Revised: 10/25/16

Shaking Red

Pairing: Kaito x Shinichi

Rated T for strong language and mentions of violence.

It was a chilly night. The drop in temperature during the past few nights heralded the arrival of winter season in Beika, though the last vestiges of autumn still remained. Dead leaves crackled underfoot on the sidewalks. The last of the migratory birds sat atop telephone lines and chirped their farewells. People scurried here and there, wrapped in cozy winter sweaters and coats, often carrying a hot drink to keep their fingers warm.

It was on one such night that Kudou Shinichi found himself wandering about outside with no set destination in mind—something of a rarity because he worked mainly as a private investigator who lent the police an occasional helping hand. He pulled his blue scarf up to his nose, and sighed deeply. He gazed down the empty street, watching as, one by one, the golden light spilling from residents' homes disappeared behind drawn curtains as they prepared for bed. He was alone outside with nothing but the icy wind and flickering yellow street lamps for company.

Shinichi shoved his hands into his pockets when his fingers started to go numb. In all honesty, he wasn't even sure why he was walking around outside in the cold when he could be curled up by the fire at home, passing time by reading one of his prized Sherlock Holmes novels. For some reason the idea didn't appeal to him tonight, something that mystified him to no end. Kudou Shinichi, nicknamed the "Heisei Holmes" of Japan and touted as the savior of the modern police force, not interested in reading Sherlock Holmes? Ran would think he'd gone stark raving mad.

It could be the feeling that had been niggling at him all evening.

He had heard that Kaitou 1412—more popularly known as Kaitou Kid—was hosting a heist tonight. It spoke volumes about the thief's charisma that his fans would brave the chill just to watch him outwit the police and steal the gem right out from under their noses. He was sure Sonoko was there now, screaming her head off. But as far as most criminals went, Kid was essentially harmless. He regularly trampled upon the pride of the police officers assigned to stop him, but from what he had heard, the thief adhered to a strict non-violence policy. He even helped the police catch his imposters, whose morals were far more questionable than the phantom thief's.

Kaitou Kid was also notorious for returning every single gem he stole. Judging by the pattern of the thief's behavior, and the rare glimpses a few of the officers had caught of Kid viewing his stolen jewel in moonlight, the thief was most likely looking for a specific one. His true motives were shrouded in mystery, but Shinichi could tell that whatever the thief was after, he meant no harm. And really, what would be the point of him attending one of Kid's heists? He was a private homicide detective. Kid was a thief. Thieves, especially ones as showy and harmless as Kid, didn't interest him.

But tonight, Shinichi had a strange feeling gnawing at the back of his mind that something bad was going to happen. It could happen to him. It could happen to Kid. Or it could happen to any of these people peacefully going about their nightly routines, unaware of heinous thoughts stewing away in someone close to them. It was a tragedy that Shinichi had witnessed far, far too many times.

There was a small park close by. He approached one of the empty wooden benches and sat down, shivering as another strong burst of wind buffeted him. The playground looked eerily empty in the darkness, lit only by the nearby lamps. Without screaming children running around, it looked like one of those haunted scenes from the horror movies that Ran was terrified of.

His own childhood memories surfaced briefly, accompanied by a forced, bitter smile as he covered his face with his hands and let out a mirthless laugh. He had been so naive back then—so, so innocent. So excited to solve mysteries and puzzles, so eager to prove himself. Now look at him: twenty-one years old, a diligent college student and private sleuth, thought to be the best and most renowned young detective in Japan (much to his Western counterpart's constant protests), and so worn down that he felt like a walking zombie most days. Wake up, go to school, solve a crime, go home, read a book, go to bed. Rinse and repeat, day after day. Maybe that's why he was out here. He needed fresh air. He needed a break from it all.

Shinichi huffed, dragging his cold fingers down his face. He clutched his scarf in his trembling hands. Who was he kidding? He lived off the thrill of catching criminals and putting them behind bars. It was one factor that had driven a wedge into his relationship with Ran. He was always running off and leaving her behind, being late to dates because he couldn't just pass a murder up, couldn't leave a crime scene to someone else because he was right there.

Ran… if there was one other thing he could say about his life that he was wholly unsatisfied about, it would be his relationship with Ran. They were childhood friends, so she would always have a special place in his heart. At age sixteen, he'd been ecstatic when she agreed to go out with him. But four years down the road, their relationship was rife with problems and had gone stale. The gaps between their ideologies and different career paths slowly pulled them apart, until they mutually agreed to break it off. Then it became so awkward to see each other that they avoided one another. Sonoko had screamed bloody murder at him when she found out. So had Kogorou, except the washed-out detective had also tried to strangle him at the same time.

That had been nearly a year ago. Shinichi had wisely avoided the Mouri Detective Agency since then.

He pulled the scarf up to cover the tip of his nose again, then stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. He leaned against the cold wooden back of the bench and looked up. All the high-rise buildings and the bright city lights made it impossible to see the stars, much less the full moon. He shivered again. It was cold.

His thoughts wandered back to his past. In a way, he kind of missed being the genius high school detective who had excelled at soccer and had a beautiful, caring girlfriend. What did he have now? Case files piled up to his eyeballs; an isolated social life; a bone-deep weariness that followed him around and never left. Fuck, he was tired. His life was a goddamn joke. What happened to his aspirations? His hopes, his dreams?

The problem, he realized, wasn't about his goals—it was about what he was supposed to do once he achieved them.

Therein lay his problem. He was a famous detective now, something he had strived to be since he was just a kid dogging at the heels of his internationally-renowned novelist father. He had prestige, loads of fan letters, and a steady job. His parents were an ocean away, but Yukiko called him up occasionally to complain about Yuusaku's newest offense or to ask how he was doing. So… what did he do now? He had achieved what he set out to do, but…

...Why did he feel so empty inside?

Just as that thought passed through his mind, Shinichi picked up the sound of a distant gunshot. He leaped to his feet instantly, tense. He heard it again. Pinpointing the direction that it came from, he took off running. Inwardly he bemoaned the fact that he just couldn't leave well enough alone, because doing nothing to stop a possible murderer was never a viable option.

His blue scarf pooled around his neck, letting the icy wind nip at his face. He ignored it. The chill was the least of his worries now.

A third gunshot rang out, sounding much closer than the other two. Shinichi sprinted in the direction he heard the last gunshot, but slowed to a stop when he didn't see anything out of ordinary. He kept his eyes and ears open for any screams or signs of a commotion and began to slowly walk in the direction of the last gunshot again. He knew there were no firing ranges in the vicinity, so someone somewhere had to have heard or seen something.

At his next step, something wet hit his cheek. Shinichi frowned in confusion and lifted his fingers to his face. They came away red. Blood? But where did it…

As he looked skyward for answers, all he saw was something white and red plummeting towards him. The next second, a heavy body slammed him into the ground.

Shinichi groaned. Great, corpses falling from the sky. That's exactly what he needed on his night of depressing self-reflection. He pushed the body off of him, rolled over, and sat up to take stock of the situation.

He stared.

The person who just fell on top of him was no run-of-the-mill citizen. What the hell was Kaitou Kid doing all the way out here? Was the thief's heist already over? Dozens of questions piled up in his head at once, but then the present caught up to him and he realized, with some apprehension, that the phantom thief was bleeding all over the road.

Shinichi quickly held two fingers to the unconscious thief's neck. To his relief, a faint pulse thudded underneath Kid's warm skin. He glanced over the thief's body, automatically locating and filing away notes about Kid's current condition. The phantom thief's top hat was missing. He had a trail of blood running down his temple, stemming from a gash across his forehead just beneath his sweeping bangs. His monocle hung lopsided over one eye, although it was cracked right down the middle. The little clover charm that dangled from the eyepiece now sat in a tiny puddle of blood beside the thief's head. Kid was also bleeding from a deep scratch on his left arm that ran from his wrist to just above his elbow,

When Shinichi lightly touched him to feel if he had any broken ribs, the thief let out a pained sound. Yeah, falling from that height was bound to at least leave some bruises. The detective knew he had to get Kid patched up fast.

He paused. For a criminal as well-known as Kaitou Kid, being admitted into a hospital was bound to attract unwanted media attention. He could clean Kid up at home, but he didn't possess any IV drips or blood packets that would replenish the thief's own supply. He didn't even know Kid's blood type. Well, he couldn't afford to dawdle here. He wasn't above using his fame to get something he wanted, although it wasn't his preferred method of action. There were several past cases he had solved that had involved doctors; he was sure he could contact one of them and convince them to keep mum about this whole ordeal.

Shinichi picked Kid up and rearranged him onto his back the best he could. Kid's head lolled limply against his shoulder, reminding Shinichi too much of a ragdoll for comfort. He set a brisk pace back to his house, careful not to leave an obvious trail of blood in his wake. Kid's enemy might still be lurking about or searching for the thief's body so he could dispose of it.

Being as late at night as it was, there was no one walking around on the streets. Shinichi was immeasurably glad for that; it would raise hell of a lot of questions if a famous detective like him was seen carrying the unconscious and injured phantom thief on his back.

He returned home with little problem, although he struggled a bit to unlock and open his front door while keeping Kid from sliding right off his back. He brought the unconscious thief into one of the spare bedrooms and laid him down. He was careful not to jostle Kid too much.

After a quick secondary assessment of Kid's injuries, Shinichi shed his coat and scarf, grimacing at the dark stains on the back of his coat. That would be a real pain in the ass to wash out if he allowed the blood to dry. Haphazardly tossing the coat towards the door, Shinichi turned his attention back to the phantom thief lying on one of his guest beds. He was no medical expert, but he knew enough to be able to evaluate the severity of a person's wounds.

One thorough examination later, Shinichi concluded that the thief's injuries were not life-threatening and proceeded to patch him up with the medical supplies he had on hand. He mentally apologized as he divested the thief of his attire, taking care not to trigger any supplies that Kid might have stashed away on his person. He hesitated a brief moment as his hand hovered over Kid's cracked monocle. Kid would probably be pissed when he woke up and found out that his true physical appearance had been uncovered, but now was not the time to be choosy. His fingers closed over the monocle and removed it from the thief's face.

Kaitou Kid was surprisingly young. Shinichi knew he wasn't currently in disguise, so the youthful face and body of the man in front of him had to be his real appearance. But for a thief that had been active over twenty years ago, there was no way he could fake his age so realistically.

Shinichi leaned back thoughtfully, putting a hand over his mouth. Wait, if he recalled correctly, there had been an eight-year gap period between the last appearance of the original Kaitou Kid and the thief's subsequent reappearance roughly five years ago. And he remembered that fateful day about twelve years ago when he came home and found his mother sobbing over the death of her disguise mentor. What had been his name again…?

Just then Kid began to tremble, his face scrunching into a pained grimace. Shinichi frowned and put a hand over his forehead. The beginnings of a fever burned hot beneath his palm. He could gather more information later. Right now he had a sick and injured young man under his care. He quickly picked out a couple of his own clothes to dress the thief in, seeing as they were built quite similarly.

It was a good thing that Kid picked a Friday night to hold his heist. Shinichi could treat him over the weekend without worrying about missing any classes.

The first thing Kuroba Kaito was aware of when he woke up was pain. It was the dull ache of his ribs and the way his arm protested when he tried to move it. His throat felt like sandpaper. He blinked blearily up at the unfamiliar ceiling, still groggy. What happened? The last thing he remembered was launching himself off the rooftop after a successful heist, and then… yes, he'd been clipped by a bullet. There had been a sniper nearby; probably that damn Snake. The rest of the night was a confused blur and a blank.

He blinked again. Reality smashed into him like a full-blown tsunami wave and he abruptly realized that he didn't know where the fuck he was. He began to panic when he realized that his uniform was gone. Everything that hid his identity from the eyes of the public-his hat, his monocle, his suit-all of it was missing. Oh no, oh shit, oh crap, he was screwed now. Poker Face, Kaito, keep your Poker Face on! he chanted to himself before he became hysterical.

The thief tried to sit up to properly gauge his surroundings, but his ribs and his arm protested the movement. He noted with some surprise that he had been neatly bandaged up. Whoever found him last night was certainly no amateur. Considering he was lying in bed and not behind bars, he had a little hope that he could charm this person to keep his secret identity hush-hush.

Alright, step one: find out where he was and who unmasked him.

He surveyed his immediate environment with a critical eye, taking note of the somewhat elaborate decoration. The room was sparsely furnished, indicating that it was most likely a guest room, but it was clean. There was light streaming in through the cracks between the elegant cream-colored curtains drawn over the room's only window. A full glass of water sat on the bedside table, which Kaito snatched up and gulped down to relieve his parched throat. A single painting of a cluster of purple wisteria flowers hung on the opposite wall.

Overall, he was likely in one of those upper middle-class homes. The color theme of the room spoke of a woman's touch, but the minimalist decor pointed more towards a bachelor's living space.

He fervently hoped that whoever found him last night wasn't someone who enjoyed publicity and gossip. If his dual identity was exposed to the public after years of keeping it a secret, he'd be doomed. Hakuba would be unbearably smug. Nakamori-keibu would be apoplectic. Aoko...would be both furious and heartbroken. He'd be decapitated by the end of the day.

The door opened softly, breaking Kaito out of his musings. Kaito's eyes flickered over to the person who entered, tensing as he realized just whose home he was in. Of all the people to pick him up… Kaito prided himself on having extraordinarily good luck, but it seemed Lady Luck was not on his side this time.

Every person who kept up with the news in Japan would instantly recognize the face of the country's most prominent young detective, Kudou Shinichi; even more so for Kaito, who regularly kept tabs on important figures in law enforcement. Part of Kaito marveled at the fact that the detective really did have a cowlick that stuck out of the back of his head. The other parts were equally dismayed and screaming at him to make a break for it. But Kaito knew that in his current condition, he wouldn't get very far. He struggled to maintain a poker face as he met Kudou's gaze dead-on. He'd find a way to escape this detective too, if he had no other choice.

To his confusion, Kudou merely looked surprised. "You're finally awake," he said, placing a fresh glass of water down on the bedside table. "How do you feel?"

Was Kudou… not going to arrest him? Or call the police on him?

"Decent," he replied, keeping a wary eye on the detective. Kudou visibly made an effort not to perform any sudden movements. Kaito added with forced cheer, "You're not going to arrest me, are you? If you try, I'll have to take my poor, injured self out of your loving care and away from your haunted mansion." He sent a cheeky grin Kudou's way.

The college detective raised a distinctly unimpressed eyebrow. "My house certainly isn't haunted, Kid," he snorted, waving his hand in a dismissive motion. "Besides, you're injured. I might be a detective, but I'm not heartless." He lifted a hand to Kaito's forehead and measured it against his own temperature. Kudou's hand was warm and soft and Kaito had to catch himself before he leaned into it. The detective drew back, satisfied. "Looks like your fever's gone. I've got a pot of soup going downstairs if you're hungry. You've been out for two days."

On cue, Kaito's stomach growled in displeasure. Kudou smirked. Kaito had to admit that it was an incredibly attractive smirk. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of the famous investigator, but he wasn't about to pass up free food as long as it was something like chicken soup and didn't contain any finny… things.

As Kudou turned to leave, a different kind of pressure made itself known to Kaito.

"Wait!" he called out, clutching shakily at his abdomen. Kudou looked back at him with a puzzled expression. Kaito smiled sheepishly and asked, "Could you help me to the bathroom?"

Shinichi walked to the kitchen after supporting Kid to the bathroom and back to the guest room. A simple pot of chicken soup waited on the stove, bubbling gently beneath the lid. He stirred it with a wooden spatula, then turned off the heat and ladled some into a small bowl for the hungry thief waiting upstairs. Grabbing a soup spoon from the utensil drawer, he made his way back up to the guest room.

As he walked, his thoughts briefly turned back to what he knew about Kaitou Kid. By all accounts, Kid was a perpetually-elusive thief whose true identity was enshrouded in mystery. His eccentric nature and showman tendencies were unparalleled. He was as slippery as an eel, and always seemed to have at least a dozen extra tricks up his sleeve that kept him more than three steps ahead of the task force. He was the Magician Under the Moonlight, a white daredevil who stole gems at night, and so charismatic that he could probably charm his way out of a paper bag. He had legions of fans who would brave virtually anything to attend his heists, which was good for him because he could slip into the crowd in disguise and no one would be any wiser. And at the end of every night, he never failed to return the jewels he stole.

Kaitou Kid was also inarguably human.

From the moment the injured thief had fallen on him, Shinichi's image of him, pieced together by rumors, reports, gossip, and television, had transformed from a distant, untouchable figure to a very real human being. Kaitou Kid was no phantom, no matter how hard he tried to maintain that facade.

Shinichi made it up the stairs and proceeded to the guest room. When he opened the door, he half-expected Kid to have made a break for it, using food as an excuse to escape. He was pleasantly surprised to see the thief sitting up in bed, fidgeting impatiently.

"Finally!" the thief exclaimed, brightening considerably at the sight of Shinichi bearing hot soup for him.

As Shinichi crossed the room, he gave a pointed look at Kid's injured arm. "Do you think you can eat by yourself?" he questioned. "I... if you can't, I could help you." His face warmed a bit at the suggestion and he felt embarrassed that it came out of his mouth in the first place.

Kid tested his injured arm, wincing involuntarily at the sharp twinge of pain that accompanied the movement. "I can if I balance the bowl in my lap. I can use my left hand to hold the spoon," he replied. Looking back up at Shinichi, a mischievous grin surfaced on his face. "Unless you're willing to feed me, Meitantei?"

One look at those wide indigo eyes sparkling with amusement and Shinichi could see why the thief was so charming.

"If you're well enough to crack jokes, you can feed yourself," he countered without missing a beat, handing the soup bowl to the thief. "Careful, it's hot. I'll see if I can find a tray for you, but until then help yourself." He tried his best not to smile when Kid pouted at his refusal. Kid certainly acted like a kid when he felt like it.

He didn't end up finding a tray, but when he returned to the room to check on the thief, Kid seemed to be doing just fine with the bowl in his lap. Shinichi told him to get some rest afterwards so he didn't aggravate his injuries by moving around too much.

"But that's boring!" Kid complained, waving his free hand around, spoon and all. "At least let me amuse myself a little. You didn't throw away my suit, did you?"

Shinichi shook his head. "No, I washed it. I removed all your gadgets, of course. If you tell me what you want, I'll bring them to you," he offered amenably.

Kid beamed at him. Shinichi had to resist the urge to rub his eyes after being blinded by the sheer brilliance of Kid's grin, which was comparable to a particularly radiant sunbeam.

"You're much nicer than I expected such a famous detective to be," Kid said in a cheery, almost sing-song tone of voice. "I thought for sure you'd be a stick in the mud like Tantei-san!"

Shinichi's brow furrowed slightly at the nickname. "Tantei-san?" he parroted, feeling a little foolish.

"You know him, I believe. I'm referring to Hakuba Saguru," Kid informed him helpfully.

"Hakuba Saguru? Ah, yes, I do know him." Shinichi had worked with the half-British detective before. They got along well due to their mutual love of all things Sherlock Holmes, but Shinichi liked to think he was more open-minded than his fellow investigator. Sometimes Hakuba's stubbornness in sticking to his first logical conclusion proved to be detrimental to solving the case. "Compare me with him again and I won't bring you anything to alleviate your boredom."

Kid gave him a kicked-puppy look, but didn't bring up Hakuba again.

Alright, any previous assumptions Kaito had held regarding Kudou Shinichi had been completely blown out of the water. The renowned Japanese detective was almost nothing like Hakuba or the investigators on the police force. He was smart (extraordinarily intelligent, even by Kaito's high standards), and he actually had a sense of humor and a personality that didn't automatically rub Kaito the wrong way. He was in a fairly amicable mood most days and he continually put Kaito's well-being above any desire to arrest him. Kaito suspected that Kudou had had no intention of turning him in to the police in the first place; unlike Hakuba and Nakamori-keibu, both of whom would've arrested him on the spot, unconscious or not.

Although Kaito remained unmasked while under Kudou's care, the college detective did not pry for details about his actual identity. Sometimes Kudou seemed to have a strangely-knowing glint in his blue eyes, but he never said anything, and so Kaito never deigned to ask.

Kudou also didn't confine him to the guest room. Once Kaito's ribs had healed enough for him to slowly maneuver around, Kudou let him have free reign of the house. This, of course, included every escape route that Kaito could find out of the enormous residence. If Kaito had wanted to escape, he would have a long time ago. But the detective had piqued his interest. He might as well stick around and learn more about his new favorite sleuth (and if he wanted to look at that handsome face and see Kudou's rare smiles a little more, well, nobody knew but him).

The first thing that caught Kaito's attention was that Kudou seemed to be perpetually tired. There were faint shadows beneath his eyes that spoke of a lack of sleep, most likely from staying up at night solving cases when he should've been in bed sleeping. On top of that, Kudou had college classes to attend, homework to do, daytime investigations, and Kaito to take care of at home. Kaito would argue that he could take care of himself, but Kudou had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Cram all of that into a day and Kudou probably only slept about three to four hours a night. It was unhealthy. Kaito vowed to do something about it before he inevitably had to return to his own life in Ekoda.

What Kaito observed next was that Kudou's four loves in life were Sherlock Holmes, black coffee, solving cases, and soccer. His love of Sherlock Holmes was pretty much a given, as was the fact that he liked to solve cases. Kaito didn't understand how the detective could stand black coffee when it was so strong and intense and bitter on his tongue; he himself had to overload it with cream and sugar before it was even remotely palatable to him. He hadn't known that Kudou liked soccer, but it made sense he supposed. A detective of Kudou's caliber didn't get so famous just by sitting around. He made a mental note to make sure that any kickable objects were out of Kudou's range if he ever decided to attend a Kid heist.

Once Kudou left to attend classes during the day, Kaito explored the Kudou mansion. The house was huge. And the detective lived here all by himself? Kaito wondered if Kudou could feel the silence and the aura of isolation that the house seemed to exude. He shook his head in exasperation. Kudou didn't seem to have many friends, so he was likely used to it.

When he stumbled upon the library, Kaito was momentarily struck speechless. He hadn't known that it was possible to fit so many books into a single room; it was no wonder that Kudou was considered the modern Sherlock Holmes. He had everything in this room he would ever need for reference. When Kaito looked around, he spotted something that completely floored him. The Kudou family owned an entire collection of Maurice Leblanc's Arsène Lupin series. Kaito touched the first book almost reverently. Hakuba would never own a book like this. Kudou had just unknowingly cemented his place as Kaito's absolute favorite detective.

Part of Kaito wondered if Kudou had read every single book in his personal library. That was insane.

Kaito mentally mapped every escape route out of the mansion while he explored. The only room he left alone was the room at the end of the hall upstairs—Kudou's bedroom. The detective hadn't pried into his business, so Kaito felt he should return the favor by keeping out of Kudou's private space.

It was late afternoon when Kaito sat down on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate and turned on the TV. He was bored without Kudou around. There were only so many tricks he could do with the same supplies before they got old.

He took a sip of his hot chocolate, lamenting the fact that the detective didn't keep any whipped cream at home. What kind of person had instant hot chocolate but no whipped cream? He didn't even have any marshmallows that Kaito could float on top of his drink. This was an outrage!

Kaito choked on his next sip as the news report turned to a missing persons case… about him. Shit, had he really forgotten to contact the people back home? That wouldn't do—Hakuba would be even more suspicious of him now. It was a good thing his mother was away on a trip in Europe at the moment. He had long suspected that she knew of his nighttime occupation as a phantom thief, but never outright confirmed it for her.

He heard the front door open and close, indicating that Kudou was home. He briefly thought about switching channels, but quickly discarded the idea. The renowned detective had thus far proven himself trustworthy, and so Kaito might as well go ahead to let his actual identity be known to him, too. It was a bit ironic, he thought, to be putting so much faith in a single detective after he'd disdained them and their ilk for years, though it spoke volumes about the detective's character that Kaito was willing to trust him.

Kudou's quiet footsteps paused in the doorway as the news reporter began to speak.

"—police have received reports from several citizens claiming to have heard gunshots on the night of Kaitou Kid's last heist. Could this information have a connection to missing Tokyo University student Kuroba Kaito? Kuroba's disappearance has worried many of his peers, including his long-time friend Nakamori Aoko, who is coincidentally the daughter of Inspector Nakamori Ginzo of the Kaitou Kid police task force. Kuroba is well-known to the university's student body as an aspiring magician and an ardent Kaitou Kid fan. He was last seen by Nakamori and detective Hakuba Saguru after their shared afternoon class. But in the week following the Kaitou Kid heist, he failed to show up for any of his classes, which has prompted the police to launch an investigation into his disappearance."

A photo of Kaito grinning at the camera with his arm around Aoko's shoulders appeared on the TV screen.

"The police has also been investigating the claims that Kaitou Kid was allegedly shot last Friday night. Though the police did not discover a body, Kid's top hat and hang glider were both found stuck in the trees of a park in Tokyo's Beika district. Unfortunately, no further information has been disclosed by the police. The Nakamori family has declined to comment on Kuroba's absence. If anyone has new information on the case, please contact the police."

The news reporter went on to talk about an underground drug ring that was discovered and dismantled by Osakan college detective Hattori Heiji. Kaito turned to look at Kudou at the doorway, keeping his face carefully neutral. Kudou, however, looked like he'd just had a suspicion confirmed because he chuckled into a raised fist.

"Is your name actually Kaito? Your father certainly had a unique sense of humor," he said, his eyes alight with amusement. "His name was Kuroba Toichi, wasn't it?"

Kaito stared at him. "You knew him?" he asked weakly, draining the rest of his hot chocolate. "I don't… how?"

"My mother learned the art of disguise from him," Kudou mentioned with a graceful shrug of his shoulders. "And I actually met him once when I was a kid. He was a good man. I'm sorry for your loss."

Kaito turned away, sinking into the soft couch cushions with a sigh. "Thanks. I really miss him," he murmured, turning the TV off. He placed his empty mug on the coffee table. Kudou crossed the threshold and sat on the couch next to him. He didn't speak, merely offered his presence as a small measure of comfort. Kaito cracked a half-smile at that. He had already had twelve years to get used to his father's death; hearing about him wasn't going to make him break down.

Well, both the news and the reminder about Toichi's death had created such a gloomy atmosphere. That was the exact opposite of what Kaito wanted to do while he was still under Kudou's care. So he leaped off the couch and sketched a bow towards the bewildered detective.

"My name is indeed as you heard it. Kuroba Kaito, at your service," he sang, extending a hand towards the detective. "You can call me Kaito."

Kudou blinked at the offered appendage, but he took it and shook it firmly. "I'm Kudou Shinichi, a private investigator. It's nice to know the man behind today's Kaitou Kid," he said, smiling.

"It's a pleasure to know you too! Do you mind if I call you Shinichi?" asked Kaito, leaning forward excitedly.

The detective gave him a confused look, but nodded slowly. "Sure, I don't mind," he allowed, letting go of Kaito's hand. Kaito was sure that his following grin blinded the college sleuth.

When it was time for Kaito to return to his own life, he found himself oddly reluctant. He had thoroughly enjoyed the past few weeks with Shinichi, simply conversing with the private eye, debating about both serious and mundane topics, and being able to let his guard down with no repercussions. He honestly didn't want to leave. He had let his mother know that despite the news circulating about his absence, he was perfectly fine and she didn't need to be concerned about him. Aoko constantly messaged him to ask him where he was and why he hadn't come back to school yet. He had even received a (very stiff) voicemail from Hakuba inquiring after his well-being.

Kaito still chuckled at the memory of Hakuba's expression when he had learned that Kaito knew his phone number. He had been horrified.

Shinichi opened the door for him. He looked a little sad that Kaito was leaving. The phantom thief paused just before he stepped through the doorway. "Hey… Shinichi?" he piped up, glancing back at the detective. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?" said Shinichi.

"Will you come to my next heist?" Kaito adopted a serious face as he posed the question to his temporary housemate.

Shinichi gave him an incredulous look. "You're still going to hold heists even after getting shot down last time? Are you mad?" he verbalized loudly, his voice conveying utter disbelief.

Kaito wagged a finger at him, winking. "I promise I'm perfectly insane. You know I can't let my dad's legacy die just like that," he said. "I just want you to come once. You don't have to come to any of the other ones if you don't enjoy yourself. Just this once. Please?" He used the best puppy eyes in his arsenal for maximum effect.

It worked like a charm. Shinichi twitched and hastily looked away, stammering, "I-I don't know, there are a lot of potential murderers out there that I could stop—"

"Forget the murders for just one moment, alright?" Kaito interrupted, turning around and grabbing Shinichi's hand. The detective froze, looking from their joined hands to Kaito's face. His cheeks pinked a little, to Kaito's pleasure.

"What are you doing?" he asked. His voice remained remarkably calm.

The thief smiled. "I know you're not getting enough sleep, Shinichi. You deserve a break, you know. I think coming to one of my heists will do you some good. Besides, wouldn't it be refreshing to get away from all those dead bodies once in a while?" he cajoled gently.

"...True," the detective admitted. He chewed absently on his lower lip as he weighed the pros and cons of the activity in his head. Kaito totally wasn't watching him do it and wishing he could kiss the detective instead, nope. He forced himself to keep his gaze level with the detective's and shoved the fantasies to the back of his mind.

Finally Shinichi agreed, "Fine, I'll go to your next heist. You better watch yourself, Kaito." He gave the thief a challenging smirk. It was so unbelievably attractive that Kaito nearly missed his cue to reply.

He gave a shark-like grin in return. "Oh, I promise to make it one of the best nights of your life," he purred, releasing Shinichi's hand. And Kaito never made promises he couldn't keep.

Kaito's grand return to normal university life was celebrated by an explosion of colorful confetti as he stepped into the lecture hall. The sheer familiarity of the action had both the professor and the students gaping at him like fis—like idiots. He spread his arms out wide, relishing in their stupefied gazes, and loudly announced, "I'm back~! Did you guys miss me?" He threw in a charming wink and another handful of confetti for good measure. "I'm sure it's been rather drab without me around—"

"KAITO!" Someone barreled into him with all the speed and force of a bullet train, both derailing him mid-speech and knocking him backwards out of the doorway and on to the floor. He landed hard, the wind momentarily knocked out of him.

"Ack! Watch the ribs, Aoko! My ribs!" he choked as the young woman sobbing into his shirt gave him a crushing hug. "Argh…" He refrained from protesting any further when her bawling continued with no signs of stopping. The students around them gave them strange looks. He waved them off with a sheepish smile and pushed at his best friend's trembling shoulder. "Hey, Aoko. Aoko? Let me up, will you?"

Aoko's crying ceased and she sat up, sniffling pitifully. She wiped at her eyes. As Kaito slowly picked himself off the floor, gingerly feeling along his sides to make sure he hadn't acquired any new bruises, she punched him in the stomach.

"Where the hell have you been, BaKaito?" she cried as he doubled over, wheezing. "Do you have any idea how worried I was this whole time?! You idiot! You… you stupid, selfish, crazy, imbecilic moron!"

Kaito waited as she called him every name in the book and then some, with several mop-related threats interpolated between, before she finally ran out of steam and resorted to glaring at him teary-eyed, her chest heaving.

"Dumbass," she hiccupped, beating a fist weakly against his chest.

"Sorry, Aoko," he apologized, feeling a twinge of guilt that he had still worried her so much despite constant assurances that he had been fine. "I was caught up in something dangerous and sustained some nasty injuries. But it's alright now. I stayed with a friend and he patched me up!" He flashed her a brilliant grin. "Forgive me?"

She laughed weakly despite her own sorry state. "Of course! I'm just thankful that you're safe. It's hard being the daughter of a policeman and knowing one of my best friends was out there and possibly in danger," she explained, standing up and dusting off her clothes. Kaito silently slipped her a handkerchief so she could clean her face. She gave him a watery smile. "Thanks. Welcome back, Kaito."

A chorus of unanimous agreement rose up among his classmates, some of whom had crowded around the doorway to watch the drama unfold. Kaito was subjected to a lot of handshakes and claps on the back as he stepped back into the lecture hall. His professor was shaking her head in exasperation behind the podium. He could see it splashed across various headlines tomorrow: Missing Tokyo University Student Kuroba Kaito Miraculously Returns! He'd have to be extra creative getting back to his house the next few days if he didn't want to be swamped by reporters.

As the class settled down around him, someone softly cleared their throat. He looked up to meet Hakuba's wary gaze, and—was that relief he could see lurking in the depths of the detective's eyes? He thought he'd never see a day where Hakuba would be glad to see him.

"Kuroba. It's… good to see you alive and well," said the blonde a little awkwardly. "Where were you?"

"With a friend," Kaito replied, leaning back. "I promise it was somewhere safe and I wasn't kidnapped by a crime syndicate or anything."

"Very funny." Hakuba rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to interrogate Kaito some more when the professor called for silence so she could begin the day's lecture. The blond detective gave him a look that screamed 'this isn't over' and turned his attention to the front of the class. Excellent, now he had a reason to retaliate with something embarrassing if Hakuba nosed around in his business. He kept one ear tuned to the lecture as his thoughts began to wander.

He wondered how Shinichi was doing.

Roughly a month later, Shinichi returned home and found a small, innocuous white card sitting on top of his kitchen table. Bemused—and knowing that only one person could have left it there while he was out—he picked it up.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a full bouquet of roses fell from the ceiling and landed on the table. Breathing unsteadily, he gave a wild look around to make sure Kaito wasn't hiding somewhere and laughing at his reactions. There was no sign of the thief, thankfully. He eyed the bouquet doubtfully. Why on Earth did Kaito bother giving him roses? They were all red, too. Ran and Sonoko used to wax poetic about all the romantic symbolism and meanings behind red roses, but to Shinichi they were just dead plants.

The detective could just see Ran rolling her eyes at him now. He'd been told before that he had the romantic density of a rock, but he honestly didn't understand how flowers could be considered a symbol of love. Flowers faded; they wilted and died, just like his relationship with Ran.

He turned his attention to the white card he was holding. His name was printed neatly on one side in royal blue ink. When he looked at the other side, he found a riddle; most likely the heist notice. Kaito had written him a personal invitation accompanied by flowers. He didn't get it. He had told Kaito he was going, the thief could have just given him the heist notice. Why go through all the trouble of making it fancy?

White Gods rise to crows' demise,

To pretty pink and purple lies,

Zu znk cngrk igmkj otyojk ozy tkyz,

May starlight grant freedom at its behest,

And bellow forth to the skies.

—Kaitou Kid (caricature)

Shinichi muttered to himself as he turned parts of the riddle over in his head, "White Gods rise…"

This was a definite play on words. As egotistical as Kaito was, Shinichi didn't think he would refer to himself as a god. However, in mythological tales, the White Goddess was often linked to the moon. White Gods rise was an indication of the time that the heist would take place: at moonrise. The second half of the first line was a bit more obscure. It could either refer to the police or the location where the heist would take place. Although Kaito had used the word for 'demise', the second line had been written in such a way that the word for 'lies' was directly underneath it

He had heard that Kaito often employed the use of sleeping gas or multi-colored smoke at his heists, so it wasn't difficult to figure out what the second line referred to. 'Lies' could also be a reference to the magician's illusionary tricks, which deceived the eyes.

The third line was the only one written entirely in English letters. At first glance it seemed to be a jumble of nonsense, but Shinichi figured that the English letters had to be a key to solving the code. Algorithmic encryptions were commonly used to hide important messages or information, weren't they? Since the letters were in English, the code must be alphabet-related. Knowing Kaito, he had probably written the line in ciphertext for fun; although when Shinichi glanced over the entire message, he surmised that the coded line must be the one containing information about the gem he was after. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He could solve it if he could just find the pattern…

Zu znk cngrk igmkj otyojk ozy tkyz—there were spaces between the letters that pointed to actual words. It wasn't written backwards, nor were the words rearranged. The first and last letters in the line did match up, though. Perhaps forming a circle? If Kaito had written it using a specific cipher, then, judging by the arrangement of the English letters, he had most likely used the Caesarian Cipher. It was the most commonly used cipher that switched the letters in the words a number of times to the left or the right, sort of like a rotate-N equation, or otherwise known as a wheel cipher. Kaito had underlined the only 'r' that was in the coded line; that meant he had switched the letters a number of times to the right. In order for Shinichi to solve it, he would have to backtrack and turn the letters to the left until they made sense.

He did love his puzzles. Both of them did.

Yt ymj bmfqj hflji nsxnij nyx sjxy. Xs xli alepi gekih mrwmhi mxw riwx. Wr wkh zkdoh fdjhg lqvlgh lwv qhvw. Vq vjg yjcng ecigf kpukfg kvu pguv. Up uif xibmf dbhfe jotjef jut oftu. To the whale caged inside its nest—

Aha! What gem could that line possibly be referring to? "To the whale caged inside its nest," he muttered to himself. Was it referring to the crows in the first line? If he recalled correctly, didn't a wealthy collector named Karasuma Takeshi recently get his hands on a rare diamond that sparkled a myriad of colors when held to the light? There were rumors that the image of a whale could be seen inside the jewel, but that had yet to be confirmed. The jewel was currently on display in a museum as part of a limited-time exhibition showing off mysterious gems around the world. In other words, quintessential Kid bait.

The fourth line was a reference to Kaito's little moonlight ritual, where he would hold the stolen gem up to the moon. The thief had avoided mentioning what the purpose of that was, but Shinichi was sure that he was searching for something specific.

The fifth line… Shinichi had to stifle a chuckle, because he wasn't sure if Kaito's notice was poking fun at Nakamori-keibu's loud voice or if the jewel had some sort of way to make bellowing sounds. The latter possibility was ridiculous at best; he'd have to go with the former.

He looked at the bouquet again. He still didn't know what to make of them, but they were pretty enough that it would be a shame to just throw them away. He put the card down and went to hunt down a vase.

You're on, Kaitou Kid.

The downside of being intellectually gifted was that it was difficult to understand how the average human mind worked.

Shinichi had the entire museum layout, including all possible entrances and exits, mapped out and memorized within half an hour. However, Nakamori Ginzo would not be having some upstart college brat ordering his officers around, no matter the praises showered on the detective by his own Beika acquaintances. He made his opinion known quite forcefully. Shinich thought his ears might fall off if he was continually deafened by the sheer volume of Nakamori-keibu's shouting and cursing.

The inspector had a good head on his shoulders, but he simply could not match wits with Kaitou Kid. That didn't deter him. Shinichi could at least grudgingly give the man some brownie points for his persistence.

Hakuba was also present at the heist. Unfortunately he was not immune to the customary cheek pull and Nakamori-keibu's vociferous ranting. The two detectives shared brief long-suffering glances as they endured the inspector's tirade together.

When Nakamori-keibu finally wound down and stormed off to the exhibition room, they parted ways. Hakuba went to find the best hallway to ambush Kid; one that was hopefully devoid of traps or had traps that could be easily dismantled. Knowing that Kid typically made his escape via rooftop, Shinichi headed upstairs.

The cityscape at night was enchanting. Not only was the rooftop a fantastic vantage point, but Shinichi could see the city stretching towards the horizon, thousands of tiny pinpricks of light shining red and orange and yellow in the buildings and the streets. Some winked out, others came on. Cars raced down the roads, headlights flashing. Sirens blared in the distance. The blinking red lights of an outgoing plane vanished into the darkening sky. It was actually quite peaceful.

Shinichi pulled his coat a little tighter around himself. The chill of winter had settled into the city, bringing sharp winds and brief bouts of snow with it. Kid had good timing though; he set his heist during a clear night with relatively mild winds. The wind currents from the rooftop were strong enough to support Kid and his glider, but not so strong that the thief would be thrown against the side of a building.

It was cold up there, but Shinichi could bide his time. He had no desire to get caught up in the chaos that the phantom thief was undoubtedly going to cause below. Besides, he wasn't trying to catch Kid. He was just keeping his promise to come to the heist.

He dug his phone out from his coat pocket. Two minutes until the heist started. He settled down to wait.

If Nakamori-keibu's muttered complaints about snot-nosed college brats thinking they could take over his operation of capturing Kaitou Kid were anything to go by, Shinichi had shown up to his heist like he promised. Kaito had seen Hakuba lurking around in one of the hallways earlier and made a mental note to check up on the traps he'd set up earlier. He surveyed the area, finding no sign of that familiar cowlick. He gave a mental shrug as he readied himself, disguised as a task force member (Nakamori-keibu never seemed to check his officers again after the initial face-pull inspection). Shinichi was probably waiting elsewhere. He'd turn up soon enough.

He counted down the seconds in his head: three… two… one…

Blackout!

The lights blinked out, plunging the exhibition room into instant darkness. Kaito slipped on a gas mask, swiped the gem from the glass case, and proceeded to fill the room with his usual pink sleeping gas.

Having fallen for this particular trick one too many times, Nakamori-keibu and the more experienced members of the task force avoided falling victim to the sleeping gas.

"Turn the lights back on!" the inspector roared. The emergency lights came on almost instantly, exposing the flutter of Kaito's white cape as he vanished around the corner of an adjacent hallway. "After him!" Kaito laughed gleefully as Nakamori-keibu bellowed orders left and right behind him. He never changed.

As the task force members charged after him, Kaito snapped his fingers to trigger his traps. Cries of dismay echoed behind him and someone shouted about something sticky. He grinned to himself beneath the brim of his hat. He was actually quite proud of that spiderweb trap.

Now if he recalled correctly, Hakuba was waiting around here somewhere…

Sweeping past another corner, he almost ran straight into the blond detective. Hakuba lunged forward, throwing one end of his handcuffs towards Kid's closest wrist. He missed, and tripped over a wire that he was absolutely positive had not been there a second ago. Green slime and sparkly feathers rained down on him from the ceiling, making him sputter as he fought to keep himself free.

"Better luck next time, Tantei-san!" the thief called over his shoulder as he pranced down the hallway. Hakuba cursed at him as he struggled with the sticky, feathery mess on the floor.

Kaito led the task force on a merry chase through the building, laughing every time they triggered another trap. But Shinichi never once showed his face. Kaito found himself wondering where the detective was. He'd thought Shinichi was here because Nakamori-keibu had been complaining earlier, but it was possible that he'd only been referring to Hakuba and not Shinichi. Kaito inwardly frowned. Shinichi had promised to come to his heist—and Kaito had even sent him a personal invitation!—yet in the past hour, he'd seen neither hide nor hair of the renowned private investigator. Where was he? A cold, ugly feeling began to well up in his chest and he could only try to convince himself that it wasn't disappointment.

He was losing the battle. Badly.

As he neared the roof, Kaito once more cast a searching glance behind him, looking for that familiar handsome face with a sharp blue gaze and unique cowlick. There was only the shouting and chaotic movement long-associated with Nakamori-keibu and his bumbling officers. Kaito felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest. Shinichi wasn't here. He hadn't kept his promise to come to Kaito's heist. Suddenly it felt meaningless; without Shinichi here to provide a challenge, it was just going to be another one of his typical heists. Maybe he had gotten caught up in a case and he couldn't make it. Maybe he had had a change of heart and decided that chasing Kaito was less important than solving his murder cases. In any case, if Shinichi didn't make his appearance by the end of the heist, Kaito was going to drop by his house later and give the stupid detective a piece of his mind!

He practically flew over the last stairwell leading to the door to the roof. Nakamori-keibu and the officers were far behind him. Shinichi wasn't there. Kaito sighed despondently and opened the door, believing that the detective hadn't decided to come after all—and nearly got beaned in the face by a soccer ball traveling at such a high speed that he felt heat as it whizzed past his ear and cracked the wall next to him.

Kaito froze. Eyes wide with abject terror, he slowly turned to look at the solid dent the soccer ball left in the wall, then to the aforementioned ball that had rolled to a stop a few feet away. It was still smoking. He fought the instinctive urge to get the hell out of there as fast as he could, because there was only one person who could possibly do something like that.

"Meitantei," he began, trying to keep the fear out of his voice, "I appreciate your timely presence, but… are you trying to kill me?"

The smirking young man standing at the opposite end of the roof shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to look nonchalant. "No," he said casually. "Just trying to catch you off-guard. If I wanted to hit you, I wouldn't have aimed at the wall. Knocking you out would make you far easier to apprehend."

"But you'd ruin my handsome face!" the thief complained.

Shinichi rolled his eyes. "Oh, you'd be fine, you big baby. Who knows, maybe you'd look better with a broken nose," he teased, taking a few light steps towards Kaito. The humorous timbre of his voice indicated to Kaito that the sleuth was just kidding with him. Still, that close call with the soccer ball was going to make him wary of opening closed doors from now on, especially when a certain Holmes-loving, soccer maniac of a detective was around.

Nakamori-keibu's voice echoed from below, "Kid! I've got you now!" Kaito snapped out of his momentary stupor. His trademark grin slid back on his face and he sashayed forward to meet the detective halfway.

"Well, what are you going to do now, Meitantei?" he asked, spreading his arms out.

Shinichi coughed awkwardly into one fist. He had to do this before the police got to the roof, otherwise he'd have hell of a lot of explaining to do. "I have… a question for you, Kid," he said, drawing close enough to the thief that he could almost see Kaito's other eye through the monocle. "It's about the flowers you left with the heist notice."

The phantom thief tilted his head to the side. "Were they not to your liking? I picked out the freshest and reddest ones I could find from my own personal garden!" he asserted.

The detective coughed again, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "Oh, it's not about that. The color was fine. But they're just dead plants, aren't they? Why bother giving them to me?" he queried.

Kaito's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. Had he actually heard that right? He almost burst out laughing at the inane question. Who in this day and age doubted flowers as a gesture of romantic intentions? Shinichi was only further endearing himself to Kaito's heart. His favorite detective, possessing such keen intellect, and yet was somehow utterly oblivious to matters of the heart. Well, Kaito was more than willing to show him what he meant. Actions did speak louder than words.

"Because I wanted to show you how much I absolutely adore you?" he responded saccharinely, clasping his hands together and batting his eyes in a false seductive manner.

Shinichi gave him an unimpressed stare. Kaito dropped the cringeworthy act at once. He could hear the footsteps of the task force members running up the last flight of stairs to the roof. He didn't want his moment with Shinichi ruined just yet.

Leaning towards the detective so that they were essentially nose-to-nose, Kaito murmured, "I'm sure you can make that deduction for yourself, Meitantei." He winked, watching in fascination as an embarrassed blush suffused the detective's cheeks. Excellent, that meant Shinichi wasn't entirely hopeless.

"You—but we haven't known each other for very long," Shinichi protested weakly, taking a step backward.

"That's what dates are for, isn't it?" Kaito coaxed, wrapping an arm around the investigator's waist so that he couldn't run away.

"Dates?" Shinichi squeaked. He blushed even redder. "But… but I'm a detective! And you're a thief!"

"That doesn't matter," Kaito said firmly, laying a single gloved hand against Shinichi's cheek. "I'm going to make you mine, Shinichi." The college sleuth's eyes went wide at the use of his name, before Kaito closed the distance between them and kissed him like he'd been wanting to do for weeks.

Shinichi was too shocked to do anything but stand there stupefied when Kaito drew back. Nakamori-keibu and his officers burst through the doorway to the rooftop a second later.

Giving the panting inspector a confident smirk, Kaito threw down a flash bomb to make his getaway. "Too late, Nakamori-keibu! Bye now~!"

"Damn you, Kid! Get back here!" the head of the Kaitou Kid Task Force roared, shielding his eyes from blinding light.

Kaito laughed delightedly as he launched himself off the rooftop, feeling his new hang glider open and ride the familiar wind currents, taking him home. He had surreptitiously snuck the gem into one of Shinichi's pockets before he left. It wasn't what he was looking for, anyway.

Nakamori-keibu's next string of curses were so loud that Kaito swore they could be heard from the other side of the city.

Later Kaito let himself into the Kudou mansion, to Shinichi's exasperation. The thief most likely wanted to follow up with what he said on the rooftop. Shinichi had looked at the issue from every angle and admitted to himself that he wouldn't mind it if Kaito became his boyfriend. He felt only the barest twinge of guilt when he thought about what Ran—or heaven forbid, his own parents—might say about this new development, but that was a discussion for another day.

So when Kaito laid a tentative hand over his hip—asking for permission, for an answer to his unspoken question—Shinichi only hesitated for a brief moment before he said yes.

Mouri Ran stood outside the tall, imposing iron gates of the Kudou mansion, which gleamed polished and black in the bright sunlight. An apprehensive look graced her youthful face. She worried absently at her lower lip, debating the merits of walking in to see her ex-boyfriend. They hadn't spoken much since their relationship ended over a year ago. Truthfully, she missed talking to him, so she had come here today to try and repair their friendship.

Only, she couldn't seem to muster up that last bit of courage to go through the gates to his house.

What was she doing? It was just Shinichi's house—she'd been here so many times that it was almost like a second home to her. Why was she getting nervous now? It wasn't like Shinichi was going to be so upset to see her that he'd throw her out on her ass (if he ever did that to any of his close friends, she'd be more likely to believe that he was an imposter). All she had to do was go through the gate, walk to the door, and ring the doorbell.

You can do this, Ran, she mentally told herself. You're a karate black-belt and a three-time regional champion. You can go and have a conversation with your childhood friend that's long overdue. Imagine giving herself a pep talk. She was used to doing it with her fellow karate club members at the university, but psyching herself up wasn't something she had to do as often because she usually had Sonoko around to perform the task for her.

Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, she pushed the gate open.

When she reached the front door, she rang the doorbell. While waiting for a response—knowing Shinichi, sometimes she'd have to ring the doorbell several times before he took his nose out of the book he was reading—she observed her surroundings. To her surprise, there were actually a few changes since the last time she'd been here. Off to the side, neatly hidden from curious passersby, were a row of assorted rose bushes. A small white gazebo overlooking the grounds sat beside the roses, a little wind chime dangling from one corner of its roof. A couple of white doves were quietly drinking from the stone bird fountain placed near the closest window, which had been left partially open.

Had Shinichi's mother done some redecorating recently or… had Shinichi found someone else in her absence? The latter thought didn't pain her as much as she expected.

A moment later, the door swung open.

"Shinichi? I know it's been a long time, but do you mind if I come in? I'd like to talk to you about something," she uttered quickly, peeking through her bangs at the person standing at the door. A part of her absently noted that Shinichi's hair seemed unusually messy.

The young man squinted at her curiously. "...Aoko? What are you—wait, you're not Aoko. Your hair is way neater than hers will ever be," he declared, opening the door just a little wider.

Ran was bewildered. What on Earth was Shinichi talking about?

"You're looking for Shinichi, right?" the man asked, grinning blithely.

She blinked at him slowly, downright confused. "You mean… you're not Shinichi?" she murmured, casting a long, suspicious glance over his figure. Now that she thought about it, Shinichi's hair would never be that unruly even on his worst day, and his eyes were bluer than the darker indigo shade this guy had. This man was slightly broader around the shoulders. He also carried himself with an innate confidence that didn't quite fit with the personality of her childhood friend. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Then who are you?"

The bright young man laughed. "Oh, we get that lot. You can't imagine how much fun I have with it," he snickered, his entire face dancing with amusement. Ran felt herself smile back despite her initial doubts. He let go of the door and gave her a bow, popping a yellow rose out of his closed fist. "Kuroba Kaito, at your service. You can call me Kaito. May I have the honor of knowing the name of such a lovely young lady?"

"Oh my, um, thank you," Ran fumbled, blushing lightly. She took the proffered flower and wondered when and how Shinichi managed to befriend someone so charming. "My name is Mouri Ran. Is Shinichi here?"

"He sure is. Hey, Shinichi! Mouri Ran is here to see you!" Kaito hollered over his shoulder. Ran raised her eyebrows a fraction when she realized that this charismatic young man had called her childhood friend by his given name rather than his surname. They must be closer than she originally guessed.

There was a muffled crash from inside the house, like the sound of something heavy falling to the floor, followed by a familiar voice exclaiming, "Ran is?" Rapid footsteps pattered down the stairs. A moment later Kaito moved to the side so that Shinichi had space to talk to her. She looked from one face to the other, mentally cataloguing their differences so she could tell them apart next time.

"Hi, Shinichi," she greeted, giving him a nervous smile. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," he agreed, immediately moving back to let her into the house. Ran slipped off her shoes at the entrance, lining them up neatly with the other pairs. "I'll make some tea for you. Kaito can entertain you for now." He shot his companion a glare when Kaito tried to slip away.

Kaito countered with his best angelic face, complete with an innocent smile and can't-hurt-a-fly demeanor. "I can make the tea while you guys chat," he offered as they migrated to the living room.

Shinichi rolled his eyes. "Kaito, you are not going anywhere near my kitchen after you gave us both food poisoning last time," he drawled, making sure to enunciate every syllable with sarcasm.

The magician pouted, crossing his arms petulantly. "It was an accident," he sulked.

"And if you try again, I'll feed you fish for dinner."

Ran watched in bemusement as Kaito's attitude flipped a complete 180. "You wouldn't," he said, horrified.

"I would," Shinichi confirmed.

"You monster!" Kaito wailed dramatically, clutching at his chest. He pretended to swoon gracefully on to the couch and covered his face with one arm. "I can't believe Shinichi doesn't love me!"

Ran laughed behind one hand as her childhood friend gave her a look of long-suffering that just screamed 'see what I have to deal with everyday?' The detective then disappeared into the kitchen to start making the tea, leaving her alone in the room with his friend. She seated herself on the couch beside the magician, who had stopped flailing and sat up to face her.

"So, Kaito-kun—" she began.

"Just 'Kaito' is fine, Mouri-chan," Kaito interrupted, giving her a sunny smile.

"You can call me 'Ran', then," the karate champion responded affably. "So, Kaito, how did you meet Shinichi?"

Kaito hummed, slowly drumming his fingers against his knee. "We met about five, maybe six months ago. I was badly injured and I passed out right on top of him. Embarrassing, right? He patched me up and we hit it off from there," he explained, making little gestures with his hands to go along with his words.

"Oh!" Ran's eyes lit up in recognition and she leaned forward slightly. "That's right, I'd almost forgotten, but you were in the news back then. Kuroba Kaito, the missing Tokyo University student who was mysteriously absent for a few weeks, then miraculously returned!"

"That was me," said Kaito, grinning. "I couldn't move very well with my injuries. Shinichi kindly let me stay here while I recovered."

"Why didn't he just take you to the hospital?" Ran wondered, mystified. "If it's the medical bills you were concerned about, Shinichi's family is more than wealthy enough to cover that."

"Secret~!" Kaito intoned playfully, holding a finger to his lips and winking. Ran knew he wasn't telling the whole truth, but let it slide this time around because it was clearly a personal matter between him and Shinichi. She did wonder sometimes if the detective got in over his head with some shady characters, but so far Kaito seemed to be good person all around.

Kaito held up a deck of cards, which he had seemingly whipped out of thin air. "Hey, want to see some magic? Shinichi should be back with the tea any moment," he said.

Ran blinked, her mouth opening slightly in surprise. "Magic?" she repeated curiously.

The next few minutes, any residual trepidation she had harbored about speaking with Shinichi was lambasted out of existence by Kaito's unending repertoire of seemingly-impossible tricks. From variations of the classic sleight of hand to pulling items out of strange places to making it rain multi-colored confetti and vanishing them before they made a mess, Kaito could do them all with the ease borne of long hours of practice. She briefly wondered how someone as effervescent and buoyant as Kaito could have befriended her reclusive, studious, and awkward childhood friend. Then a pair of doves burst out from beneath Kaito's shirt and she had to stifle a giggle as the magician donned a faux dismayed expression and cried out that they should have been rabbits. Ran recalled the two doves she had seen outside at the bird fountain and thought they must be Kaito's.

Shinichi reappeared with three cups of fresh green tea just as Kaito snapped his fingers and made the birds disappear. He handed one cup to Ran and one to Kaito, then sat down between them with his own steaming mug. The magician was the only one who had a cup with a touch of cream and sugar added in.

Kaito beamed. "Aw, Shin-chan! You made it just the way I like it!" he crooned, patting Shinichi lightly on the shoulder.

The detective went pink in the cheeks and tried to hide behind his tea cup. "Don't call me that," he muttered, flustered.

The karate champion look from one man to the other, a slightly confused expression on her face. She was definitely missing something here, but—those roses, that gazebo outside, the casual familiarity they treated each other with—could it be that Kaito…

Shinichi lowered his cup and took a slow sip of his tea. "So Ran? What did you want to talk about?" he inquired, pointedly looking in her direction and not Kaito's. She watched the magician pout and lightly swirl the liquid in his own cup. He leaned on the armrest, blowing at the little tendrils of steam rising out of the cup.

"Oh, um…" she sipped at her own tea to calm the sudden flare of nervousness that sprung up in her body, careful not to burn her tongue. "I just wanted to apologize."

Her childhood friend gave her a baffled stare. "Apologize for what?" he asked, looking nonplussed.

"For the fact that we couldn't have had a better relationship," she admitted readily. "I know that things have been awkward between us since we broke it off, but it's already been more than a year, you know? I miss being able to talk to you about things."

Shinichi shifted around hesitantly. "I miss you too, Ran," he replied, drinking more of his tea. "You know I'm not mad at you, right?"

"Yeah." Ran smiled sadly. "It was my own stubbornness that I couldn't get past." She traced the rim of her tea cup with a single finger.

Kaito downed the remainder of his tea, placing the cup on the coffee table in front of them. He leaned forward to scrutinize her carefully. Ran wasn't sure what he was looking for exactly, so she absently smoothed the non-existent wrinkles in her skirt.

"You know, you look a lot like my own childhood friend," he said after a moment, breaking the silence. "You guys could almost be twins."

"Your childhood friend?"

"Yeah, you might have heard of her father. Her name's Nakamori Aoko," Kaito revealed. "That's who I thought you were when I answered the door earlier."

"Oh! How funny," she remarked, letting out a laugh. "I look like your childhood friend and you look like mine."

"The world works in mysterious ways," the magician declared sagely, nodding in tandem with his words. He gave her a sideways glance over Shinichi's head as the detective bent forward to place his own empty cup on the coffee table. "So you used to be Shinichi's girlfriend, hm?"

Ran nodded, cradling her half-empty tea cup in her hands. "It didn't work out the way we wanted it to," she replied quietly. Her eyes flickered briefly to Shinichi, whose shoulders drooped with slight guilt, then back to Kaito. "What about you and Nakamori-chan? Did you ever…?"

The young man grimaced. "No, it never would have worked. She's violent and loud-mouthed and aggressive and… and she's dating Hakuba." He sounded personally affronted. Ran wasn't sure who this Hakuba person was, but there was definitely some unpleasant history between him and Kaito. So if her current suspicions were correct, then—

Kaito's face suddenly split into a shit-eating grin that spelled all sorts of promises for mischief and future mass mayhem. It was a little disconcerting to see on the easy-going magician's face, but also strangely suited him. She saw Shinichi lean away from him with a guarded gaze. "Kaito, don't you dare…!"

He squawked in protest as Kaito threw his arms around him, latching onto him like an overgrown bear. "But that's alright, because Shin-chan's mine now~!" Kaito announced merrily, planting a chaste kiss on the detective's cheek.

Shinichi flushed bright red and elbowed the other man in the ribs. "I told you not to call me that," he hissed, peeking at Ran shyly through his bangs.

She stared at the two of them, her mind connecting all the pieces. Her suspicions had been completely confirmed. "Shinichi! You never told me you were gay!" she accused, standing up and feigning offense by putting her hands against her hips. "Since when?"

"Not gay," her childhood friend denied. He was so red that he could rival a tomato. "Just…" He looked uncomfortable.

Kaito interjected cheerfully, "I think he means he has eyes only for me. Isn't that right, darling?" He turned Shinichi's head to face him and pecked him right on the nose. Ran smothered a giggle as the detective flailed and stammered something incoherent, which only made Kaito hug him tighter. Years ago she might have gotten jealous or thrown a fit at seeing another person act so lovey-dovey towards the boy she had liked, but having come to terms with the understanding of why their relationship had failed, she felt that it was alright for her to sit back and watch as her childhood friend explored his own interests. Even if he had the obliviousness of a dead log, it seemed Kaito more than made up for that aspect with his abundance of charm.

Shinichi was in good hands. She could see it. The shadows in his face were no longer as prominent, and the bags underneath his eyes had all but disappeared. He didn't look so exhausted anymore. If that was Kaito's doing, she fully supported them. She didn't miss the way Shinichi smiled softly at his boyfriend when he thought she wasn't looking, or how one of Kaito's hands had found their way on top of Shinichi's.

In a way, it made her relieved to know that Shinichi was finally moving on. He tended to get hung up on a lot of things, and they had just weighed him down. She had been similarly burdened by guilt and loneliness and what-ifs; seeing and hearing Shinichi moving past that portion of his life lightened her heart. Perhaps she too would one day find someone like Kaito, who loved so passionately and with his whole heart.

Drinking the last vestiges of tea from her cup, Ran placed it on the table beside the other two. She turned to face the two young men. "That's all I came to talk about, Shinichi. I'm glad we were able to reconcile peacefully," she said, smoothing down her skirt. "Kaito? If you ever deliberately hurt Shinichi, believe me, I will never forgive you." Her eyes turned frigid. The menacing gaze she directed towards Kaito made the magician want to cower in a corner. Even Aoko wasn't this scary!

Shinichi just looked amused. "You should stay on her good side, Kaito," he advised, lifting his hand from beneath Kaito's to pat the other man on the back. "Ran is a karate champion. She can punch through concrete walls with her bare fists." Kaito twitched noticeably.

Ran gleefully added, "My dad's a judo expert. My mom's a lawyer. And I'm best friends with a girl whose boyfriend is considered a world-class martial artist." Kaito's twitching got worse. Ran could see the subtle fear in his eyes and felt she had satisfactorily gotten the message across.

Hurt Shinichi and we will DESTROY you.

Yes, Kaito was going to have to be extra-determined to keep Shinichi happy if he wanted to avoid bringing grievous harm to his person.

After Ran left, with a promise to visit him again soon, Shinichi turned to Kaito with a small smile. "Knowing you, she'll never have to follow through with that threat," he reassured his boyfriend. "You wouldn't hurt me, or anyone, on purpose."

"No," Kaito murmured, cupping the detective's face with his hands. He leaned in, closing his eyes as he pressed their foreheads together. "I would never hurt you if I could help it, Shinichi." He kissed the private investigator on the lips, softly, gently—his actions speaking greater thoughts on his behalf than he could ever voice.

I love you.

Lmfao the original version was only like 7200 words smh.

Rewrote this because there were a lot of errors or omissions in the original that I felt needed to be addressed. Also the riddle sucked. I'm still not good at making them, but I changed it into a limerick this time with some nice wordplay thrown in.

I'm probably not going to do a rewrite of the sequel, even though this 28-page monstrosity now dwarfs it.

Some translations for you:

keibu — inspector (Nakamori-keibu)

tantei — detective

meitantei — great detective

kaitou — phantom thief

MangaFreak15