AN: The first story to my 100 MK themes (not in order). This is one of my more confusing ones... Though I'm pretty proud of it.

The Second Meeting
#40- Double
Words: 500

Kaitou Kid glanced up from where he sat swaying on the faded piece of colored wood.

The visage of a little girl tugging eagerly on an older man's arm was there, one tiny hand playing with a nest of brown that was her hair. She looked a world's contrast to the mustached man she was attached to, like the princess who held a treasure trove of seashells compared to the unimaginative cynic.

There was a searching aspect to her excitement as she glanced around the playground equipment. Her gaze passed through most of them without a second look back, trying to find what only she recognized. However, when they turned towards the suspended pieces of painted boards, those bright blue eyes twinkled and her fidgeting hand stretched to point a finger in the same direction as where he sat.

"Papa, papa, he's the one. The boy on the swings. He's the one who gave me the nice flower."

Said flower's stem was clutched possessively in the small hand linked to the father's arm, but little girls had such ways with fragile items. In a depressing manner the bloom was crushed like a crumpled origami project.

The kaitou smiled affectionately in remembrance of the beauty.

Together the pair approached the equipment upon which he currently sat swinging alone. The father's expression was that of a stern man, a protective keeper wary of a stranger's contact with his daughter. As the girl must have revealed to her papa, the flower was given to her by an odd young man who magicked it out from nowhere.

At least her appearance was a merry one, changed from the dejected individual who that gift had been first given to.

A delicate blossom appeared between the crevices of Kid's gloved fingers. Silently disengaging other deft digits from the chain holding up his seat, he cupped them carefully over the red petals. His white hands protected the flower from the winds gently rocking his perch.

The two stopped before the swing sets. "My daughter told me you gave her the rose," the father prompted guardedly. A strong suspicion of all magicians was brandished like a sword in those narrowed eyes.

"Yup!" An exclamation made in a voice as young as the girl's emerged to fill the father's ears. Cheerful and direct, the innocence was a shield against that sword. Unintentionally, it also revealed to the man what a silly notion it was to harbor doubt against it.

The stern expression of the father hesitantly melted towards a soft smile, and with the smile, a less guarded acceptance. The daughter, still clutching that tattered rose, smiled brightly at her new found friend. "Aoko mentioned your name was Kaito?"

The thief stood up from the swinging board and allowed the rose to fall on the seat he just vacated. It was time to go. The phantom of his memory was still echoing Hai, keibu-san... before the last one of them faded away, leaving him alone in the deserted playground.