught him off guard.
Kaito’s expression lost its usual playful edge.
His eyes narrowed.
“Don’t forget anything.”
Shinichi blinked.
“I won’t.”
“The traps.”
“I know.”
“The backup traps.”
“I know.”
“The emergency traps.”
“Kaito.”
“The emergency backup traps.”
“Kaito.”
“The emergency backup traps for the emergency backup traps.”
“Kaito.”
The phantom thief stared at him for a long moment.
Then smiled.
A bright, completely untrustworthy smile.
The kind that usually preceded disaster.
Shinichi immediately became suspicious.
A second later, Kaito shoved him toward the front door.
“Go.”
“What?”
“Go.”
“I still have complaints.”
“Rejected.”
Shinichi dug his heels into the floor.
Unfortunately, Kaito knew exactly how much strength Shinichi's body—or Kaito body— possessed.
The resistance accomplished absolutely nothing.
“I have concerns.”
“Denied.”
“I have questions.”
“Submit them next week.”
“Kaito—”
“No.”
“Kaito—”
“No.”
“Kaito—”
With one final push between the shoulder blades, Kaito physically propelled him through the doorway.
Shinichi stumbled into the hallway, barely keeping his balance while still carrying the absurdly heavy bag.
The apartment door slammed shut in his face.
Click.
The lock followed immediately.
Silence.
Shinichi stared at the door.
Then at the bag.
Then back at the door.
His eye twitched.
“…I hate him.”
From the other side came an entirely too cheerful voice.
“I heard that.”
Shinichi adjusted the bag higher onto his shoulder and glared at the door as if it had personally offended him.
“I wanted you to.”
A pause.
Then Kaito’s muffled laughter echoed through the apartment.
Which somehow made Shinichi even more annoyed.