Dressed In The Dark

By Shyro Foxfeather

It had begun a typical day, like so many days are.

Alarm clocks were assassinated, Coffee was brewed, and teenagers traipsed resentfully towards the dwelling of all evil.

School.

Hakuba Saguru muttered incomprehensively about particular phantom thieves and how they should stop sending so many fecking heist notices.

It was apparent that a heist would take place tonight to all students with a sense of self-preservation.

Kaito was nearly bouncing off the walls of the classroom when Hakuba entered. Which was logical from the fact that a mousy haired girl was swinging a mop hysterically around aiming to hit said boy.

It all seemed so normal.

That was until…

-SWAP-

-CLANG-

-SLIP-

"WOAH!"

-THWACK-

"Itai…"

In a startling turn of events, seeing as she hardly every hit anything, anyone, or Kaito, Aoko had swung her mop handle into someone's bento box.

Which had caused it to soar two feet and spill out upon the ground.

Which had caused an oblivious Kaito to slide upon it.

Which had caused him to shriek.

Which had caused him to land on the ground, bewildered.

Which had caused the charging mop-wielder to land the handle dead on upon his left eye.

Which would soon result in a very nasty bruise.

"Kaito!" Aoko gasped. "I'm so sorry. Do you need to go see the nurse?" She asked leaning down to scrutinize the damage.

Kaito groaned from his location on the floor and twitched. "Erm… Yes actually."

Aoko helped him up and hurriedly left for the nurse's headquarters.

All the while, a very stunned British being blinked along with his peers.

That, by all means, had been highly unanticipated.

Later that night…

"Jii! Please tell me we have some of that make-up junk in here!" Kaito griped.

"Um…No Young Master."

"Stop calling me that… What about disguise masks?"

"It would take half a day at least to make a new one, Young Master."

"Stop calling… Nevermind."

Kaito stepped over to the portrait of his father shown from inside his father's secret room.

"You wouldn't mind, would you? It's an emergency and I really need to be there tonight." Kaito pleaded to the painting. "If I don't go Hakuba's goin' to be all over me and- I can? I can! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!" Cried Kaito.

Jii stood shocked. "The Young Master has finally snapped."

"Quit calling me that!" Wailed the Kuroba.

Even Later That Night…

Hakuba Saguru hadn't been expecting the day to end normally but even this was appalling strange for any Kid chaser to swallow.

The Kaitou Kid had arrived on time and efficiently out witted the taskforce. He had, as expected, ran rings around Hakuba and Nakamori. And as a final farewell he had effectively dyed Officer Nakamori's hair pink.

Which caused the Officer to erupt into vocabulary that even had the regular taskforce members writing them down to look up later.

But something had been off all the while… And Hakuba just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Was it just me-," Asked a task member aloud, "Or was the Kid wearing his monocle on the wrong eye?"

For Hakuba, it had started as a twitch.

Which had turned into a smirk.

Which had evolved into a chuckle.

Which had mutated into a full-blown bout of laughter complete with falling over.

The task force had never been so terrified in their lives.

The Next Day…

"Kaito?"

Kaito blinked over his thermos of highly caffinated Coffee. His black eye still somewhat visible. "What do you want, Hakuba?" He deadpanned.

Hakuba smirked and pulled a newspaper out of his bag.

The headlines were as follows:

Kaito 1412 Shocks Nation Proving It's Not Wise To Dress In The Dark

Owari

Disclaimer: Chaos, Logic, and myself lay no claim upon Detective Conan and are thus sadly disappointed in our Evil Genius tactics.

Chaos wanted a fic where Kaito got a black eye and had to wear his monocle on the wrong eye to cover it.

Logic intervened and claimed Kaito had ways of hiding black eyes if the problem ever presented itself.

Then Chaos didn't like the ending and added the newspaper scene.

I'm not quite sure what part I played in the production of this piece. o I suppose this may also be referenced to the trauma I faced with footy pajamas mentioned in the author notes of The Afternoon Of The Dead Dummy. I seem to be mentioning them a lot. Perhaps it will turn into a running joke, ne?