Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5106638.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Gen, M/M, F/M
  Fandom:
      名探偵コナン_|_Detective_Conan_|_Case_Closed, Magic_Kaito
  Relationship:
      Kudou_Shinichi_|_Edogawa_Conan/Kuroba_Kaito_|_Kaitou_Kid, Hattori_Heiji/
      Kudou_Shinichi_|_Edogawa_Conan_&_Hattori_Heiji, Mouri_Kogoro/Kudou
      Shinichi_|_Edogawa_Conan, Kudou_Shinichi/Edogawa_Conan, Hakuba_Saguru/
      Kudou_Shinichi_|_Edogawa_Conan, Amuro_Tooru_|_Furuya_Rei/Kudou_Shinichi_|
      Edogawa_Conan, Kudou_Shinichi/Mouri_Ran_|_Edogawa_Conan/Mouri_Ran,
      Haibara_Ai/Kudou_Shinichi_|_Edogawa_Conan, Kudou_Yuusaku/Kudou_Shinichi_|
      Edogawa_Conan
  Character:
      Kudou_Shinichi_|_Edogawa_Conan, Kuroba_Kaito_|_Kaitou_Kid, Hattori_Heiji,
      Mouri_Kogorou, Hakuba_Saguru, Mouri_Ran, Megure_Juuzou, Haibara_Ai,
      Shounen_Tantei-dan, Kudou_Yukiko, Kudou_Yuusaku, BASICALLY_THE_ENTIRE
      CAST_WHY_DO_I_BOTHER_TAGGING
  Additional Tags:
      slightly_OOC, Chapter_Warnings_displayed_at_the_beginning_of_every
      drabble, Excessive_Swearing, More_like_a_series_of_oneshots_rather_than
      drabbles_tbh, Sub_Shinichi/Conan, SMUT_AT_CHAPTERS_1_AND_10
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-30 Updated: 2015-12-11 Chapters: 24/? Words: 45420
****** Forgotten Beginnings; Forgetting Where to Lead ******
by LunaDiamond_(orphan_account)
Summary
     A series of 1k+ word drabbles revolving around our favourite size-
     confused detective.
     Along with his, ehem - harem - ehem.
Notes
     Oh my god it's only drabble one and I wrote smut.
     In a janitors closet.
     SHHHH //winks.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Kaito/Shinichi - “No, Kaito we are not doing it in the janitor’s closet.”
*****
Chapter Summary
     Shinichi glares, while walking with a limp and breathing in a whiff
     of his mildewy clothes.
     Kaito, for one, couldn't possible care less.
Chapter Notes
     Before we get started on my would-be shitty drabble series, I'm going
     to put some disclaimers and caution signs up here.
     DISCLAIMER(S): Detective Conan/Case Closed and Magic Kaito do not
     belong to me, but are created and owned by Aoyama Gosho.
     General fic warnings;
     All drabbles are/contain..
     -Unbeta'd and not sketched out beforehand (Translation: I flow with
     wherever the drabble is telling me to flow)
     -Edited minorly
     -At least some M/M, if this makes you uncomfortable, please don't
     proceed.
     And that's all, have a nice trip! -whispers- Souvenirs will be
     appreciated.
Drabble 1.
Kaito/Shinichi - “No, Kaito we are not doing it in the janitor’s closet.”
Chapter warnings: Heavy smut.
---
 
“Shin-chan~!”

Shinichi twitched and stiffened, then increased his walking pace significantly
to avoid a certain hyperactive birds-nest head rapidly advancing.

“Aw, mean.. You ignore me because I said hi?” Kaito was suddenly walking
alongside Shinichi to his right nonchalantly and pouting considerably. Shinichi
veered to his left.

“Kaito, I have my law lecture to attend, can this wait until I come back?”
Shinichi sighed and righted his grip on his grey manila folder as to emphasis
his point, “We’re in university now, we need to be more responsible.”

“But that’s no fun,” The brunette sighed, “My classes are already over for the
day.”

“I still have mine,” The other deadpanned, “Go flip someone else’s shit, the
break is almost over, and I’m almost at the lecture hall-”

Before he could speak anymore, Shinichi found himself being shoved roughly into
the closet next to the hall, hands shoved roughly in front of his mouth,
disabling him of any sudden squeaks or protests.
After a moment or two of heavy footsteps and the occasional “Damn that Kuroba,
I swear I’ll make him suffocate in his own grave-” emitted from who Shinichi
recognised as Hakuba Saguru, one of the people with the unfortunate honor of
being Kaito’s classmate of many classes.
 
“Mmph!” Shinichi let out a small protest not on purpose when Kaito’s slender
fingers ‘accidentally’ brush over the front of his jeans.
It was unfortunate for them that Saguru heard a distinct noise from the
janitor’s cleaning closet just meters from him. Kaito squirmed uncomfortably
and held a desperately self-conscious Shinichi tighter to his chest. Lord, he
could even sense Saguru’s suspicious aura closing in on them from all directi-
er, from in front of them.

Shinichi hoped and prayed silently in his head like a mantra stuck on repeat if
his shitass luck would just spare them this once.

He looked around a put up a rough picture of their position in his head;
Shinichi’s hair tickling the taller’s chin, one of Kaito’s wiry arms securing
Shinichi’s thinner, weaker ones behind his back and Kaito’s crotch occasionally
brushing with the detective’s backside.
Shinichi didn’t know whether crying in despair or delivering a good, strong
kick to the other’s crotch and fleeing would be more appropriate this time.

He decided to remain silent, but stick with option C; either deliver a soccer
ball to Saguru’s nether regions if the poor blonde bastard and his curiosity
decide to speak up about this plight or silently castrate him when he isn’t
looking, although it’ll be about the same, but the castrating would be less
painful if done by Shiho.

Looking to the pros, he could reduce human overpopulation as there’ll be at
least one baby less in the world.
 
Time seemed to still for a few seconds as he could even see his would-be
traumatized friend’s shadow in front of the closet. Cold sweat began pouring,
both his and Kaito’s.

“Ah, Hakuba-kun!”

The shadow stopped.

“Oh, Aoko-kun, good afternoon, are you heading to the library too?”

“Yep, Akako-chan’s already there,” Aoko’s chirpy voice stopped for a second,
and the two still remaining in the wretched cleaning space didn’t dare
breathe, thank the lord for Aoko, “What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing, I’m sorry, I can accompany you there, if you don't mind.”

The detective could feel the former thief sniff in distaste behind him. He was
beginning to get very uncomfortable in this position, emphasis on the ‘very’,
and wriggled a bit in favour for a better personal bubble right now.

He stopped when he felt Kaito’s hard length poking through the latter’s pants.

Nevertheless, his face instantly felt very hot, and he wanted to bury it in his
hands.

Kaito must’ve felt it too, because he leaned in and started to breathe into the
smaller male below him.

“Oi, oi, we’re not out of the woods yet. Let’s wait in here a bit longer,” His
voice was husky, and it sent small, racing tingles down Shinichi’s neck,
sending his breath hitching. He could only nod absentmindedly.
 
They don’t know how long they stood there for, in the mildewy space, but
Shinichi drifted deeper into Kaito’s fragrance, spicy and tingling to his
senses; intoxicating.

Finally, Kaito stirred behind him.

“So, while we’re here, let’s have a bit of fun, yeah?” His grin was shit-
eating, but had hidden undertones of hunger and predatory tinges.

“Huh-”
 
When he blinked, he was on his stomach, leaning against the long mirror stashed
in the closet, pants already being dragged down and Kaito bent over him like a
lion cornering his prey.

“Hey, Kaito, wait-” Shinichi tried to screech, but was interrupted by two of
the magician’s fingers making their way into his asshole and sliding in way too
quickly.

Damn, Shinichi wanted to slap Kaito for his impulsiveness, but his hands were
currently, uh, incapable and tied behind his back (Shinichi figured a long time
ago it was pointless to ask).

“Dammit, KID, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shinichi snarled,
although he could admit that came out a little more harshly than he would have
liked it to be.

Kaito’s gaze turned from red-hot mischief to a deep, dark scowl.

“That’s not me anymore, remember? He died years ago, right, Conan-chan?” He
whispered, nicking at the gasping brunette’s neck, and straining the
pronounciation on the old nickname.

And in a large, swift motion, Kaito was buried inside Shinichi, long, hard and
quivering with anticipation.

“Hng!” Shinichi gasped, instantly panting for breath, Kaito started directly
with a fast, rough pace, and tilted the former’s chin to that misty sapphire
eyes were looking into the mirror they were leaning on. There was enough light
seeping through the cracks and small ventilation slots for Shinichi to fully
comprehend himself taking in the hard cock ravaging his insides, and spared
enough movement to let himself bite onto his azure jacket, trying to diminish
the weak and mewling moans coming from his throat.

“Dammit, you don’t know how much I missed you, with your stupid cases and
lecture shit, it’s driving me crazy,” Kaito hissed, with his slender fingers
tracing around Shinichi’s stomach in randomised patterns.

 My knees would give out soon, he thought hazily, since they were feeling like
jelly now. Shinichi’s back arched and twitched from a beastly ram into his
prostate, a weak scream spilling from him throat.

Kaito stopped with a jolt, stiffening. There were voices shuffling around
outside, in the lounge. Shinichi panted for breath, his insides still
occasionally spasming and tightening around Kaito’s cock buried deep inside his
ass, and turned his head shakily in question.
Low murmurs filed in from outside.

“Damn, are there still students around?” The messy-haired gritted, “Shit, just
don’t try to make any noise, Shin-chan.”

“Ah, hah..” Shinichi moaned as Kaito began to move inside him again, though
more slowly and less of a pounding in him like minutes ago.

It was then that he’d snuck a glance at the mirror in front of him. His face
was flushed heavily, with Kaito’s hands lifting him up and thrusting with some
more force now, seemingly wanted him to adjust to the speed. He had a strand of
saliva dripping down him chin, and his lips were parted slightly.

He was on his toes, Kaito thrusting and taking dominance over him completely,
rocking into him, while Shinichi gripped the sides of the mirror for dear life.

The only sounds in the cabinet were Kaito’s harsh pants for air, and Shinichi’s
moans and gasps increased with Kaito’s pace.

It was then that Kaito decided to flip Shinichi with his back against the
mirror, ramming and pounding in, then pulling out until the tip remained, then
pushed all of Shinichi’s buttons and sent his toes curling and arms gripping
more tightly onto the mirror behind him. He wasn’t even touching the ground
now, with his feet lifted onto the magicians bent arms. Shinichi felt like he
was slowly going crazy, twitching and fully aware that his pants were now
crumpled into a heap on the floor.

“You’re mine, Shinichi, mine, mine,” Kaito whispered against his ear before
crashing against the other’s soft lips, all the while still sinking into
Shinichi who writhed with white-hot pleasure and, with the helping force of
gravity, arched his back to land himself balls-deep.

They didn’t even realise their own climax, with an explosiveness of pleasure
until Kaito hissed and released his liquids into Shinichi, who could just
managed a weak and shuddery moan, before both of them slid downwards and
collapsed on the floor.

The heat was stifling, with the added smell of sex, and the tangle of limbs in
the tight space.

Kaito sat back onto a rack of disinfectants and stared at Shinichi, whose half-
lidded eyes were cloudy and blinking unsteadily.
Wandering down his rumpled clothes, to his trembling legs and a delicate pink
entrance with thick strands of white leaking out, and body racked heavily with
huffs and pants.

“You.. you fucking sadist,” He still managed to grit out, before closing his
eyes completely.

“You were enjoying it,” Kaito pointed out.

“Oh my god is that the janitor I hear?” Shinichi gasped.

Kaito’s head whipped around at an ungodly speed, landing him with an unholy
crick in the neck and the death of a large number of brain cells.

“I’m joking,” Was the amused detective’s only reply.

Kaito leant his head back in relief, before scrambling around for the long-lost
pants only to freeze at that one question he didn’t want to hear.
 
“So, Kaito, how do we get ourselves out of the shithole without anyone noticing
since all the classes are pretty much finished now and everyone's free to
wander around.”
***** Heiji/Shinichi – “Oh hey another dead body woohoo.” *****
Chapter Summary
     Heiji absolutely swears that they were serial killers in their past
     lives.
Drabble 2.
Heiji/Shinichi – “Oh hey another dead body woohoo.”
Chapter warnings: Mild death.
 ---
 
Shinichi always found Osaka fascinating, even if he doesn’t necessarily admit
it.

Heiji too, like he’s the personification of the place, bright and carefree, in
contrary to the busy, sometimes suffocating atmosphere of Tokyo and Shinichi,
tense and busy.

Heiji, the guy who forced himself into Shinichi’s life and filled the space as
his ‘best friend’ and became a necessity in his life, giving Shinichi a
valuable output for all his dusty secrets and little worries.

“So my pop went up to ta guy and flipped him over the railin’, where he fell
into the trap and – hey, ya listening, Kudou?”

Shinichi snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to the tanned boy smiling
awkwardly, “Oh, uh, hi.”

“Snap outta it, you’ve been daydreaming a lot these days,” Heiji teased,
flicking Shinichi’s forehead.

“Ow!”
 
A scream they were all too familiar with.
 
“He fell from the building!”
“Help, the guy’s dead!”
“Someone call the police! Eek!”
 
The two thundered to the source of the screams and panic and skidded to a halt.
An old man, slightly wrinkled and face locked in horror, was left to rot on the
pavement, with a deep gash on his head.
Heiji grumbled something about missing the next train to Tokyo with no small
amount of irritation as he pulled out his phone and punched in Otaki’s number
with his eyes closed, while Shinichi instinctively raced over to the corpse and
began shooing off bystanders.

It wasn’t even a feat anymore.
 
-.-.-
 
“Yeah, yeah, it’s right in front of ta bullet train station, on the west side,
no, oh, okay, thanks, Otaki-han.” Heiji hung up the cell phone.

“I take it we’ll start first."

“Yep,” Heiji’s eyes shined, and Shinichi turned his head away, face flushing,
“We’re workin’ together on a case again, how great is that?”

“Joy.”
 
-.-.-
 
“The victim this time is Hisayo Mamayo, 61 years old, clockmaker. Cause of
death; strangulation with a thin wire, maybe a fishing one, and died aroun’
1pm. The suspects are all gathered over there fer questioning with some of the
other officers. Any leads so far, you lot?” Otaki lifted his head to stare at
the two walking around, sometimes ducking down to pick something up with a
handkerchief, and other times looking at towards the roof where the victim
dropped from.
 
Silence enshrouded them for a few seconds, only interrupted by forensics
officers muttering in the background, yet a multitude of thoughts and theories
could almost be seen in the air, with how dense it was.
 
The Osakan of the two stood up and faced the officer.
“Oi, Otaki-han, can we take a look on ta roof up there?”
 
-.-.-
 
“Which is why, Hanami-san..” Shinichi looked to the corpse grievingly.

“Yer the only one who coulda done it!” Heiji had an absolutely serious scowl
etched onto his face.

“If the officers check your hoodie string, there should be a thin, fishing wire
wrapped around it. Check it into the forensics for luminol tests, and it’ll
have the solid evidence to close this homicide case here.”
 
The audience from the sidelines murmured in astonishment and surprise, perhaps
some agreement too.
 
"..I-I didn't mean to.."
 
-.-.-

 
“Geez, we just had to run inta one of those again, huh?” Heiji grumbled,
leaning his head into his arms behind his back, “We missed two trains in the
time we spent.”

Shinichi made a noise of agreement from the back of his throat, staring down at
his feet as they made their way down the platform to find an available seat to
sit in for the time being.
 
They sat in comfortable silence for a while before the train came to a halt
before them. Shinichi had caught the little subtle glances Heiji sent his way
before he righted himself. It was kind of cute actually, not that he’d ever
admit it or his dignity may as well be non-existent.
 
The train was crowded, to say the least, with the holidays looming close,
people had the urge to just grab their offspring and scram out and away from
their daily lives. The chatter was almost deafening to Shinichi’s sensitive
ears, although it didn’t seem like Heiji minded it in the least. Shinichi could
distinctly hear the other humming out a small section of a popular song, with
no doubt that he’d learnt from Kazuha.

Realizing that he’s be soon noticed is he kept staring at the way Heiji’s lips
moved, and how his green eyes sparkled with the light from the interior of the
transport, Shinichi hurriedly shoved his head to admire the fluently passing
scenery.
 
Hours passed, and Shinichi could feel a migraine forming in his head. The
clamour was too loud for him, and standing up for what felt like eternity on
end was enough to make him dizzy, along with the weak immune system he
developed from his time as Conan.
He had to recite the entirety of Sign of Four into the duration of the trip,
and would proceed onto little trivia about blood types, poisons (most notably
APTX4869) and the locations of various convenience stores he encountered during
his Osaka visit.
 
Suddenly his already tired vision began to swirl, and he collapsed and slid
down one of the transparent doors.

“Oi, Kudou! Ya alright there?”

“Shit, did I get a cold again,” Shinichi hissed, before realizing how close
their faces were to each other and felt a blush creep up.

“Oh, again? Ya really haven’t – mmph!”
 
Oh wow his lips are so smooth, was the first thought that traitorously entered
his mind and Heiji collapsed on top of him, mashing their tongues together and
tasting his teeth. He tasted like spicy cinnamon, with autumn undertones and
bold mint. God bless whichever bastard bumped into him.
 
In the WC, someone screamed.
 
-.-.-

Ran glanced back and forth between the two teens, both sporting a very visible
blush. Her eyes glinted knowingly, and she gave a small, but mischievous smirk,
and turned to lead the currently awkwardly squeamish boys to the station exit.
 
Haibara's eyes just screamed 'Don't mind me I'm just scheming right now'.

Shinichi’s eyes landed on the tea-blonde girl next to her, shooting Haibara his
best ‘I am a death god with 729 ways to skewer a bastard in front of the police
without them knowing so you may as well drop dead now’.

But as much as Shinichi hated to admit it, his powers were wasted on that
witch.

“I see all, Kudou-kun, I see all,” She cackled.

“If you actually do, you may as well back down now considering your death will
be slow and painful and your soul will be incinerated personally by me.”

“My, my, what a special way for me to kick the bucket. I would expect simply
being stabbed or hanged with the way people die around you.”

“I have corpse-attracting powers and I’m not afraid to use them.”
 
Agasa stood to the side, a good ten meters away from the murderous intent
emitted to his right.
 
“Ehem, you two. Shinichi, Haibara-chan’s only six, and you’re traumatizing
her,” Ran cocked her head back, and the pair immediately straightened, faced
with her ‘you’re gonna taste my fist’ look.
 
Heiji looked cautiously towards the bulky professor.
“Uh, how long should I stay away from neechan for?”

“Until you’re back in Osaka, Hattori-kun. Ran-kun can punt a hole in your face
if you ask for it.
She doesn’t need a weapon. She is a weapon.”

Heiji smiled nervously.
“H-haha..”
 
-.-.-
 
“So, uh, Kudou, what do ya say about dinner at Columbo tonight, since Neechan’s
going over ta her blonde friend’s place, just the two of us?” Heiji slung a
possessive arm over Shinichi’s back, earning a squeak in return.

“Uh..”

“We can try ta Tokyo udon here!” The tanned teen waved his arms around for
emphesis, all the while holding the shit-eating grin and a slight blush.

Shinichi could only make a noise of agreement, face flushing red and turned
downwards.

“Alright then, do ya know any great udon shops without potential chances of a
guy dyin?”

“You.. you make it sound like I murder the people-”
 
“Call the police! She’s fucking dead!” A man dresses in a fancy business suit
stumbled backwards and screamed pointing shakily upwards.

And our misfortune rears its ugly head yet again, Shinichi sighs internally as
he looks directly upwards very, very slowly.
 
A woman in her sleepwear was hanging from her neck from an apartment window
high above, with her face ghostly white, locked in terror, and swaying gently
in the breeze.
 
“Well, at least she isn’t falling just yet.”
 
The rope audibly snaps and the body tumbles down.
 
“Forget what I said.”
 
-.-.-
 
Successfully dodging the fallen corpse, Shinichi grimaced and whipped out his
cell phone, calling Inspector Megure on speed dial.
 
Heiji leant over to give a quick peck on the paler boy’s cheek as soon as he
ended the call before giving his all-time cocky grin. Shinichi wanted to curl
up and die of embarrassment, blushing a deep red.
 
“While ya at it, ya might want to call the local exorcist as well, so no one
will fall over on our dinner date.”
***** Kogoro/Conan – “Waiiit, so where did you get that hugeass soccer ball
from again?” *****
Chapter Summary
     Kogoro reflects.
Chapter Notes
     Ughh the giant soccer ball on the lake scene was honestly one of my
     favourite scenes in Movie 19.
     Movie 19 in general, actually, because it's just CANON KAISHIN
     OVERLOAD UGHH
Drabble 3.
Kogoro/Conan – “Waiiit, so where did you get that hugeass soccer ball from
again?”
Chapter warnings: Spoilers for Movie 19; The Hellfire Sunflowers.
---
 
Sometimes, when he isn’t acting scandalously or drinking in unholy amounts,
Kogoro was just a normal human being with feelings and a heart.

There are even times where he sits nonchalantly behind his desk when Ran’s at
school, oh and the brat too, and huffs silently, knowing his reputation and
fame (He doesn’t know where it came from or if he deserved it) can’t help him
save something dear, of course he’ll always cross the bridge when he comes to
it.
 
He has his very own mask too which he pulls on every so often.
 
He can’t remember when this all even started, but given time and opportunities,
sometimes lies can gradually become the truth.
 
And when the door creaked open, with a chirpy “I’m home!”, the older man sighs
and picks up another beer, and pretends, once again, to not give a shit.

But even so, Conan has always fascinated him, ever since the day when he was
dumped on the doorstep without prior notice, like some little puppy carelessly
given away.
 
Kogoro’s aware of the ‘brat’s’ façade, but he sees no point in implying
anything, so he just rolls along with it, after all, he notices the too-mature
mind buried deep in the suffocating sapphire eyes. Notices the way he glances
around wildly at certain moments, cold sweat forming, afraid of an unknown
presence.
 
This little kid, who runs around a crime scene like it’s his very own little
playground, Kogoro muses, isn’t even deterred by the rotting stench of death,
and, better yet, it lingers especially around him, like a death god’s aura.
It’s strange, but comforting to see that he’s not the only one with a mask.
 
Then that day, when only the wet Sunflower painting floated up on the lonely
lake surface and not Conan, it hits him like a thunderbolt.

The brat’s become such a huge part of his life that without him, it almost
feels like he’s lost a family member.
 
For a few, deathly silent moments, no one moves, no one dares breathe, until a
few small bubbles rise up to the surface, and Kogoro’s eyes widen. Ran’s breath
next to him hitches.

An eerily familiar black and white starts rising from the surface, slowly yet
promising.

And with that, up came the funny little cowlick.

Ran lept forward, “C-Conan-kun..!”
 
The brat had the nerve to turn around to wave awkwardly, unscathed.
 
Damn, if that didn’t knock the last straw over by a mile and a half, Kogoro
didn’t know what else did.

Which is why he full-one dove into the lake, not giving a shit about his
clothes, paddled over to the child, and lifted him up with joy and relief
seeping into his aged face. The brat was safe, and Kogoro was going to keep a
decent eye on him from now, come meteorite or burning sunflowers.
 
-.-.-
 
They sat on the rental van on the bumpy road.

No one said anything (Not even Sonoko), or more like they were exhausted.

The car occasionally bumped into potholes, but otherwise, only the engine
stirred.
Kogoro glanced sparingly into the driver mirror and smiled.

Conan was curled up into his jacket and snoring lightly. The glasses slipped
halfway off his face.

He was a tiny enigma, sitting right there, with layers and layers of secret,
and lies, far more than anyone can imagine.
That was Yuusaku’s son for you.
 
But, there was also something Kogoro couldn’t make heads or tails of, as he
chews on his burning cigarette.
 
Where do all these cursed soccer balls appear from?
***** Shinichi/Conan – “They say, with great power comes with great electricity
bill, and in your case, nothing can be more true.” *****
Chapter Summary
     Shinichi curses the power companies. And their bills.
Chapter Notes
     Everyone needs some Shinichi/Conan selfcest in their lives 8D
Drabble 4.
Shinichi/Conan – “They say, with great power comes with great electricity bill,
and in your case, nothing can be more true.”
Chapter warnings: Selfcest, underage.
---
 
“Shinichi, what did I say about forgetting to turn off the lights before
running off to the police station?”

“Sorry, sorry, Conan, Megure-keibu gathered together some hard evidence, but
couldn’t track down the main suspect, forgive me?”
 
A snort, “No can do. Last month’s electricity bill exploded through the roof.
You got to cut down this month and fix that habit of yours. Just because you
ran off on your hugeass case last year doesn’t mean I cut you slack. You didn’t
even call that often.”
 
“Sorry again,” Shinichi exasperatedly huffed, but inwardly chuckled at the 13
year old boy standing in front of him’s ‘You’re 23 for the sake of all that is
holy’ glare.

“I thought you were supposed to be my caretaker, Shinichi. But look, even I do
all the cooking,” The boy had long dropped the honorifics ever since they were
familiar and started to live together.

Conan slid off his blue school bag, and set down his textbooks, but a reddish-
brown cover immediately caught the older detective’s eyes.

“Hey, Conan, did you kidnap the english Sign of Four to read at school again?”
He raised an eyebrow in question.

The middle-school aged boy in question blushed, “What? We were just going over
revision today for a quiz, ah, shit,” He glanced at his dart-watch, eyes wide,
“Mitsuhiko said he’s be here in a few minutes to return my notes,” and
scampered up the stairs to his room, leaving the slam of a door in his wake.
 
“Language, Conan!” Shinichi hollered after him.
 
-.-.-
 
“Conan, what do we have for dinner today, I’m, er, hungry?” It wasn’t so much a
question as it was a whimper.

“I was waiting for you to ask,” The bespectacled boy sighed and picked up his
bookmark, “We’re out of groceries, since, you, Kudou Shinichi, forgot to buy
the groceries on Tuesday,” Conan positively seethed.
 
Shinichi almost yelped.
 
Conan stood up, “I’ll call Ran-neechan to see if we can get some dinner at the
ramen place or something like that.”
 
Without further warning, the lights around the pair flickered, and went out
with a small buzz.
 
Shinichi could even sense his lover’s aura of ‘Shit’s hitting the fan if anyone
dares breathe in my presence’ in the pitch blackness and silence.
 
-.-.-
 
“Ah, what happened to you two?”

“Eh?”

“Shinichi, you look like you just took a trip to hell and back,” Ran jogged
over to her best friend and looked him up and down, “Your face is white and
you’re shaking.”

“Depends on the fact of whether or not hell comes in the shape of a
doppelganger ten years younger than you,” He laughed awkwardly, sparing small
glances towards Conan, who was grumbling and slightly pouty in return.
Shinichi turned towards his best friend and sighed.

“Shinichi! You shouldn’t insult Conan-kun!” Ran huffed, placing her hands on
her hips. Shinichi internally snorted. Conan was cute when he wanted to be, but
when he decided that the world needed ending, it was like hell freezing over.
 
But Ran didn’t need to know that, after all, she didn’t even know how far in
their relationship already was.
 
“Let’s get inside the damn store already, it’s freezing right now.” Conan blew
into him hands beside them.
 
-.-.-
 
“Shinichi?”

“Yeah, Conan?” Shinichi reared his head slightly. He could no longer feel the
suffocating wrath around Conan on their current way home. That was a start, at
least.

“I’m sorry.”
It was such a quiet prase that Shinichi strained to hear it.

“For what?” Shinichi frowned. Conan was never quick at apologising.

He received a sigh as a response.
“It’s been a crappy day for me. One of my teachers was strangled, and he was
really nice too. Honestly, Death revolves around us all the time, Shinichi.”

“Oh, that’s.. unfortunate. I’m sorry too.”

“Huh? Why’re you-“

Conan was cut off mid-sentence with a quick kiss on the forehead and a
signature Detective of the East grin.

“Oh, Conan-chan, in case you haven’t noticed, we walked past our mansion and
this is the professer’s house,” Shinichi must be a total bastard to enjoy the
blank, yet confused face Conan had at that moment, but he didn’t give a crap or
two.
 
Then, a few minutes later Conan positively blanched. He pointed furiously
behind Shinichi towards one of the windows from the lounge room.
A warm, slightly flickering light seeped through the windows, and poured into
the darkness.
 
Shinichi twitched.
 
“U-uh, I forgot to flip the switch before we went out?”
 
“Y-you!” Conan was heaving heavily now, like a wild beast resisting the urge to
kill.

“Ah shit, I’ll take this as a sign to run.”
And that was the last thing Shinichi remembered stuttering before his neck felt
a prickling sensation and he slumped to the ground with an unsteady and highly
intelligent “Huh?”
 
Conan loomed over him like a ghost.
 
“When we get home, I am handcuffing you to the bed and you can stay there for
the day. In the dark.”
***** Saguru/Shinichi & Heiji/Shinichi - "I’m never looking at the media the
same away again." *****
Chapter Summary
     Saguru decides that there should be a law against the level of sexual
     harassment that KID inflicts on them.
     Heiji agrees.
Chapter Notes
     This actually turned out longer than I thought it would be.
     Or maybe my ideas are just too simplistic in my head.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Drabble 5.
Saguru/Shinichi & Heiji/Shinichi - "I’m never looking at the media the same
away again."
Chapter warnings: Incredibly dense Shinichi //winks. Also some KaiShin if you
squint.
---
Saguru grimaced as he stood in front of the large headquarters of Tokyo 7
Broadcasting. He snapped open his pocketwatch, staring at the remaining half an
hour left. The blonde let out a sigh he didn't realise he was holding, and
strode into the building's grand (and very costly, he noted absently) entrance.
 
He first noticed a very distinctive cowlick among the almost empty receptionist
area. Saguru lit up almost immediately, since the Eastern detective was always
good company, and admittedly good looking too, with the long aurburn lashes and
sharp, yet full cheekbones with the nose that's just raised a little higher
than-

Saguru absentmindedly pinched himself on the thigh (a habit he had developed
during his years knowing the sapphire-eyed male), hissing in return.

He didn't realise that he'd been standing there for whole minutes before the
detective at the other side of the room stood up and waved a bit, cracking a
small, delicate smile.

Saguru felt his own heart crack.

"Ah, Hakuba-kun, how are you?"

"I-I'm fine, Kudou-kun, I assume you're here for the interview too?"

"Oh, yeah, Hattori should be here in a bit and we'll go in then," Shinichi
gestured his hands slightly and sat reluctantly down on his plastic, grey (but
somehow still manages to look costly) chair, "Wow, and this, sir, is how
elderlys all around the world receive stiff tailbones on a daily basis, I
swear."

Saguru slipped out a small smile of his own. The younger detective's snarky
comments laced with amusement were always endearing to him, before sitting down
himself and the realization of the other detective's snark settled in.

"I agree."

-.-.-

"I’ll kill that bastard Hattori," Shinichi mumbled under his breath, seemingly
ready to flip his shit.

Saguru hummed disdainfully in response. The tan idiot must've caught the wrong
train, he mused to himself.

"Hakuba-kun, just wait here for a second, Hattori says he's right outside,"
Shinichi reassures him, looking up from his phone, which beeped seconds ago,
signalling a message, finally giving up on the waiting game. He's standing up
and pacing towards the sliding doors before Saguru even turns his head.

He leans back into his chair and sighs, crossing his arms and legs, enjoying
the peace and tranquillity while it was still there.

Shinichi sneezed in the entranceway.

Not a moment later a woman shrieked in hysterics, "He's dead! Oh my fucking
god!"

Hakuba brought his hands to his face and resisted the urge to sob.

-.-.-

"Yo, Hakuba!"

Saguru could feel the special vein he always reserved for Hattori's irkyness
pop up on his temples.

"You're late," Was always the inevitable reply.

Hattori leant forward, making the 'speak louder' gesture with a huff.

"Eh, speak up, I can't hear ya, since I don't understand assholenese."

"Oh, says the dear sir which uses a dialect instead of a language," Saguru rose
from his seat rather crookedly.

"Hattori, Hakuba-kun, sit down."

The duo in question froze and turned to see a very disgruntled Shinichi
crossing his arms and glaring blue lasers at the two.
Nevertheless, they swallowed audibly and sat down. Shinichi didn't look like he
was in the mood for any shit whatsoever.

"Hattori, no one has time for your crap right now, and Hakuba-san, I never
would have thought you, of all people would be so gung-ho about something like
this,” Shinichi pinched the bridge of his nose, “Since we’re all here, we might
as well tell the receptionist that we don’t need to postphone the interview
for, say, next week.”

“Oi, oi, ya make it sound like I’m responsible for all the delays!” Heiji waved
his hands around for emphesis which, sadly, went ignored judging from the
pointed looks from his two companions.

One of the forensics lab officers waved to Heiji from outside of the building,
as if to severely contradict his point. Heiji let out a huff.
 
“Case in point.”
 
-.-.-
 
“Come in, come in, you lot,” A woman in around her 40’s opened the door for the
three teens, gesturing them into the room and towards a set of sofas.

“Take a seat, boys, don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll just ask a few questions and
you can go your own ways,” She waved her hand dismissively, silver bangles
jangling.

“Uh, alright,” Saguru glanced around slightly.

“Let’s get going then boys, I know you don’t have all the time in the world. I
certainly don’t,” She chuckled a bit, “I’d prefer it if you answered honestly,
so how do you describe your careers as a detective?”
 
Shinichi responded first, “Since you asked for honesty, I’d say painful, in the
metaphorical and non-metaphorical ways. Me and Hattori are pretty much bullet-
prone, although him more than me.”

Heiji snorted, “Hakuba, you still have ways to go, you haven’t even gotten shot
yet to join the club.”

Saguru scowled, “Excuse me?”
 
The lady cleared her throat, then tapped her clipboard and looked upwards.
Something about her eyes made Saguru shift uncomfortably in his seat, but he
dismissed it with a mental wave of a hand.
“So, boys, which areas of crime do you prefer to exceed in?” Her eyes glinted.

“For me an’ Kudou, death is sorta recruited as our unofficial stalker, so
that’s pretty straightforward, although the guy here also likes goin’ after
some flamboyant thief to waste time when he has nothing to do,” Heiji slung an
arm over Shinichi shoulders, much to Saguru’s displeasure.

“My speciality is thieves, of course, more specifically, Kaitou KID.”

The lady made a noise of acceptance, and for a few moments, only a sound of the
scrape of a pencil could be heard in the room.
“What inspired you lot to take up this dangerous profession?”

“Partially my father, Kudou Yuusaku, who was originally a private investigator,
and also because of my idol, Holmes.”

“My pop’s a police officer, so it’s natural for me ta get interested in his
work.”

“My situation’s quite similar to Hattori-kun’s, though with the addition of
Holmes as well, a shared idol of mine and Kudou-kun's.”
 
Silence washed over the room for a few comfortable minutes.
 
“So, Kudou-kun, I heard some little gossip that Mouri-san, your childhood
friend has some feelings for you. What are your opinions for this matter or are
you even remotely aware of the fact?” She looked up.
 
“…She what?”
 
Saguru suddenly found his blood running cold, and glanced over to see the
tanned Osakan twitch, before clearing his voice.
“Oi, K-Kudou, yeah, how do you feel about nee-chan?”

“Ran? Er, we’ve been friends for a long time, but she’s pretty much my
unofficial sister,” Shinichi blinked owlishly, “What do you mean ‘like’?”
 
Oh boy if that wasn’t just the densest thing Saguru has heard he doesn’t even
know anymore.
“Oi, oi..” Heiji laughed, somewhere between astonishment and exasperation. Wait
a second, was that relief Saguru hears?
 
“Alright then, Kudou-kun, what are your opinions on the other two you’re taking
this interview with, since they’re working in the same line of profession as
you, but maybe in slightly different sections.” The interviewer smiled, pearly
whites sparkling almost unnaturally.
 
“Er, I respect them both well, and they do have some great aspects in their
deduction methods which I could actually use myself,” He scratched at his cheek
a bit, and as miffed at the fact as Saguru was, he couldn’t help but feel his
face tinge up.

“They’re also great friends of mine, and I can depend on them when I’m in
trouble. Hattori here also drags me by the ear to all the udon and okonomiyaki
shops in Osaka, and Hakuba-kun here shares our passion with Sherlock Holmes.”

Hattori spoke up, grinning, “Hey, I’ve got tons more if ya want to go try ‘em!”
 
The woman spoke up with some – familiar? – mischief.
“You’ve mellowed out doing the past few years, yeah? It sounds like you’re very
fond of them, hm?” She flashed a smirk, and Saguru felt a shiver going down his
spine, with the indigo eyes of the middle-aged woman flashing.

“Hakuba-san, Hattori-han, is something the matter? You’re both very red, and
that’s a pretty great feat in his case,” She gestured towards Heiji.

Saguru was amazed himself at how he managed to keep calm on the exterior in
this situation. Internally, he was screaming. This reporter, and these
honorifics, oh god, oh godohgod.
Shinichi blinked a few times, then leaned in towards Saguru, who was ramming
his head mentally into a brick wall by then.
 
And Kudou Shinichi, who had even his own giant fanbase and worshippers and
these long, dark eyelashes and the funny little cowlick pushed up his fringe
and pressed his forehead against Saguru’s.
 
Holy shit he's so perfect at this angle.

Saguru was pretty much mentally disabled by then.

Heiji made a strange squeaking noise near them, but the blonde almost didn’t
hear it in favour of the slightly blushing, younger detective moving away and
pressing a hand on his own forehead.

“K-Kudou..! What are ya doing?”

“You do have some kind of fever, Hakuba-kun. Maybe you should go home and rest
after this.” He furrowed his dark eyebrows together slightly. Saguru pictured
an image of his cowlicked detective feeding him, before mentally giving himself
a harsh slap.

Saguru heaved some deep breaths and actually managed a, “I’m fine, Kudou-kun,
but, er, the atmosphere in here is a little stifling of sorts, isn’t it?” He
looked over to the side, and started to find the potted plant near the workdesk
incredibly interesting.

“H-hey, Kudou! I’m sorta burning up ‘ere too, ya know!”

“Huh, Hattori too? Is there some kind of summer flu going around?” Shinichi
turned around, and raised an eyebrow then went to lean close to the tanned teen
to place a hand on his forehead. Saguru took this chance to pretend this
situation was all a dream and looked to the reporter.
 
Wait, oh shit, oh shit, isn’t that the fucking Kid grin?
 
The reporter, without much warning, ‘accidentally’ veered to her right and
shoved Hattori forward and-
 
Saguru is – for a lack of a better word – horrified.
 
“Mmph?!”

“W-woah, woah hey, hey, hey?” Hattori stuttered, face a rare shade of cherry,
and pulled away as quickly as he leaned in.

Shinichi blushed as well, though not as visibly, with his slender fingers
covering half his face. His sapphire eyes flickered over to Saguru’s gaping
expression, before said redness of the face only increased three-fold.
 
When Saguru finally gathered his wits and turned seethingly towards the
‘reporter’, he turned only to find an empty space where she once sat.

“That.. That, ughh!” The European detective suddenly had the urge to rip all
his hair out.

“There’s a note there..” Shinichi pointed meekly towards the cushion, and, lo
and behold, a white card sat daintily propped on the cushion with two little,
strange packages beside it.
Heiji picked up the card reluctantly, as if he was touching something vile and
began to read it aloud.
“Dearest tantei-san and tantei-han,” Heiji’s expression turned into one of ‘are
you fucking kidding me.’, “I have noticed some ‘suggestive’ hints towards my
little darling meitantei-kun. So I went ahead and did you all a favour this
time around.”

Heiji looked like he wanted to massacre the poor piece of cardboard.

“Oh, and about the little packages, you lot should keep them handy, in case you
do find a spare room. Don’t worry, they’re strawberry flavoured, in case
meitantei-kun doesn't like the taste of apple, which I'll be keeping for
myself.
 
Yours truly,
Kaitou KID.”
 
“…”
 
“…”
 
“Cause of death; violent mauling, decapitation and mutilation of various limbs,
including reproductive organs leading to bleeding to death."
 
"If Kaitou Kid's murder won't make it ta the front pages tomorrow, I dunno what
will."
Chapter End Notes
     If you don't understand the little package bit, then don't WORRY,
     YOU'RE STILL PURE (If you skipped Drabble 1.)
***** Kaito/Shinichi – “You just had to murder someone at a fish festival.”
*****
Chapter Summary
     Because, who notices the rotting human corpse odour in the midst of a
     thousand already-rotting fish corpses..?
     Detectives, Kaito grumbles, that's who.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Drabble 6.
Kaito/Shinichi – “You just had to murder someone at a fish festival.”
Chapter warnings: Gore.
---
Kaito knew he had always had a weak point for his sapphire-eyed detective.

It started with the heists, with the adrenaline and the excitement waiting for
him, waiting just for his movements to be anticipated and cut off.
Even as little Conan, 'Tantei-kun' never ceased to amaze him. Of course at the
beginning the thief was extremely off-put by the fact that just a thoroughly
intelligent six year old could outsmart him.

But later on, he would be lying if he said that the identity confession to
'Kudou Shinichi' surprised him as much as the other’s reactions, take Mouri-
chan for example, because there's always been this buzzing little sixth sense
niggling at the edges of his mind.

And of course sometime Meitantei-kun would have to make an appearance someday,
ever since the fall of the Black Organisation, deadly and a fight brushing
death at every corner. Kaito knew, because he was there, the unknown waiting at
every corner.

He just didn't think it would be now.
-.-.-
It was around noon, chatter from various crowds buzzing in his ears, Aoko
pulling him along as he reluctantly trudged along, purposely scraping his
already-scuffed shoes along the pavement. The breeze tasted salty on his lips.

And there they were, huge, lifeless eyes bulging out towards him, all around
him, in various colourations and sizes. They sent shudders down Kaito's spine.
The smell was putrid and overwhelming to his poor nose. He glanced around,
paranoid and shuddering.
All that time, Hakuba kept sending little amused glanced his way, but carried
along nonetheless, which Kaito was truly thankful for.

Aoko, on the other hand, seemed hellbent to send Kaito twitching and madly
rocketing to the nearest psychological ward, hiding under her pretty excuse of
"Helping you to get over your fears, BaKaito."

"Kaito, stop being an immobilised sea cucumber and enjoy the view while you
can. The Beikan Fish Festival is only held once every five years, and you're
damn lucky that you get to attend at all," Aoko huffed, now using both hands to
tow a queasy-looking magician along.

"His phobia is a force to be reckoned with," The half-Brit alongside then mused
in amusement.

Kaito didn't dare comment, and settled for seething instead.
Maybe Winnie the Pooh would look good on Hakuba, His chaotic mind began to
turn again-
 
A scream pieced the air like an arrow.

"Holy shit he's dead!"

Hakuba whipped around immediately and ran towards the source of distress. A
poor guy laid, slumped and pale and belly-up for all to admire his stomach and
various other digestive organs peeking through ripped flesh with a cook's knife
on the ground next to the stiff's head.

Speaking of digestive organs, Kaito felt like his were going for a marathon
inside him. Looking over, Aoko seemed worse off than he was, hands still
clutching Kaito's and trembling slightly, eyes fixated on the corpse.

Hakuba looked no better, but at least more used to the blood and gore and
stench than the two were.
"Eleven seconds on the dot since the point of discovery," Hakuba grimaced,
standing up rather stiffly, "Although I estimate roughly less than an hour
before death."
 
"Excuse me, coming through, please stand back and don't touch anything within
ten meters from the scene."
 
The crowd parted to show a familiar cowlick and deep ocean eyes, which
flickered over the area with concern and urgency, tinged slightly with distaste
and grief.
Kaito took a step back. The person took no notice of him, however, as the eyes
scanned the area for abnormalities and anything out of place. With Kaito
staring dumbfounded for the length of time he did, he might as well etched
Kudou Shinichi's face well into his mind.
 
Hakuba stood up slowly, "Kudou-san, it's a fancy meeting you here."

Shinichi's face slowly turned, then brightened slightly, "Ah, Hakuba-kun, how
are you?"

"Well enough not to back away from this grotesque scene, thank you," The blonde
chuckled back in response, but was slightly deprived of humour.

"Ah, Kudou-kun, did something happen-" Inspector Megure pushed hastily through
the crowd to stop and grimace stiffly at the scene.

"Exactly how it looks, I'd say the culprit's experienced with surgery
procedures, like a surgeon, or a butcher," Hakuba stated.

"Ah, Hakuba-kun, you're here too.." Megure looked up, but from the look on his
face, he was clearly think something along the lines of 'Holy shit already two
corpse magnets here I hope another one won' t show up.'

"Woah, woah, if there' s a murder here in a damn fish festival then is Kudou
'ere as well?"

As if on cue, Hattori fucking Heiji decided to stick his head around the
corner.
A vein visibly popped up on Hakuba' s forehead. Shinichi pinched the bridge of
his nose in heavy exasperation.
 
-.-.-
 
"Hm, this guy ain't got no identification."

"Ah, it's a pen with a name engraving, here, Kudou-kun, do you mind taking a
look?"

"Uh, Fujitake Tetsuya, and this pen's from a small engraving store near this
area."

"Hey, then let's go, ta guy that works there might know somethin'!"

"Hattori, you're going the wrong way."
 
"Whoops."
 
-.-.-
 
It was only a matter of time before the culprit confessed, sobbing and
screaming excuses and admittances. Kaito found it quite pitiful, personally.
But the three other detectives just looked at her in distaste. It was already
past three, so the little group decided to find a small restaurant to spend the
evening and silence their stomachs.
 
Looking around him, the boutiques and whatever other shops there were around
them (They left the festival way back, thank god, if they were to spend another
moment in there, Kaito's personally castrating someone), the air was fresh, and
people all ages scrabbled around busily.

Every now and then, his indigo eyes always flickered towards the cowlicked
detective walking in front of them. In the sunlight, he was gorgeous, laughing
here and there with Hattori and pasting on his stoic expression with Hakuba
(Which Kaito always found an undertone of sincerity).
 
It was then that Kaito desperately wished these little upturns on the chapped
lips and furrow of perfectly shaped eyebrows and - and the radiating smiles and
infuriating smirks were directed towards him. It made his heart clench a tiny
bit, and throat feeling like he had swallowed a stone. But he lagged behind,
since Shinichi didn't even know him in his civilian identity.
He could only look at him from where he was right now.
It wouldn't just be a figure of speech to say that he was jealous of KID right
now, who received all these things at his heists, during the heat of the
chases.
 
“Oh! It’s a ramen shop!” Ran exclaimed to Kazuha and Aoko, and both girls
smiled brightly at the possibility of steaming, hot ramen.
 
-.-.-
 
“So, is there a reason why a mighty jewel thief is hanging around a mediocre
seafood festival?” Shinichi fumbled around with his chopsticks, and said the
phrase as simply as stating the weather.
Kaito choked, bursting into a coughing fit.
 
Poker face. Poker face.
 
“Eh? Where?” Kaito was truly thankful to the gods that their companions all
went over to crowd the mini buffet area at the other end of the restaurant.
Shinichi yawned in response.

“Damn, I didn’t get enough coffee this morning.”
 
Kaito was dumbfounded for a few seconds, before shaking himself out of it. 

“What?”

Kaito was positively drenched in cold sweat now.
Thank the lords for the loud Osakan and his voice.
 
“Oi, ya guys can go an’ get what you want now. Woah, woah. Hakuba, salad is all
you get?” Heiji called out from halfway across the store. Shinichi winched.

Saguru’s snort was very audible.
 
-.-.-
 
Along the way to the train station, Shinichi dropped so many hints Kaito didn’t
even bother counting anymore. Every time Kaito started to question the
detective about it whenever the rest of their group was out of hearing range,
Shinichi acted like the past few minutes simply didn’t happen.
 
It wasn’t until they waved goodbye to the Osakan duo and started walking
towards the Ekoda platform that Kaito wanted to throw up his hands in
frustration.

Had his dear detective really been all this indirect and teasing before?
 
The magician saw his one opening when Ran tried to help Aoko find her ticket,
towing Saguru along, and when the detective was lost in some of his musings,
Kaito leant in and, of course, did the inevitable.

Shinichi didn’t know what was even happening until he looked straight forward
and felt himself pinned to the wall with Kaito thoroughly exploring his mouth.
Shinichi’s eyes widened and squirmed uncomfortably. He could feel a strong,
dominant toungue playing around with Shinichi's and subconsciously opened his
mouth further.
They stayed there for minutes, tasting each other.

Kaito drew back with a breathy sigh, “It’s what you get when you tease a
professional trickster and gentleman thief.”

“..W-what the hell?” Came the response.
 
“Ehem, Kaito, our transport will be arriving in a few minutes.”
 
Kaito froze and turned his head stiffly around.
Saguru stood with his arms crossed, clearing unamused.
Aoko looked like she was going to slice someone’s head off via mop in the next
five minutes, yet she sported a wild blush.
Ran, oh poor, Ran, was leaning into the wall with hands over her face and
mumbling something along the lines of “Oh my gosh my childhood crush just got
kissed by his identical twin what do I do what do I do.”
 
Kaito then nervously turned around to find Shinichi, with his hands on his
hips, glaring at him head-on, but a blush still lingered around his cheeks.
 
“BaKaito! You’re losing a limb today, whether you l-like it or not!” Aoko half-
sobbed half screamed.
 
“Ouch.”
 
And the next half hour was well spent on convincing Ran (Who was prepared to
break the concrete ground under them if anyone other than Shinichi came a good
ten meters in her radius) that his childhood friend was not homosexual
(although, the apparent blush on said childhood friend said so otherwise).
Hakuba had disappeared from his original position and later found standing over
another body surrounded by police.
 
To cut a long story short, they missed the last train of the night.
 
“Y’know, this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t drag me to a f-f- slimy
things festival, Ahoko.”
“Yes, yes, blame the seafood who did nothing wrong. Oh, I bought five ocean
trout which I’m making you for breakfast.”
 
“Ran, I-“
“Shinichi, don't talk to me.”
Chapter End Notes
     Oh god I did not just go and break two innocent girl's hearts.
     Nope.
***** Tooru/Conan - “Not saying I hate you, but if your face was on fire and I
had a glass of water, I’d drink it.” *****
Chapter Summary
     Tooru has developed an undying hate for lightbulbs and anything
     remotely related.
Chapter Notes
     I had too much fun with this
Drabble 7.
Tooru/Conan - “Not saying I hate you, but if your face was on fire and I had a
glass of water, I’d drink it.”
Chapter warnings: Hella lotta sass and snark.
---
Kogoro ate all of last night’s leftovers again.
Conan sighed and closed the refrigerator with a small, pained sigh.
Ran was at karate practice again, preparing for the tournament later on in the
week. With her gone, there wasn’t left a single entity in the area that Conan
knew could cook decently.
Wait, something smells like it’s burning up.
And to the diminished detective’s further horror he followed dark fumes to an
open window, stuck his head out, and found the side of Poirot burning.

Without further thinking, Conan leapt down from the windowsill, threw on his
coat and shoes in haste, and practically slid down the stairs and ran to the
front of the coffee shop, all the while dialling the fire department and, hell,
even Division One judging from past experience.
To Conan’s (un)surprise, the friendly neighbourhood alcoholic beverage was
standing to the side, holding a hose and spraying the water onto the growing
flames with a weary look in his eyes, while Azusa-san ran around in frantic
behind him, herding a group of customers onto the street.
“Ne, ne Amuro-niichan, what happened?” Conan walked up to the blonde and
pointed towards the flames, which were decreasing due to the arrival of the
fire department. He shook some of the water spray out of his hair and rubbed
his glasses.
Tooru actually heaved a sigh.

“One of the light bulbs malfunctioned, since, Amuro-kun forgot to change it
last week,” Azusa chirped, coming up from behind them, with some irritation
stirred in.
Tooru sighed and ruffled his blonde hair.
Conan suppressed a yawn. And here he thought it was arson.

“What happened, Conan-kun?” Takagi’s voice asked behind the detective.

“Oh, haha, I wanted to dial the fire department, but I must’ve dialled the
wrong number, sorry Takagi-keiji,” Conan scratched his head.

Takagi raised an eyebrow, but let it slide, “Do you know how the fire
happened?”

Tooru switched off the garden hose and walked over to the duo, “Electrical
issues, sorry officer,” He laughed sheepishly.

“And whose fault is that, I wonder,” Conan mumbled under his breath.
Tooru shot a look.

“Your residence received two bomb threats so far.”
“Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.”
“As well as a couple more in your past life.”
Conan snorted, “The last thing I want is an argument, nii-chan. But it’s still
on the list.”
Takagi slowly shuffled back.
“If I agreed with you, we’d both be wrong.”
They were both silent for a few seconds.
Tooru smiled, “They say he who smiles in a crisis has found someone to blame.”
“Well, the one truth in this conversation is and was always the fact that
Amuro-niichan’s unsteady set of comebacks.”
“My opinions may have changed,” Tooru huffed, “But not the fact that I’m
right.”
“I intend to live long, so far so good,” Conan snapped. Tooru internally
chuckled at the implications behind the sentence.
“I just remembered, if the world didn’t suck, we’d all fall off.”
Tooru barely registered the fact that Inspector Megure was poking him in the
arm while Officer Satou was waving a hand in front of Conan’s face, but he
ignored it.
“When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the fire department
usually uses water,” Conan gestured behind him to a few fire-fighters.
“But I’m not the one who usually chases people who ask ‘Does this cloth smell
like chloroform to you?’” Tooru snorted.
“If I didn’t, Japan would be depopulated by now,” Conan pouted.
“But the very fact that Japan is plenty overpopulated right now severely
contradicts your statement. It shows me you’re overconfident of sorts.”
“I don’t have an attitude problem. You have a perception problem.”
By then a small crowd had gathered around them, some watching with curiosity,
while others with no small amount of amusement.
At some point, even Ran joined the crowd, a look of half confusion and half
hilarity etched onto her face, but she didn’t say anything, only watched her
surrogate little brother snap at the waiter and – somehow – look intimidating
(Even though the kid only barely reached his knees, to Tooru’s amusement).
“Conan-kun, er, it’s past nine, don’t you think you should go home by now?”
Megure kneeled down beside Conan. The boy in question checked his watch, and
almost jumped when Ran placed a hand on his shoulder.
“R-Ran-neechan!”
“Come on, Conan-kun, don’t you think Amuro-san’s been through enough today?”
Tooru couldn’t help but feel some relief and endearment as he watched Conan
wave his arms around and advertising the fact that he ‘wasn’t tired’.
Tooru knelt down and patted Conan on the head. Even with all of his mature
nature and keen eye, he had his childish side.
And it was then that Tooru just had to place a small kiss on the boy’s
forehead, earning a stutter and a childish blush in return, before Ran dragged
him off towards the direction of the agency.
Azusa walked up to the tanned waiter from behind, and tried – and failed – to
suppress a small giggle.
“My mother used to tell me that friends may come and go, but enemies just keep
accumulating. I’m just not sure where that little boy fits on the scale.”
***** Division One/Shinichi – “Holy shit Kudou-kun is that a maid dress..?”
*****
Chapter Summary
     It's one of these days when he wants to murder an article of
     clothing. There has been more in the past, but that's another story
     for another time.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Drabble 8.
Division One/Shinichi – “Holy shit Kudou-kun is that a maid dress..?”
Chapter warnings: Crossdressing, groping (minor)
---
 
“Ra-an! I can’t do this!” Shinichi screeched with the power of a banshee (or so
he thought) and shoved back the articles of rather frilly clothing and a black
wig back into the karate champion’s arms.
 
“But Shinichi! Our play this year’s specially set in a café! And the actor for
the main maid character was injured from a netball accident, and I thought
you’d be perfect since your acting skills suddenly improved from last year. I
know your proportions are suspiciously similar to a girl’s, so I got this
tailor-made for you!”
 
Shinichi wanted nothing more than to snort, Of course my acting improved, since
I’ve spent a year living with you and pretending twenty-four seven.
 
But instead opt for more screeching.
 
“W-wait, how do you know my proportions!?”
 
He earned an eye-roll as a reply, “You know, Yukiko-san does some very nice
things for you if you just ask nicely.”
 
Shinichi slapped his forehead and dragged his hand down the side of his cheeks.
That old lady!
 
“Sonoko’s even willing to bring you two whole bags of Hawaiian coffee! This
play’s important to the school, geez, Shinichi, and you looked good in the Dark
Knight costume too!” Ran pouted, shoving the dastardly clothes back in the
detective’s face.
As much as that sounds tempting to Shinichi, he would rather give up on exotic
coffee beans than his dignity.
The doorbell suddenly chimed like a thunderbolt to Shinichi’s ears, and he
hissed as he made his way to the door.
“Delivery for Kudou-san!” A man in a blue delivery service uniform hollered
from the doorsteps.
 
“Yes, coming right away.”
 
Shinichi opened the door gingerly, casting his best friend a sideways glance
before taking the box, and almost dropping it due to the weight (Shinichi took
a whiff, and it smelled suspiciously like coffee) before closing the door with
his foot.
 
Shinichi took a moment to look down at the mystery package in his arms.
 
A sticky-taped note jumped out to him, and Sonoko’s bold, capital writing
captured her essence of irkiness perfectly.
 
YOU’RE TAKING THE ROLE. NO BUTS.
 
A painful noise came from the boy’s throat.
 
Ran didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh in pity, and placed the black and
white costume on a nearby coffee table, and then slowly walked up from behind
the soon to be traumatized detective.
 
“You’ll live.”
 
“I hope so too,” Shinichi walked stiffly over to the kitchen to place the bags
of cursed beans down and hopefully lie down and cry.
 
“Now try these on before I make you try them on,” Ran growled from his side,
aura darkening in an instant.
 
“Eh? H-hey, no, Ran!” Shinichi was dragged by the ear to the bathroom while the
girl in question proceeded to pick up the costume from where she last left it.
 
“If you don’t get changed yourself, I’ll strip you down and do it myself.”
There was a touch of hysterical amusement to the voice.
 
“R-Ran I didn’t know you were such a sadist!” Shinichi was on the brink of
tears now, and pushed into the bathroom with his new clothes while the karate
champion slammed the door.
“You’d better put the laced underwear on too, details are everything.”
 
“Eh?!”
 
-.-.-
 
Shinichi reluctantly emerged from the bathroom, feeling very awkward and
exposed beyond comprehension.
 
A squeal thundered into his ears and Shinichi knew in a dooming instant that
Sonoko has paid them a visit.
 
“Ran! They fit perfectly!” The blonde rushed up to the frozen boy and started
staring him from the head down, then back up again, absently brushing hairs of
the wig out of the way to inspect his chest area, before poking a finger down
the collar and pulling outwards to emphasize the spaciness, “We’re either gonna
have to fix this part a bit, or the detective geek’s going to have to grow some
breasts.”
 
Shinichi flushed, “Sonoko!” He hissed, but earned little to no reaction.
 
Ran was almost doubling over in laughter over at the corner, hiccups
interrupting every so often.
 
And here was one of the times in Shinichi’s life where he thought that he
couldn’t have possibly chosen a worse time period to be born in.
 
-.-.-
 
“Haibara, help me.”
 
“I’ve told you, there’s nothing I can do in a situation like this. It’s your
fault for inheriting your mother’s feminine figure.”
 
If an action could describe Shinichi’s frustrations right now, it would be
throttle.
 
A certain tea-blonde girl, that is.
 
Shinichi threw his head back onto the sofa and groaned like a zombie. Agasa
looked over to the mourning boy worriedly, and his gaze flickered over to the
only not-child left.
 
“Ai-kun, is Shinichi-kun alright?”
 
Ai huffed, and just sipped her tea once more, seemingly interested in the
shapes the tea leaves made in the liquid.
“He’s bound for a one way trip to hell. Can’t cancel the ticket, don’t even
try.”
 
“Ow, Haibara, that’s harsh. Couldn’t you be at least more pitiful for me before
I go? I endured pain as a child with you for a year.”
 
“Oh, yes, the laboratory experiments were fun while they lasted.”
 
“…”
 
-.-.-
 
“Oh my god, Ran, oh my god. They just had to murder someone at the play while
I’m still in the maid costume before the actual damn thing starts and now I
can’t find my fucking clothes I need to change back into so I can go
participate in the investigation,” Shinichi was seeing stars and almost
hyperventilating, and Ran sat on a fold-up chair in front of him with a hand
covering her face.
 
“I’m getting a recurring sense of deja-vu,” She muttered darkly, “Only a
shitload worse.”
 
“And the entire Division One is here too! Ran!” Shinichi let out several
strangled sobs and his voice was practically bouncing off the walls in the
cramped dressing room.
 
“Shinichi, I have advice for you,” The detective’s daughter stood up with a
clatter from her chair, leaving the boy in question to stop abruptly and star
at her with wide eyes
 
She took a deep breath.
 
“Be a man, and get out there, since no one will give a shit about what you’re
wearing,” And with that, she snatched Shinichi by the collar, threw him out the
door and locked it behind him.
 
Shinichi stood dumbfounded, then he turned around.
 
And bumped head on into Shiratori.
 
-.-.-
 
“K-Kudou-kun? Is that a-a..” Megure Juzo sputtered at the first sight of the
thoroughly pissed off (and blushing) Saviour of the Police marching into the
area in a frilly Lolita dress, stockings, black heels and a wig, topped off
with a maid headband, with a highly disturbed (and red) Shiratori in tow.
 
“Keibu, let me see the scene,” Shinichi growled, feeling his face flush up
again, a strand of hair falling onto his face and he blew it off with a huff.
 
“A-ah, yes, fight away, er, Takagi-kun.?”
 
The younger officer finally snapped out of his gaping and turned to an area
where forensics flocked rather heavily, “Er, sure, t-this way, Kudou-kun..”
 
Takagi received an annoyed cheek tug from Satou (faint dust of pink lingering
on her cheeks), and proceeded to stomp over to Chiba (and the many, many other
officers who are either sputtering and blushing wildly or ogling the teen in a
dress and tight-fit stockings strutting in front of them) to possibly even slap
him to wake him up.
 
Other students, girls and boys, all stopped in recognition of Japan’s Great
Detective crossdressing, as his heels clicked against the wooden floor and
black hair flowing.
 
Some were pinching themselves, others were staring (rather inappropriately,
Shinichi sighed) and some even took photos, although Shinichi ignored it the
best he could, which was difficult considering the circumstances.
 
The detective’s ears could even pick up one Suzuki Sonoko’s mad fit of laughter
and snorts in the background.
 
Shinichi walked around the scene and pulled out a pair of lacy, white gloves
(kept in the apron pocket for the second scene) and bent down slightly to
inspect the position of the body (which hasn’t yet been moved, thank god), near
an open window close to the back of the room.
 
Shinichi thought bitterly that he’d never made a worse mistake in his life, as
a warm summer breeze swept through the window and through his legs.
 
The thin, light skirt flitted up with grace and began to fall down slowly,
before it was roughly shoved down by one Great Detective with a red face and a
rage building up.
 
But it was too late.
 
Various Division One officers and several onlookers already saw what they saw,
and couldn’t look away, even after their view was interrupted by the skirt
again. Shinichi wanted to, contradicting his morals severely, just kill someone
in the room and lock himself in the restroom to starve and die of thirst.
 
 
Ugh, Ran was getting a full lecture of Holmes the minute he sees her.
 
-.-.-
 
“Amago-san, we’ll talk down at the station,” Satou growled as she went to reach
for her handcuffs, but was roughly shoved to the side when said man made a run
for it, obviously not ready for prison life.
 
Amago Akita looked around wildly. With his size, it’ll be easy to take a
hostage in this room and flee while he has the chance. With the police closing
in at the front of majority of the general onlookers, his options are limiting,
fast.
 
And a certain little detective catches his hazel eyes, apparently still sulking
and tearing off his wig as he makes his way to the stairs leading to the change
rooms.
 
 
Without much second thought, the man grabs the teen by the hand and spins him
around, pinning him on his chest towards the police officers, who suddenly
freeze.
The boy makes a surprised squeak at the sudden movement, and Akita places a
large hand over his mouth.
 
“Anyone dares move any closer and you won’t want to know what happens to the
boy,” He sneered, backing further into the wall behind him.
 
The pudgy officer – called Chiba, he remembers – paces slowly towards him,
holding his hands up, “A-Amago-san, please let go of Kudou-kun first and we can
discuss this further.”
 
Akita snorted. Loudly.
Do they take him as a fool?
 
One of his hands moved over Shinichi’s chest, and the boy under him shivers.
 
“You came too close,” He laughs, and it comes out more like a cackle.
 
He can see the officers tense suddenly, and Chiba backs away.
The female with short hair and a pencil skirt is madly whispering orders into
her communicator, but with a hostage like this, they won’t try anything.
 
He lets his hand creep down, and enjoys the feeling of one of the mightiest
detectives in Japan tremble under him, so Akita nips at his ear, enjoying the
dominance while it lasted.
 
Because it didn’t last long.
 
And he could barely register the boy slipping from his grip as a burning pain
flared in his crotch, and the tingling of a solid and sharp object that had
struck him brutally there.
Akita doubled over in pain, and felt a pair of handcuffs click silently onto
his wrists.
 
And Shinichi stood over him, in all of his maid glory, hands on hips and a
disgusted scowl on his face.
 
“Kudou-kun! Are you alright?”
 
“I’m fine, Keibu,” He turned around, and dusted himself off, “I’ve dealt with
sexual threats from criminals before, seems like the heels actually came in
handy,” He stepped on his right feet twice, as to emphasize the point.
 
Some of the police and forensics officers blinked.
 
“Er, that’s good to know, but, Kudou-kun.. Sexual threats?” Shiratori seemed
almost hesitant to ask the question.
 
It was the detective’s turn to blink.
 
“Oh, that. They didn’t do much to me, don’t worry. I’m good,” He laughed half
heartedly, “Now if you’d excuse me, this costume is disturbing to wear.”
 
-.-.-
 
Oh my god, Megure screamed mentally as he sat in the passenger seat of the
police car back to the station.
 
Sure, Kudou-kun had a huge fanbase, was pretty handsome (or cute, if you look
at it that way) and he has some ridiculously long eyelashes..
 
But he’s actually encountered multiple criminals who would take his purity
without a second thought and not minded the least.
 
The inspector sobbed.
 
Takagi looked over with tired bags under his eyes, “Keibu, did you have the
same dream as me? ..The one about Kudou-kun in a dress?”
 
“I pinched myself multiple times during the scenario so I assure you lot that
it wasn’t,” Satou gritted from the back seats.
 
-.-.-
 
“Holy shit, Kudou, you actually got dolled up in a maid uniform an’ solved a
murder in it!” Heiji was suffocating in bouts of hysterical sobs, “Oh my god
that guy even tried to grope ya too!”
 
“I hope you die, Hattori,” Shinichi growled, staring at anywhere but the TV
playing a thorough rewind through the whole case, including the tactful heel
kicking to the balls.
 
Heiji wheezed, and collapsed onto the floor and into one large tanned heap,
“Now that I saw that, I can die happy.”
 
To the side, Ran looked distressingly blue in the face as she tried to keep her
chortling under control while Kazuha blushed crimson, hiding her face behind
her hands and the television continued blaring.
 
-.-.-
 
“Ah, meitantei-kun, I saw the news the other day,” Kid hid an amused grin
behind his Poker Face.
 
“W-what?” Shinichi almost fell over.
 
“Although, I must say, the taste in ruffles was very poor, and some of the
seams were in incorrect areas. If you want, I can bring you a special garment
at my next heist that I tailored myself.”
 
“Wait.. ‘I tailored myself..’” Shinichi paused, “You had one all along?”
 
“Well, I was waiting for the day where I could dress you up accordingly,” The
thief chuckled, “Without a soccer ball on my face, of course.”
 
Nevertheless, the great Phantom Thief 1412 was deathly accurately sleep-darted,
and tried up in suspenders, and slung up onto the edge of the rooftop for all
to admire that very night.
Chapter End Notes
     I feel so awkward now after rereading this heLP
***** Saguru/Conan - "Enigma in glasses." *****
Chapter Summary
     Saguru's not a detective for nothing.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Drabble 9.
Saguru/Conan – “Enigma in glasses.”
Chapter warnings: Underage.
---
 
Hakuba Saguru’s interest is, for once, not fired up by either a flamboyant
thief in white or a genius fictional Londoner.
 
It currently lies in a tiny grade schooler, complete with an oversized pair of
glasses, with an aura of death enshrouding him so strong, it’s almost
otherworldly. Yet, the layers and layers of masks and pretend wrapped around
him – suffocating him, even – shouldn’t be necessary for a child so early on in
his life.
 
And especially not the death, the rotten stench of corpses. It follows the boy
in every footstep, begging to be released onto a nearby living being.
 
Ah, yes, something like a reaper of souls, that was what he was.
 
Saguru snorted quietly as he walked through the aisles and aisles of books,
precious knowledge. The supernatural is merely something fabricated by a
superstitious human mind.
 
But looking away from that perspective, Edogawa Conan is a little, walking boy-
shaped mystery. Secrets upon secrets, and when the blonde finds himself in
these deep, sapphire eyes, he doesn’t see a child, seven years of age.
 
He doesn’t see any innocence lodged in the hypnotizing orbs.
 
Slender fingers brush the spines of books after books, occasionally sliding a
few out into the light to flip through the pages, before replacing them
carefully back in their positions.
He’s nearly at the end of the row, and if these last few don’t present him with
the answers he so desperately needs right now, he’ll have to start looking in
the newspapers section over by the far corner of the library.
 
Edogawa’s really something, Saguru muses, smiling lightly, caressing the old
spines with a final delicate touch before striding over to a sign with bold
letters.
 
 
Maybe that foolish old man Mouri Kogoro doesn’t even realise, nor his daughter.
Conan’s not just thoroughly intelligent, nor even a child prodigy, but
something unexplainable.
It’s something inside that calm and collected mind that draws curiosity to it.
 
Scarlet eyes scan over rumpled pieced of printed paper, all old and worn, but
kept for research purposes. A fine layer of dust is settled over everything he
sees.
 
Saguru stops.
 
There, on a newspaper dated two years ago – recent by media standards – was a
set of startling blue eyes staring back to him.
It’s eerily familiar, and even the same striking smirk on the face of Kudou
Shinichi some days before his so-called disappearance.
 
Something in the instinctual area of Saguru’s mind screamed something’s off, so
he shifts forward, closer to the shelf, and gingerly picks the paper up.
Conan’s announced that he’s cousins with the Heisei Holmes before, but it
doesn’t make it any less disconcerting.
 
Saguru stiffens suddenly, an uncomforting thought etched into his mind, and
places it to the side, and begins flicking through the whole lot of crumpled
paper and dust particles, until he reaches the very back.
 
Through sheer luck, there was the picture of Kudou Yuusaku next to Inspector
Megure, and by his side..
 
Saguru blanches and hurriedly digs into his pocket for his cell phone, unlocks
it was haste and flips through his pictures.
 
Saguru opens a picture of Conan, taken while in an investigation (Saguru will
never admit why he took it in the first place), mentally crops out the glasses
and places it to the side of the child Shinichi’s newspaper photo.
 
His breath hitches.
 
-.-.-
 
“Ah, le le? Kogoro Oji-san, doesn’t this look like a picture of a hawk and a
tree from far away?” Conan chirps, and to a regular person, it sounds like
regular elementary curiosity, but for Saguru’s ears, it was strangely haunting
and laced with deadly-serious undertones.
He tried not to flinch.
 
“Eh? Stay out of the way, brat, this is a police investigation, do you hea-”
Kogoro huffed, before turning to a patch of blood huddled unevenly around the
victim’s head.
 
“..Takagi-kun, round up the suspects and bring them in for a second round of
questioning,” Megure nodded to his officer.
 
Saguru glanced briefly at the child below him, face holding a scowl again. Yet
the air around his grew cold and calculating.
 
It was alluring, in a way, that such power and secrecy could be emitted from a
simple child like this. Saguru has never seen a real expression from Conan
other than this signature scowl. He could see that the childish playfulness is
faked. Saguru’s not inexperienced with body language after all.
 
Looking around, Saguru could see that almost all of the officers have left the
room, and jumped at the chance to ask the bespectacled boy currently walking to
the door.
 
“Edogawa-kun?”
 
He jumped slightly, and turned around sheepishly, pasting an all-too-fake smile
onto his face, “Yes, Hakuba-niichan?”
 
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Saguru saw the child’s shoulders tense
slghtly, then forcibly relaxed.
 
“Sure, niichan!” He began to walk to one of the many hallways of the mansion
the man was murdered in.
 
Once they were out of earshot from any officers, Conan turned defensively and a
low growl escaped his throat.
 
“..How much do you know?” He spat. Saguru almost took a step back in surprise.
Size was always deceiving, and add in the venomous air, the atmosphere was
almost suffocating.
 
“What do you mean, Edogawa-kun?” Saguru decided playing dumb was one of the
more civil options in this situation and crouched down on one knee to give the
meaning of no harm.
 
“Out with it, Hakuba. I see that look all the time when the police and
detectives start questioning suspects, and the fact that you asked us to go to
a secluded area means that this is something that you don’t want anyone in
public to overhear.”
 
Saguru ran a hand through his hair, and internally noted the lack of
honorifics, “You know too much to be a regular seven year old, Edogawa-kun.”
 
He could see Conan flip up his watch mechanism that commonly puts people to
sleep, as Saguru saw too many times. He just hoped that his next few steps into
the conversation will lead his to be discovered sleeping in a hallway.
 
“You know who I am,” Conan snarled, backing further into the wall. The blonde
across from him made no movement, “Who are you doing this for?”
 
That caught Saguru. Conan – Shinichi, rather, - was hiding and on the run from
someone. Most likely a criminal syndicate, since no other groups would have
reason to try kill a talented detective.
 
“I’m not doing this for anyone, just my curiosity, Edo-Conan-kun,” Saguru held
his hands up and tried to paste a sincere expression onto his face.
 
The boy relaxed slightly, but still showed no crack in his guard.
 
“I won’t do anything with this information. I’m not asking for trust, I’m just
asking from my curiosity. Why are you like this?”
 
He hesitated, obviously weighing out the pros and cons, before glancing back at
the hallway entrance and placed a hand on Saguru’s arm.
 
“Ah, Hakuba-niichan, did you go see the newest Gomera movie yesterday?” He
asked in a high voice, and Saguru sat there dumbfounded – “Huh?” – for a few
seconds before small fingers began tapping on his palm, and he forced himself
to focus.
 
Sharp angles, dots, straight lines. Ah.
 
Pigpen cipher.
 
“Ah, no I didn’t Edogawa-kun. Was it interesting?” Saguru didn’t bother to
inject much emotion into the sentence, and was focused more on the insistent
and hurried tapping.
 
Untested drugs.
 
Saguru’s eyes widened but held his arm still.
 
“Really?” Conan even pouted slightly, likely out of habit, but didn’t lift his
head.
 
Alcoholic components used to rearrange cellular compositions.
 
Does anyone else know about this? Saguru tapped back in Morse code on the
child’s forehead before there wasn’t enough space to write in pigpen cipher.
 
Conan hesitated.
 
A few. They’re trusted.
 
Saguru decided that was enough for the time being, and the not-child was
sweating and scanning the area as they both stood up, just in time to see
Officer Satou escorting a sobbing young man – the son? – to the front door.
The duo scrambled out of the dim area.
 
“Ugh, this late already?” Kogoro grumbled, suppressing a yawn, “Buses are gone
by now. Trains too.”
 
Conan pranced up to his side. Saguru stifled a chuckle.
 
“Ne, ne oji-san, can we spend the night at Hakuba-niichan’s?” His eyes shined
bright as he pointed to the teen standing awkwardly off to the side.
 
“Oi, oi, that’s impolite to just storm into a strangers house and stay the
night, brat,” The older man snorted, but Saguru could spot affection in his
eyes as he mussed the boy’s hair.
 
“It’s absolutely fine, Mouri-san. My home isn’t far from here, and this late, I
can’t willingly let you two walk alone back to your agency.”
 
Conan shot him a small, ‘I know you still have questions’ smile, genuine and
throwing the European in for the loop.
 
“It’s okay then?” Kogoro asked, before mumbling “Gotta give Ran a call then.”
 
“Absolutely.”
 
-.-.-
 
That night, with the first quarter moon hung high in the sky, with the clean
smell of jasmine drifting in from open windows, Saguru made his way blindly
through the dark to the kitchen.
 
His throat felt like it was on fire from dehydration. He was so caught up in
the mystery that was spending the night in his home and the case that he forgot
to drink anything.
 
He poured himself a glass of the pure liquid without second thought.
 
When he made his way back to the room, he noticed that the door to a certain
shrunken detective’s room was slightly ajar, and a dark brown cowlick sat next
to the window, slightly hunched over and glasses on the floor.
 
Saguru slipped into the room and closed the door quietly, but Conan still
managed to sense his presence, and whispered without turning around, “Can’t
sleep either?”
 
Saguru shook his head, and placed himself down beside Conan, who was folding
little pieces of origami cranes.
 
“Y’know, Sadako folded these little cranes in hopes of curing her illness. I
wonder if I do the same, I’ll magically become normal again?” Conan chuckled
dryly, but was accompanied with little humour.
 
They sat is silence for a little while afterwards, feeling the breeze flowing
through the window.
 
“Thanks for letting me tell you at least part of my burden.”
 
Saguru turned, and smiled softly, “It’s a pleasure.”
 
He pulled Conan to lean against his side, and they dozed gently off, leaving
red, blue and white paper cranes scattered across the floor, torn to pieces and
folded again and again.
Chapter End Notes
     I actually planned this to be smut but it took a crash off the
     emotional cliff sob
***** Heiji/Shinichi - "Do you call this studying?" *****
Chapter Summary
     Shinichi just - desperately - wants to study for his finals. Heiji
     has-always has other plans
Chapter Notes
     In celebration of the tenth drabble, have some smut oUo
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Drabble 10.
Heiji/Shinichi – “Do you call this studying?”
Chapter warnings: Heavy smut and use of sexual toys.
---
 
“Hattori, get off me, idiot, this isn’t going to help my Japanese Literature
marks.”
 
“But Ku-dou~! What am I supposed to do here if you’re studyin’?” Heiji groaned
as he let go of the action of nuzzling against aforementioned boys neck.
 
“You said your physics was crap and needed my help, but in truth you just
wanted to come over, right?” Shinichi looked over his shoulder to find a pouty
Detective of the West sitting on his couch with his feet crossed. Heiji hopped
from his spot down onto the ground and with one swift motion, had his blushing
counterpart straddled on his lap.
 
“Wha-”
 
“Ya more comfortable now, aren’t ya?”
 
“You-you bastard!”
 
“But I’m your bastard.”
 
Shinichi gave up immediately after that. Whenever his lover gets into a
‘playful’ mode, shit will hit the fan and there’s no use struggling considering
he’s overpowered by Heiji’s upper body muscles.
 
But he could try kicking the guy in the balls..
 
Nah, he won’t want to be charged for domestic violence.
 
So instead, Shinichi focused – or tried to – on his pages of notes, and started
chewing the end of his pencil (that Heiji gave him) and took a small sip of
black coffee (Heiji calls it motor oil) from his cup (that, once again, Heiji
bought for him).
 
Yet, he slipped out of his concentration repeatedly as he tried not to think
about the large, strong hands roaming around his chest and stomach,
occasionally pinching and twisting certain areas, which made Shinichi pant and
try to stifle his moans.
 
“You jerk..” Shinichi muttered, writhing slightly to get himself out of the
other’s grasp, which only proved useless.
 
“Wow, sure turned on quickly, Kudou,” Heiji had the nerve to fake innocence
with his voice as he slid his fingers down to the trembling teen’s crotch.
 
“Sh-shut up, you ass,” The books lay forgotten on the coffee table.
 
“Aw, but you’ve got the better ass here.”
 
“Oi, oi, get off. Now.”
 
“Sorry, but no can do,” Heiji grinned and pulled down the zipper on Shinichi’s
jeans, earning a mortified squeak of protest, which were apparently a readily
lost cause on the former.
 
Moans escaped violently as Shinichi could do nothing but keep his balance of
Heiji’s lap while he nibbled at little areas on Shinichi’s neck and ear, and
stroked his hardened member, which was already leaking with precum.
 
“Hng..”
 
“Hm, oh right, where’s my bag?”
 
“..Huh?” Shinichi mewled at the loss of heat as the tanned boy stood up and dug
around his barrel bag lying to the side of the sofa.
 
“Ah, here.”
 
“Eh?” Shinichi asked as something was tossed onto his lap. He stared at it with
confusion, hilarity and mortification all bunched up in a single glare, and
stiffly tilted his head up to utter in total disbelief.
 
“A.. vibrator?”
 
“Hey, what’s wrong with that?”
 
“Everything, Hattori.”
 
-.-.-
 
It was okay at first, nothing too over the top, and everything was within safe
zone.
The plastic was cold and hard, and sent little shivers down his spine. What
made it so much more awkward was the fact that Heiji was watching him intently
all the time with a dead serious glint in his eyes.
 
And then, without a second’s hesitation, he reached over to pull out a small,
plastic remote, and jammed the lever to the highest setting it could possibly
go.
 
Shinichi jerked up, his entire body shaking and twitching with vibrations,
clawing at the floorboards and collapsed in a heap with his backside up, still
gripping around the solid, humming machine, for the world to see. He trembled
and shifted, to try to reach the damned thing and pull it out in vain, but with
even the slightest bit of movement, his insides spasmed at the frictional
rubbing as he twisted his hips, and Shinichi could only remain in the same
position and at the contentedly humming Osakan’s mercy, moaning and letting out
small demands for the pleasurable torture to stop.
 
“Ah – Hattori, y-you, guh-!” Shinichi turned to glare at the teen now beside
him, “I can k-kill you right now and – ah! – hide your c-corpse where even H-
Hakuba won’t be able to find it.”
 
“I would like to see ya try with that up yer ass, Kudou,” Heiji cackled, and
ran a finger around the ring of muscles still clenching involuntarily to the
piece of plastic which was giving off a low hum. Shinichi gasped.
 
“I doubt that he’s even go lookin’ fer me, with the dangers of leaving us to in
a single room, and that room will explode with the sheer amount of ego in it.”
 
And then Heiji snatched the end of the half-protruding vibrating dildo, and
began to slowly push it into Shinichi’s hole, eliciting small, tight growls and
little squeaks and moans.
Shinichi, now feeling a jolt of pleasure with the every little centimetre his
western counterpart pushed it in, bucked his hips up further to invite the
intrusion.
 
“H-Ha-Heiji,” He growled, low and huskily.
 
“Hm,” A pause, “Yes Shin~ichi?” Heiji actually had the right nerve to purr into
the eastern’s ear, straining the syllables and used his wrist to twist the
vibrator violently in a smooth, flicking motion, and Shinichi screamed, toes
tensing up and back arching.
 
“F-fuck, hurry up,” Shinichi panted heavily, sweat dripping down his face and
head lolled onto his shoulders, sporting a misty, half-lidded look in his blue
eyes.
 
His counterpart paused for a small moment then smirked at his victory of the
intention to push Shinichi to the begging point.
 
“Sure, sure, ya highness,” He grunted before, pulling the dildo out from deep
inside his trembling rival-turned-lover and tossing it to the side, still fully
functional and giving out low buzzes. Both teens could only pay so much
attention to it in this situation, though.
 
Heii turned to Shinichi who was lying on the ground wantonly, green eyes
savouring the sight. His normally pale and stoic face was heavily flushed, and
his hips jerked up at the slightest touch. Long nails dug into the floorboards
with tension.
 
And he pushed in, slowly and temptingly, gripping onto pale, smooth thighs to
keep his balance. He could hear Shinichi’s hitch in breath and an unsaid urge
screaming at him to just move.
 
So he did. Hard and demanding, he thrusted deep into Shinichi again and again,
each time huge shivers and slithers of heat and pleasure jolting through their
veins, and Heiji huffed as he tried to regain his breath, while Shinichi
screamed and shook under him, sentences only coming out as half-formed phrases.
 
Heiji’s arms snaked around to grip Shinichi’s lower hips, and leant his head
forward to suck on Shinichi’s neck, with the latter throwing his head suddenly
onto his tanned boyfriend’s broad shoulders.
 
“Hah – shit, Heiji, faster..”
 
Heiji loved the little, scarce moments when Shinichi felt the situation was
desperate enough to scream his first name in such a way, making his spine
tingle in an erotic way.
 
So he rammed and forced himself deep into the heat, and jammed himself almost
desperately there repeatedly, until his built up tension released in a quick
second, coming inside Shinichi, and filling him with warm, white liquid.
 
He drew out slowly, and noticing the desperate actions Shinichi made, to
himself, shoved two fingers back into Shinichi’s backside and twisted them,
curved and scraped them along the warm, soaked walls.
 
Shinichi hiccupped, and came, slumping down slowly; legs still spread out
tiredly, and white spilling out and onto the floor. He breathed deeply and
turned his head to Heiji, cowlicks amazingly even more wild than normal and
glared. Hard.
 
“What happened to studying?”
 
“But this is what study time is for, isn’t it?” Heiji picked up the white
remote and switched it off.
 
The paler detective snorted, and picked up his now cold cup of ‘motor oil’ and
dumped it all over the tanned boy with a blank face.
 
“H-hey!” He protested.
 
Shinichi laughed and sat up – or tried to – and winced, “We’re going to need a
shower anyway.”
 
-.-.-
 
Outside the window, a furious girl in a ponytail resisted the urge to smash the
window and charge into the room and throttle his childhood friend.
 
Another girl, with loose, long hair, standing a few meters to the side, held a
distressing shade of scarlet on her face, clutching a few pieces of white
paper. She walked forward to catch her friend’s arm which was aimed at the poor
piece of glass that were originally peeking into.
 
“Kazuha-chan, p-please don’t cause property damage to Shinichi’s house.”
 
An exaggerated huff, “But Ran-chan, we thought we could be generous and come ta
Kudou-kun’s house ta exchange notes with the boys, but instead saw Heiji – that
idiot – just come an’ pounce on Kudou-kun!” Kazuha pointed into the window.
 
“But you were staring.”
 
“So were you.”
Chapter End Notes
     I feel strangely dirty for finishing this old one-shot //
     liesdownandcries
***** Ran/Shinichi & Heiji/Shinichi – “Nintendo is an asshole.” *****
Chapter Summary
     In which modern uncooperative electronic devices and whatnot has
     suddenly become the bane of a certain Osakan's existence.
 
Drabble 11.
Ran/Shinichi & Heiji/Shinichi – “Nintendo is an asshole.”
Chapter warnings: Heiji torture (in a screaming-at-technology kind of way).
Severe amounts of it. And dense Shinichi, can't forget that //laughs.
I do not own Nintendo or it’s products in any form.
---
 
Heiji felt the screaming need to just pick up the damn white machine sitting so
innocently just a few feet away.
 
“Strike!”The remotely electronic voice exclaimed, and Heiji twitched.
 
Well, bowling is pretty overrated these days, Heiji grumbled and took a sip
from his milkshake from the tabletop and leant back onto the couch with a heavy
sigh.
 
Sure, sure, he had a brash temper, brash mouth and – maybe – a slightly heavy
hand, but, hell, that doesn’t mean that the fucking Wii remote needs to be so
overexaggeratedly reactive to the loud Osakan whenever he so much bumps into
the remote. He didn’t even know you could ram a ball into the floor in Bowling.
 
And so, he continued to glare metaphorical holes into the widescreen television
in front of him as Ran stood to the side, basking in the glory of her fourth
strike in a row, now a four-bagger. She turned to face Shinichi, who was
standing idly by, swinging his arms habitually (they’ve been binge-bowling for
hours now) in a golf trance (He won almost all of their games, with two Condors
and five Albatrosses to date).
 
Heiji slumped further into the leather under him, silently wishing for kendo to
be also included onto the list of games, and so far, Heiji hasn’t found a
single sport which could his quick-to-alight temper and famously short-standing
irritability.
 
“How about some Wii-Fit?” Shinichi piped up, kneeling beside one of the drawers
as he pushed through each and every one of the white cases.
 
“You don’t even have a Wii-Fit balance board, how do you even have that?” Ran
softly snorted. Heiji brought up his legs onto the couch fabric and crossed
them, still in a seemingly never-ending staring competition with the giant
screen flashing in his face.
 
“I think my dad kidnapped it and hid it somewhere to use it as his personal
writing board, or something,” The frowning teen replied, trying to recall the
electronic’s whereabouts.
 
Heiji looked up, wanting to look away from all the motion on the screen, for
the fear that he’d receive flash blindness as a result. The tally of the
bowling game was still up and laughing in his face, and Heiji lagged behind a
good thirty points while his counterpart didn’t participate at all. Shinichi
seemed to have pulled a bicep while swinging a bit too hard on one of the last
rounds of the 9-hole game.
 
He still managed two Eagles, though, and consistent birdies for the rest of the
game.
 
The Osakan could only count two pars throughout the entire day, even though one
of them was the level of skill in their deductions when someone decided to push
a poor guy off a rooftop in the morning.
 
And if Heiji’s scientifically proven that that isn’t some supernatural power
obtained from excessive caffeine absorption, Sherlock Holmes intake or at least
some fucking natural talent, he’s setting fire to the nearest golf course. All
the while considering that he’d get sent to jail for arson and still going for
it.
 
“Uh, Hattori, are you comfortable with some Just Dance 2?” Shinichi asked with
mild discomfort as his gaze barely caught Ran already sliding the disk into the
mouth of the Wii.
 
Heiji snapped his head around with bewilderment before anyone would even be
able to scream ‘Go Fish’ (Kuroba Kaito felt a nasty shiver travel down his
spine) and was accompanied by a harsh crick in the neck.
 
But damn, Shinichi looks pretty good in tight jeans, Heiji has to admit, with
his kneeling down in front of the storage of discs and tilting his head up to
the side, Heiji doesn’t say anything for a moment, before almost falling off
the couch when Ran’s questioning him and waving an irritated hand in front of
his face before looking down to find that he spilled his caramel milkshake all
over himself.
 
“Hattori-kun, where do you think you’re looking, eh?” The long-haired girl
smiled down at him.
 
-.-.-
 
The tanned teen almost rolled, but still decided that walking down sanely was a
hell lot more efficient, and slid his hand onto the staircase banister.
 
He nudged his nose into Shinichi’s green tee shirt, and appreciated the soft
smell of coffee and fresh pine as he trudged down.
Heiji barely registered that he was nearing the bottom of the stairwell, and
let go of the fabric, then turned his emerald eyes at the duo now sitting on
the rub in the middle of the lounge room, with Shinichi hunched over a 3DS,
dragging his stylus up and down the screen, with Ran staring at her childhood
friend with a soft, fond look in her eyes.
 
“Ah, Hattori-kun!” Ran waved for the Osakan to come over, and gestured down at
the device the paler detective had in his possession. A look of determination
covered Shinichi’s face.
 
Ran motioned for him to sit down, “We found an old 3DS in the cabinet along
with a Nintendogs game still inside. Shinichi had two Labradors named after me
and Sonoko, and bought a German Shepard just then and named it after you!” She
let out a giggle, and Heiji stared at Shinichi, leaning over the screen and
furiously scrubbing the German Shepard, with black soap scuds forming
everywhere on it’s fur.
 
“Ah, Hattori, do you want to try?” Shinichi turned his eyes up and beamed,
blushes tinging the sides of his cheek, and Heiji suddenly felt the blood rush
furiously to his head.
 
Ran grumbled, gaze running back and forth between the two, before smiling and
crouching down to cling onto Shinichi, earning a sputter.
 
“Ne, Shinichi, you take care of these dogs so well you’ll make a good father
one day won’t you?” She chirped.
 
Heiji twitched, “Give me the DS.”
 
-.-.-
 
“Hattori that’s the second stylus you’ve lost in an hour.”
***** Ai/Conan - "I killed Mufasa." *****
Chapter Summary
     Conan sometimes just absolutely despises plays.
     Oh, and Haibara, can't forget Haibara.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Drabble 12.
Ai/Conan – “I killed Mufasa.”
Chapter warnings: Ai being Ai heh. Also, the pairing in this drabble is more
platonic than the others.
I do not own The Lion King in any form whatsoever.
---
 
Conan trudged out of the cinema not much unlike a dead fish would, except just
a bit more.. livingly.
 
He just sat through an approximately one and a half hour (or more) of an old
child’s movie, which someone suddenly had the astonishing wow idea of replaying
in one of Beika’s largest cinemas, which, amazingly enough, was actually a hit
with a number of children and couples.
 
Which, of course, the Shounen Tantei just couldn’t fight the urge to not come
and see, as the movie’s fairly new to them, even though Shinichi has seen it a
number of times in his childhood.
 
But he’s not going to tell them that.
 
Genta walked in front of Conan and Ai, proudly holding up three – three – large
empty boxes of popcorn, all devoured by himself during the duration of the
film. Mitsuhiko strutted beside him, lecturing the larger boy of the
importances of regulation in substance intake.
 
People poured out of the exit, and some bumped into the shrunken teen
unknowingly. One of the negative aspects of being five foot tall, he gritted,
as he struggled to keep the other three children in sight.
 
“Kudou-kun, did you enjoy the movie?” Ai came up alongside the boy and fell in
pace with him, smirking.
 
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen it thousands of times, lay it off, Haibara,” Conan
snorted, and stifled a yawn.
What he really needed right now was a nap. He stayed up late rereading the
Study of Scarlet, after all, and avoiding Ran’s hawk-eyed gaze. The stiff
cinema seats didn’t help a bit in that aspect, and, in his personal opinion,
the sound of the movie was far too loud for his liking.
 
-.-.-
 
They ran into a drug dealing in one of the alleyways on the way home. The
dealer, a thirty eight year old man, was stabbed three times in the chest. He
was found with two Lion King Tickets in his pocket, while the forensics took a
variety of photos.
 
“I don’t have the time to deal with this shit,” Conan threw his hands up in
frustration.
 
“Language, Conan-kun!” Ayumi yelled over towards him.
 
-.-.-
 
“Alright, class, we’ll be doing our class play this year on the Lion King!”
Kobayashi-sensei chirped from the front of the room, voice barely reaching
Conan, who was deep in thought, and he jerked up.
 
“Wait, seriously?” He looked over to Ai, who was picking at her nails
absentmindedly at the side.
 
“She said it just then, what’s the point of asking me?” She looked up,
mumbling, before propping her head on her hands and looking straight ahead.
 
Conan heaved a sigh, and fiddled with his glasses, then looked over to his
other three friends brighten up. At least they’re happy, he smiled
sarcastically.
 
“So, we need to assign the roles now, who wants to be Simba?” A voice cut
through, silencing the classroom and its occupants.
 
A series of hands shot up at rapid speed. Conan laid his head onto the desk and
closed his eyes. This will be a long day.
 
-.-.-
 
The bell, a light sound and a saviour of many lives, sounded, and permitted the
release of various schoolchildren into freedom. Conan made his way to his shoe
locker instead. He knew he didn’t pay much attention in class, but he shrugged
the fact off like swatting a mere, small fly.
 
Kobayashi-sensei was going to turn the innocent play into a musical, after all,
and Conan couldn’t be more disgruntled at her. Perhaps this was the result of
his sullen and foreboding feeling from yesterday at the cinema’s.
 
“Ah, Conan-kun! There you are! You’re going to be Mufasa, is that okay with
you?” Ayumi raced up to the boy’s side and panted, eyes shining.
 
“Eh?” That threw the boy in question for the loop.
 
“Ah, right, Ai-chan,” She gestured at the auburn-haired girl who was starting
to open her locker a few meters away from the two, “You’re going to be Uncle
Scar, since you can get scary sometimes too!”
 
Ai looked over in half-bemusement, and half bewilderment, eyes widening. Conan
snorted silently.
 
Ayumi traced her steps back to the two boys waiting for the trio at the
entrance of the school, and waved to the black-haired girl running up to them,
and started discussing things Conan could vaguely believe to be about the play,
and scene planning, and, in Genta’s case, eels for dinner, most likely.
 
“So, Kudou-kun,” Ai snapped the bespectacled boy out of his musings.
 
“Hm?” Conan hummed in reply, and shot the shrunken girl beside her a
questioning look.
“Ah, you’re going to have to fall off a cliff in your death scene,” She
reminded, Conan groaned, and focused on walking straight ahead, gravel
crunching under his red sneakers.
 
“I know that, Haibara, I know that,” He grumbled, kicking at a loose pebble on
the ground, intently watching it roll over to the side.
 
“The school’s thinking of conducting the play with real props, real scenery and
real locations, everything,” There was a sharp glint in her eyes, “They even
booked an area of a wildlife part already.”
 
Conan paused, letting the words slowly sink in, before stiffly turning his head
towards the mini-scientist and her smirk.
 
He croaked, “What.”
 
“Hm, have fun, and let me know if the trip down the cliff was fun,” The grey-
eyed girl sauntered off with a small wave of her hand, to join the remainder of
the Shounen Tantei.
 
Mitsuhiko turned to glance at Conan worriedly, then tapped Ai lightly on the
shoulder, earning a “Hm?” in response.
 
“Is.. is Conan-kun alright?” The skinny boy questioned, shifting his bag’s
weight and considering if her should wake his friend out of his trance.
 
“Ah, I just killed Mufasa,” She smirked back with a cackle to match.       
Chapter End Notes
     After rereading this, I realised that the plot didn't make much sense
     ugh.
***** Kaito/Shinichi – “Get your hands off me, criminal-!” *****
Chapter Summary
     Shinichi's life goals: defertilize each and every mafia boss with an
     excruciating kick down under. He's having some trouble completing
     said goal, though
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 
Drabble 13.
Kaito/Shinichi – “Get your hands off me, criminal-!”
Chapter warnings: Mafia/Agent AU, molestation and I feel like this drabble
contains more swearing than some of the others.
---
 
“Agent 4869, Agent 4869, are you okay? Please respond, Agent 4869?!”
 
“Roger.. I’m f-fine..”
 
“4869, you don’t sound fine, if you’re sustaining an injury, contact internal
paramedics please..”
 
“No, I’m fine..” Shinichi wheezed, clutching onto his arm, with blood seeping
through his suit from the bullet wound.
 
“If you’re in need of assistance, contact us immediately, over.”
 
“Understood.”
 
Shinichi snapped shut his phone and glared up at the man dressed in white in
front of him, violet eyes twinkling slightly in the moonlight.
 
“My, my, tantei-kun, still accepting calls in this position?” He whispered
sultrily, cracking a smirk, leaning in closer.
 
“KID, you fucking bastard,” The shorter teen growling, trying to will himself
further into the wall. This position was too uncomfortable for anyone’s liking.
 
“Ah, ah, Agent 4869; CONAN, let’s see if you’ll have the energy to scream that
later,” The messy-haired boy sneered, and forced Shinichi into a harsh, fast
and way too floppy kiss, with him running his tongue over the other’s teeth
possessively, and Shinichi squirmed under him, hands desperately clawing at the
taller’s chest in vain.
 
Shit, Shinichi’s thoughts hurdled, he’s too strong to push away, and my gun’s
by the side of the roof’s ledge.
 
His thoughts and careful considerations were jerked to a halt when a hand began
reaching down, and he hissed, and, without a moment’s hesitation, pulled his
ruffled hair as far back as he can, and slapped the boss as hard on the face as
he could.
 
The moment skin came in contact with skin, a sharp slap echoed across the roof,
and KID stumbled back, eyes sharpening, and holding a hand to his cheek.
 
“You little..”
 
Shinichi wiped his mouth hastily with his sleeve, and spat, “Some damn warning
would be appreciated before you come up and, oh, I don’t know, molest me?”
 
“Ah, did you know, tantei-kun, that personality of yours can be a huge turn-off
sometimes?” He stepped forward. Shinichi traced the wall with his hand and slid
to his right, towards his Type 56-1, and slowly shifted himself into a
defensive position.
 
And he blinked.
 
The guy disappeared.
 
“Shit-” His head snapped left and right, scanning furiously around the deserted
rooftop, winds howling. He paced towards his gun.
 
“Nuh-uh, Secret-Japanese-Police-san, I want to have my fun first before you,” A
breathy voice was carried with the breeze, and drifted into the agent’s ear,
and his blood ran cold, and whipped around immediately.
 
KID’s eyes shone like glittering jewels in front of him, one amethyst and the
other a rich sapphire, and Shinichi felt like he was drowning – suffocating –
in the hues, before his back crashed against the concrete, and if it wasn’t for
his protective reflexes, he’d have a concussion now.
 
Slender, calloused hands wasted no time tearing apart the dark blue jacket,
leaving a white dress shirt and it’s miniscule buttons, which the mafia boss
wasted no time prying apart with his teeth, and before Shinichi could
retaliate, and perhaps slap him a second time, his hands were pinned above his
head harmlessly, with just one hand and a crushing grip.
 
“What the hell – ah! – stop, d-dammit!”
 
The violet eyed seemingly payed no attention and licked and nipped viciously at
the pale collarbone, forcing the younger teen to suppress a whimper.
 
“If you don’t stop struggling, this’ll make it more painful.”
 
“What-”
 
Shinichi clamped his mouth as hard as he could to force back down a rising
moan, which he absolutely did not need the bastard hearing right now.
 
Fingers trailed down his backside, and caressed his buttocks, causing some
horrified thrashing and kicking.
 
The hand slithered back around to the front, and lifted the flaps of the dress
shirt up and began dragging down the zipper to reveal black boxers underneath.
This earned him a shriek of protest.
 
“Now, now, no need to rush, kitten.”
 
“Who the hell are you calling a ‘kitten’?!” The flushing agent snapped,
twisting his arms in an attempt to free himself.
 
The boss hummed in response, grip still firm on the wrists and sliding his gaze
down across the blue-eyed boy’s pale stomach, and maybe just a bit lower, and
back up again.
 
And he was applauding himself for his victory, and leaning forward in a
suggestive manner, when he was thrown off balance and onto his back, and the
chack of a gun was like thunder to his ears. It looked like his valient
struggling and pushing had bore some fruit, after all.
 
His hand still clutched onto the other’s wrists, but only one now, with a
hollow barrel of a gun in front of his face, and a smooth finger twitching on
the trigger. KID didn’t even have to see to know that the safety’s off.
 
“Game turned ‘round, boss,” Shinichi strained out the last word like a menace,
shifting his weight, and almost letting a yelp when his backside brushed across
the mafia’s leg.
 
“Oh? Still some fight left in you, I see.”
 
The gun shifted closer.
 
“Always did.”
 
And the glimmer in his eyes was so deep and enchanting and the sweat
glimmering, grin wide, that KID, without any second thoughts whatsoever, threw
his head upwards to lock his lips, at the same time, bodily dragging the
agent’s hips against his own hardening erection.
 
“Secret Police! Hands up!” The door slammed open with huge force, and green
eyes emerged, followed by reddish-oak. The former’s eyes were full of fury.
 
KID’s eyes flickered to the side. They’re here already, eh?
He quickly, and accurately pushed the smaller agent’s pressure points, and he
slumped into KID’s lap.
 
Hattori Heiji gritted his teeth, and lunged towards the two sprawled on the
floor in aggravation.
 
“You bitch, get off Ku-CONAN, bastard!”
 
“My, Agent 1313 ELLERY, getting possessive, hm?” KID sidestepped a lunge
towards him, but he could feel the close range of the grab. 1313’s known for
sharp movements and brash thinking, after all.
 
The blonde reappeared from behind the tanned teen, and was exteremerly close to
flipping the boss maliciously onto the ground. Shinichi swayed in his arms.
Learn how to counter motherfucking judo, KID growled to himself, and make
another point in his imaginary to-do list.
 
“Ah, 1528 WATSON, welcome, you’re here too,” KID beckoned. The tea-blonde
snarled and growled through his communicator, “1412, west roof exit, over.”
 
A vibration sounded through the messy-haired teen’s breast pocket, and he
glanced briefly behind him. Ah, there’s my helicopter, with Aoko too, he mused,
probably’ll scream at me until I’ll be deaf.
 
“Well, then, dearest company, unfortunately I must take my leave,” He whistled
as he grabbed onto the wooden rope-ladder, “Ciao! Don’t forget to send tantei-
kun my best wishes!” He winked for good measure, and the whirring of the
chopper blades accompanied the distancing of the rooftop, although, from the
earpiece, he could hear curses picked up right and left by the bugs he planted.
 
“That damn flambouyant-”
 
“Son of a bitch, oi, Kudou, wake up, ya dope, did he do anything to you?”
 
“Hattori, we should prioritize getting Kudou-kun back to the base and let him
rest, then allow him to add to our available information about KID.”
 
“Ugh, where am- Shit, where the fuck’s KID, that bastard-!” Shinichi’s voice
turned panicky and frustrated.
 
“I take my words back,” Saguru mumbled.
 
“Woah, woah, Kudou, breathe an’ tell us, just how the fuck did that guy even
got to lay a hand on you, much less get you groped an’ molested.”
 
 
“..I’m never drinking my coffee before checking to see if it’s drugged or not.”
 
-.-.-
 
Omake
 
“Hattori, I’m getting a location from the tracker Kudou-kun’s got on him,”
Saguru huffed, climbing up the stairs and gaze scanning over his phone’s
screen.
 
“Rooftop?”
 
“Rooftop.”
 
“Oi, hang on, I’m getting noises from the bug on him too,” Heiji skidded to a
stop, and held a hand over his ear.
 
Static crackled, followed by various restrained whimpers and protests,
undoubtly Shinichi’s.
 
“…”
 
“.. I had a dream the other day, an’ for the record, KID cubes on a kebab stick
does sound pretty tasty right now, no cannibal.”
Chapter End Notes
     Heiji's codename, ELLERY, is a reference to Ellery Queen, who Heiji
     favours, as opposed to Shinichi.
     The code-numbers for Heiji, Kaito and Shinichi are pretty self-
     explanatory, but I'll make notes about them anyways.
     4869 - a reference to the Apotoxin.
     1313 - 13 is considered unlucky in Western culture, and repeat the
     numbers, and voilà, Heiji's luck!
     1412 - pretty self-explanatory
     Saguru's code-number doesn't have any loopholes, unluckily for him.
***** Kaito/Shinichi – “A death god lives in my garage.” *****
Chapter Summary
     Kaito always knew that each and every garage was haunted. It isn't
     always caused by ghosts though.
Chapter Notes
     Was inspired by the book Skellig by David Almond, although the
     drabble plot’s been tweaked and fit into the canon so much it only
     barely resembles David’s //breathesheavily
      
     And also, in this AU, KID doesn’t exist and Toichi still breathes,
     just to make things run smoother.
Drabble 14
Kaito/Shinichi – “A death god lives in my garage.”
Chapter warnings: Mild character death (?)
---
 
At the beginning of winter, the Kuroba household of three moved into a new two-
storey house, just at the other end of their original street, during the frosty
days and harsh, early nights.
 
“Kaito, you are never touching the stove in this new home, do you understand
me?”
 
“Yes, mom.”
 
Nearing the end of winter, Kuroba Chikage was found to be five months pregnant.
 
“We should make a name for the baby now, don’t you think so too, dear?” Chikage
cooed.
 
Kuroba Toichi slowly looked up from his Sherlock Holmes novel with raised
eyebrows.
 
A week later, Kuroba Kaito wheezed in laughter, eyes bright with hilarity and
sparkling indigo.
 
“What kinda name is Conan, mom?!”
 
Weeks before the beginning of spring, the awakening of Persephone, baby Conan
was born a dangerous two and a half months premature.
 
During the primary health check, he was diagnosed with severe congenital heart
disease.
 
-.-.-
 
“Oh, Kaito, there should be spare cardboard boxes in the basement, would you
mind getting some?”
 
“Sure, dad.”
 
Kaito spun his yellow torch around by the cord, and hummed as he made his way
down the stairs, fingers brushing the railing, as he twisted the doorknob, to
reveal darkness and a puff of dust hastily waved away.
 
Their family didn’t use the basement much, but kept spare and left over
gardening equipment and miscellaneous items stored away down here.
 
Kaito peered around as he switched on the torch with a small click.
Cockroaches scurried back into the remaining cracks of darkness they could
find, and everywhere the brunette swept his long beam of light, dust settled
and old bits and pieces could be found here and there.
 
Cardboard, cardboard, he reminded himself repeatedly.
 
So it was unexpected, when all he came down for was storage boxes, that he
whipped his head around at the small cough from one of the far corners.
 
“Who’s there?” He hissed, narrowing his eyes to peer into the gloom. He treaded
a few steps forward and found a figure, curled in around itself, with dark,
matted hair a pale complexion, wincing as he shielded himself from the light,
covering his eyes – dark eye bags – with a bony hand. A funny cowlick stood up
from his head.
 
“Who are you?” The standing boy growled, hairs standing on end. The boy across
from him looked no older than him, but was dangerously underweight and weak.
 
“Get out,” He whispered, “Outsider.”
 
“Outsider?” Kaito echoed, but moved his torch to the wall behind the boy, in
fear of blinding him.
 
“Go away,” The boy glared, dusty blue eyes glaring, and rustling his black
coat, and attempted to stand up, but slumped down, staggering and heaving.
 
“Woah, are you oka-”
 
“Get out.”
 
And Kaito shivered, feeling the air around him dampen and drop to a lower
temperature, and took a measly step backwards.
 
“Look, if you need help, I can help, are you okay?” The taller boy held his
hands up in an attempt to communicate.
 
“You..” The cowlicked boy breathed, before clutching his chest is pain and
gasping, gripping a nearby pipe.
 
“Hey, hey, are you really okay?” Kaito abandoned his torch, flinging it to the
side, and rushed forward to catch the wavering boy.
 
“Don’t touch me-!”
 
“You’re damn sick!”
 
“If you touch m-me, you’ll die,” He strained out, leaving a wide-eyed Kaito
before slumping to the ground out cold, breaths still ragged.
 
“Woah,” Kaito honestly didn’t know how to act at this stage. He reached for his
torch and approached the boy. He was frail, weak, and looked like he hadn’t
touched food for ages.
 
Food, Kaito realised, he needs food.
 
-.-.-
 
He held two boxes of Chinese takeaway in hand, and scampered down the stairs,
flinging open the door, and turned to the wall the wide-eyed blue-eyed boy sat
at.
 
“I’ve got you food, eat up,” Kaito stated, tone completely serious.
 
“Why would I trust you?” He growled back.
 
“Everything about you says you’re unwell, unfed and neglected, eat first then
we’ll talk later.”
 
The boy looked up and caught a whiff of nourishment, before eyes brightened,
and nodded, but still carrying hesitation. Whenever Kaito shuffled forward, he
seemed to be trying to will himself into the wall behind him, and Kaito
eventually gave up and placed to boxes to the side and stepped back, and let
him feed himself.
 
“First of all what’s your name?”
 
He paused, half chewing a dim sim, “..Shin..”
 
“Shin?” Kaito cocked an eyebrow, and crossed his legs.
 
“..Shinichi,” He huffed before breaking apart the wooden chopsticks and
bringing mouthfuls of noodle to his mouth.
 
“Where are you from?” The brunette queried.
 
That was the question that obviously threw him for the loop, and he froze,
before looking up and shaking his head, “You shouldn’t ask, you mortals
shouldn’t know.”
 
“Huh?” Kaito didn’t dig into the issue any further.
 
“I’m done.”
 
“Wait, what? It hasn’t even been five minutes-!”
 
“Is there a problem?”
Kaito laughed, “Kudos to you, and your appetite. Even I can’t eat that fast.”
 
“..Kudos?” Shinichi cocked his head slightly.
 
“Ah, it means to applaud you for something you’ve done, or something like
that,” He ran his hand through his ruffled hair, before taking the cartons and
standing up to leave.
 
“Thank you for the food,” Shinichi whispered.
 
The other turned his head around, and cracked a smile, “Anytime, you can stay
here for a bit more and I’ll bring some more food tomorrow,” He chucked his
torch over, and the boy caught it with ease, inspecting it, “So you don’t get
frightened in the dark.”
 
And with that, he shut the door.
 
-.-.-
 
“Hakuba, can you come here for a sec?”
 
The blonde turned around and stared at the asker warily, “Is this one of your
tricks again?” His voice cracked.
 
“No, I’m actually serious, come here, I need your help,” Kaito stated, voice
low and glancing around at the other students in the library.
 
Saguru narrowed his eyes, but stepped forward anyways. Over the years, he’s
learnt that, you’re usually better off if you act willing to Kaito than if you
run.
 
“What would you do if a person takes refuge in your basement and is apparently
sick, malnourished and paranoid?”
 
“..What? Kuroba, is this a loophole?” Saguru fully expected for the other teen
to crack a smirk and hit him over the head with a dye bomb or something equally
awful, but he didn’t expect him to massage the tip of his nose and groan in
desperation.
 
“I’m serious, I don’t know what to do, and I’m afraid if I report him to the
police, he might get dangerous and shit,” The messy-haired teen sighed, voice
laced with sincerity.
 
Saguru frowned, “You make him sound dangerous, is he?”
 
“I haven’t experienced it firsthand yet, but he’s got a sort of an aura hanging
around him, and it’s heavy, and..” He tried to consider his words, “Deathly, in
a way? He doesn’t act completely normal either.”
 
Saguru furrowed his brows. Kaito actually is being dead serious right now, and
his curious instincts are screaming at him to at least take a look.
 
“Take me to your home after school; I’ll see what I can do.”
 
-.-.-
 
“Shinichi.”
 
The boy in question’s head snapped upwards.
“You bought others here..?”
 
Kaito realised that he hadn’t given his own name yet, “Kuroba Kaito, and this
is Hakuba Saguru, my.. classmate,” He gestured to the blonde behind him.
 
Shinichi gave a small wave then began to pick at the hems of his coat again.
 
“Ah, Shinichi-san, can I ask you a few questions?” Saguru coughed. He earned a
cautious nod in response.
 
“Look, before you ask anything, I’m not human,” He hissed, sending a wave of
frost into the air, “And,” He sighed, “Since I do owe Kaito for him bringing me
food, I’m a …minor deity, a death god.”
 
The latter part of the sentence was spoken so quietly the other two strained
their ears to catch it.
 
“Come again?” Saguru couldn’t believe his ears.
 
Shinichi’s blue orbs sharpened, “I’m not repeating it, you heard me damn well.”
 
“Okay, I’m going to trust that you won’t harm us, since if you did want to, you
would’ve killed me ages ago,” Kaito proceeded rather cautiously, “What are you
doing in my basement?”
 
The shorter boy turned his head away, “..I was banished here, because I
ridiculed Sonoko, a high-ranking goddess,” He almost growled.
 
“Woah, way to royalty,” Kaito muttered, earning a pointed glare from Saguru.
The brunette froze when he actually let the earlier phrases – ‘death god’,
‘minor deity’ – and he whispered, “Can you save my brother?”
 
Saguru looked at the boy in confusion, obviously didn’t catch the sentence, but
the ragged boy did, and his eyes were filled with a mixture of pity,
consideration and understanding.
 
“I can’t.”
 
A silence lingered, the Kaito inhaled, “..Why not?! He’s not dead, he’s just
got a heart disease-!”
 
“I can’t touch anything with a life force, and I can’t even get out of this
goddamn room!” He screamed back, causing the others to flinch.
 
“But if I bring him to you, you can try, right?”
 
“I can’t guarantee anything, Kaito.”
 
“We can try.”
 
-.-.-
 
“Mom, what do you mean I can’t carry Conan anywhere anymore?”
 
“I’m sorry Kaito, his heart’s getting weaker and weaker, and unfamiliar
movement might speed up his heart and risk a failure.”
 
-.-.-
 
“Shinichi, I can’t, Conan’s getting weaker,” Kaito whispered, heaving a heavy
sigh.
 
“I see,” Shinichi’s voice was soft with sympathy.
 
“He’s dying, and none of us can do anything. We can’t even take him to the
hospital without risking a heart attack on the way there. The doctors are
coming on a daily basis.”
 
Shinichi said nothing to reply.
 
“You’re a god, I don’t care how minor you are, but isn’t there something you
can do?!” Kaito pleaded, voice pitching upwards near the end of the sentence.
 
Shinichi growled and his eyes blazed.
 
“Do you think I’m not doing anything onpurpose?! I can’t, Kaito, I can’t. Sure,
I can cure his disease, but I’m stationary here! Whenever I touch the door or
any wall other than this one, it repels me back! I want to see the sunlight and
the outside as well-!” He spat, standing up, and sending ripples of luminance
and deep, rich blue throughout the room, shaking it to the core. His eyebrows
were furrowed, and his eyes glowed sapphire with anger.
 
“S-Shinichi!” What are you doing?”
 
“What am I doing?!” He growled, “You-”
 
And his energy died down, the room fading into darkness once more, and he
slumped with his back against the wall, heaving.
 
“Shit, I used too much ener- Kaito, you – shit, don’t touch me, you’ll die,
like everyone else I’ve touched!”
 
But Kaito didn’t even pause to consider the warning, and caught the deity in
his arms without second consideration.
 
“Too late, I’ve already got you,” Kaito grinned, and Shinichi scrambled out of
his arms and onto the floor, and scanned Kaito’s arms up and down.
 
“I’m fine.”
 
“You shouldn’t be, not when you’ve touched me,” Shinichi hissed, backing away,
“Get out, now.”
 
“Shinichi-”
 
“Get. Out.”
 
And he found himself repelled towards the basement door and fallen on his
backside outside the blasted-open door. The door slammed by itself.
 
Shinichi, in the dark and all alone, started to cry.
 
-.-.-
 
“He’s an extraordinary being, Kuroba, based on what he believes he can do to
living things yesterday and what he’s personally told me,” Saguru shook his
head in disbelief. Before all this, he hadn’t even remotely believed in gods,
goddesses and any beliefs before.
 
Kaito sighed for a multitude of times that day and still counting, and twirled
his noodles around his chopsticks.
 
“I’ve never felt what he’s feeling right now, but I can imagine it,” He hummed,
tune void of emotion.
 
“..Is your brother okay?”
 
Kaito turned with dull eyes, and lowered his head.
 
“They say he won’t survive for another week.”
 
-.-.-
 
In the duration of the week, Kaito delivered the death god in his basement food
in silence, and was returned with silence as well. Both parties didn’t say
anything. There wasn’t anything to say.
 
On the fifth day, Kaito decided to speak up first.
 
“My brother’s going to die after tomorrow,” His voice cracked.
 
“Ah.”
 
“I was actually really excited for a brother, someone I could teach my pranks
to, and have him follow me around, and I had always thought that he’d grow up,
always younger than me, and likely die after me, but this,” He croaked, “This
is just all fucked up,” He closed his eyes, “He still has his whole life in
front of him.”
 
There was no reply, nothing to be said, so Kaito stood up, brushed off the
imaginary dust on his shirt, and left without another word.
 
-.-.-
 
On the sixth day, Shinichi wasn’t there.
 
Kaito called Saguru with a desperate tone in his voice; Shinichi was already
someone precious to him. His brother may as well be dead now, and Kaito
couldn’t bare to lose another precious person.
 
“He’s not here,” Saguru wheezed at the dust.
 
“Keep looking, he has to be somewhere.”
 
The basement was confirmed empty, nothing but dust mites and cockroaches and
dead insects. In desperation, they searched through the other parts of the
house, and Kaito thanked whichever deity of luck it was that his parents were
out at work.
 
Up above, the god Kid sneezed.
 
“Not the kitchen, bathrooms or lounge, check the bedrooms,” Kaito barked,
though more to himself than both of them.
 
Kaito, Chikage and Toichi’s room all turned up empty and isolated.
 
“..Shit, Conan’s room.”
 
And they found him there, standing over the crib, eyes tender and tinged with
sympathy. He glided three fingers over the baby’s forehead, and then looked at
his fingers.
 
“Shini-”
 
“Ah, you guys found me,” Shinichi looked up and stepped away from the baby’s
resting area, “Should’ve known.”
 
“How..?” Saguru sputtered.
 
Shinichi looked over the other two teens, then to Conan, who was sleeping
soundly, then at himself, “Somehow.”
 
“That’s awfully vague, Shinichi,” Kaito squinted, was it just his imagination
or was the cowlicked boy fading?
 
“Ah, yes, sorry sorry, that’s just a habit of mine. You won’t need to know,
anyways,” He smiled sadly and placed his hands behind his back, “Because I’m
going now.”
 
“W-what? Wait, Shinichi-!” Kaito reached towards the slowly transparent figure,
skin now alabaster, as his words were caught on his tongue, “I-”
 
“I love you too, Kaito,” Shinichi breathed, laughing and opening his arms
towards the violet-eyed teen, “See you.”
 
“Shini-” Kaito grabbed at Shinichi’s arms, but he blinked, and there was
nothing.
 
Nothing but the dust and ashes left in the god’s presence along with his
ringing laughter.
 
-.-.-
 
Two years have passed.
 
Kaito hummed and watched Conan fiddle with his rose, with a small pout on his
face as he wrinkles his nose and tries to see how his older brother flicked it
out of his hand when they were both wearing singlets.
 
Conan grew up in the last two long years to be a carbon copy of Shinichi. It
made sense, Kaito reasoned, as Shinichi was the one who gave his life force to
Conan to let him live.
 
But it didn’t help the pain lessen.
 
Kaito had tried to forget the face, multiple times, even, but he couldn’t, not
when the said face was appearing in his daily life at least three times a day.
He’d given up ever since.
So it was just a lazy autumn morning, when his cell phone rung. He peered over
and scowled in distaste at the sight of the caller ID.
 
He picked it up nonetheless.
 
“Hakuba? What does a prick like you need-”
 
“Kuroba, get over to Ekoda police station now,” Saguru’s voice was tight and
demanding, with a hint of disbelief.
 
“Woah, woah, calm down, what happened?” Kaito blinked.
 
The two have started to trust each other in situations like this just a bit
more, ever since the boy in the basement.
 
“You wouldn’t believe this,” The blonde growled from the other end of the line,
“But you have to come. He’s not staying for much longer.”
 
“’He?’ Oi, Hakuba!” Kaito yelled into his cell, but Saguru already hung up.
Sighing, he closed the piece of plastic and turned to his younger brother, who
was staring at him with curious blue eyes, and for a second, déjà vu sent a
shiver down his spine.
 
He brushed it off without too much thought.
 
“Hey, tantei-kun,” Kaito began, and Conan perked up at his nickname, “I’ve got
to go out for a bit, stay safe, ‘kay?”
 
“Yes, nii-chan.”
 
-.-.-
 
He spotted Saguru talking to another boy the same age from the moment he walked
into the station. The blonde colouring is pretty hard to miss in a place like
Japan.
 
“Oi, Hakuba, what are you-” Kaito stopped mid-sentence. The brunette boy beside
the half-brit turned at regarded Kaito with curious blue eyes.
 
Kaito instead, saw the flames and fury, all mixed with ablinding rich blue,
sending out blasting waves throughout the room, temperature distinctly
dropping.
 
“Ah, you must be Kuroba-kun, Hakuba-kun was just mentioning you,” He held out a
hand and let out a twitch of his lips upwards – a smile.
 
Kaito, breath stopped momentarily, saw a gentle yet sorrowful upwards turn of
the lips, and arms held out as if to gesture him into a hug, and the laughter
echoed in his ears.
 
Saguru, eyeing the two, desperately motioned out to his classma– friend – and
mouthed a silent, yet, to Kaito, a crashing down to earth, he doesn’t remember.
 
So Kaito could do nothing except take the hand weakly into a shake. The suited
boy looked earnestly into his eyes.
 
“I’m Kudou Shinichi, detective. It’s our first time meeting, isn’t it?”
 
***** Heiji/Shinichi & Kaito/Shinichi – “Greyscale.” *****
Chapter Summary
     Somewhere along the line, Kudou Shinichi stares into the mirror to
     find that he doesn't recognise the colour of his own eyes anymore.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Drabble 15
Heiji/Shinichi & Kaito/Shinichi – “Greyscale.”
Chapter warnings: Angst and jealousy
---
 
Sometimes, when Shinichi stops and closes his eyes, in the darkness, the pitch
black, he sees Ran, from that night, with a bullet wound in her forehead and
blood splurting down her face.
He hears the screams of the people he could’ve saved, but he hadn’t. The
darkness envelops him, and draws him in, until he can see nothing but greyscale
in the once-colourful world.
 
His dreams are filled with death, empty and hollow, and his voice resounds
against the invisible walls that he feels, but can’t see. It feels like he’s
gone blind and deaf at the same time, and it frightens him to no end.
He’s trapped in these visions, trapped and with nowhere to hide himself.
 
He tries to reassure himself that he’s fine; that he’s living a normal life
now, and Gin’s dead, shot in the heart by the detective himself, with a
forceful and vengeful bang.
But he looks at his hands and he traced the life lines along his palms,
absentmindedly wondering about the dangerously short length of the lines, but
soon after, he brushes the thoughts away like a stray fly.
 
And day by day, he’s more lost than ever, and sometimes, he’s still waiting in
front of the Mouri detective agency for the smiling brunette, to find that he’s
late for class and that his childhood friend isn’t climbing down the stairs to
join him, and never will be again.
It wrenches at his heart, but he forces his legs to walk, and pastes a mask
onto his entire being all over again, regardless of if he can breathe in it or
not.
 
University was similar to high school to no end, and Shinichi finds himself
sometimes taking out his Teitan uniform from his wardrobe, before shaking his
head and placing it back with care.
And he found, at one of the social justice lectures, Hattori Heiji waving him
over, apparently gotten into the same university. The Osakan grinned at the
sight of his eastern counterpart, but it soon faded when he caught sight of
Shinichi’s eyes.
 
They were blank. A once-rich deep sapphire the western detective has come to
love was faded, the ocean itself washed away.
 
Heiji knew something was wrong when his best friend didn’t contact him for up
to months at a time, but he let it go, with the gut feeling telling him that he
shouldn’t pry.
 
He’s regretting that now.
 
Day after day, he sees the boy grow weaker, but still forcing a smile. He’s
even forced the boy to try to eat, by stuffing a spoonful of coffee-flavoured
ice-cream down his throat, but he refused to swallow.
 
Heiji doesn’t know what to do.
 
He’s at the library during the break, looking through textbooks on insomnia and
digestive disorders, and he spots a boy.
 
Well, that’s a plain way to put the fact out, isn’t it?
 
The boy, engaging in talk with Saguru, could even be passed off as Shinichi’s
identical twin, save for the birds nest hair, and the sightly indigo orbs
filled and flickering with life and mischief.
He stands there in front of the shelf dumbfounded and finger still resting on a
medical workbook’s spine, gaping slightly, until the Shinichi-lookalike comes
up to him and waves a hand in front of his face.
 
“You alright there?” He whistles, and Heiji snaps out of his shock, and gives a
nervous laugh.
 
“I’m fine, ya just look like someone I know,” He replies.
 
The teen raises both eyebrows, before his expression converted to exasperation,
“Sheesh, do I look so much like this Kudou person everyone talks about?” He
waves an idle hand around.
 
“Ah, sort of, does everyone say the same thing?” Heiji asked, eyes scanning
back over the medical section.
 
“Pretty much,” He huffs, and grins, “Kuroba Kaito, at your service,” He winks
and a white rose pops out from his hand. It throws Heiji for a second.
 
“Woah, woah, ya swing that way?” Heiji teased, and Kaito pastes a hurt puppy
face on, “Geez, sorry, I’m Hattori Heiji. Heiji’s fine, I’m pretty informal.”
 
“You from Osaka?”
 
“Hell yep. Great place, it is,” The Osakan hums, and crouches down to the lower
shelves to resume his book search.
 
“Medical workbooks?” Kaito crouches down too, “You a med student?”
 
“No, it’s just..” Heiji pauses, picking at his words, “My friend’s pretty
sick.”
 
“Kudou?” Kaito takes a wild guess, and his new tanned friend turns around to
look at him with bemused eyes.
 
“How did ya know?” He asks with some decent amount of curiosity.
 
“Well, rumours all say you two are pretty much stuck at the hip,” Kaito
laughed, and boy, Heiji thinks, does it sound like Shinichi years ago.
 
“Wait, what?! Seriously?” Heiji turned, flustered, “No, we’re just best buds,
after all the shit and.. yeah!” He stammered eloquently.
 
Kaito wriggled an eyebrow, “What did you two go through?”
 
“Good afternoon, Hattori-kun,” Saguru walked over, Hound of Baskervilles in
hand. Heiji twitched at the voice, “Just great.”
 
“Oi, isn’t that Kudou?” Kaito gestured over to one of the further areas,
towards a skinny boy and his signature cowlick, sitting at one of the tables
and a thick history textbook open on the desk. His complexion
screamedmalnourished, and his eyes tired, lurking with unspoken fears.
 
“Oh.. yeah, it is,” Heiji’s voice dropped to a whisper. Something inside him
lurched, seeing the formerly enthusiastic friend in such a state, and it was as
overwhelming as the number of deaths Shinichi averagely encounters every week.
 
“He doesn’t look too well, does he?” Saguru asked voice low, but his tone
suggested that the question didn’t need any answer. There was nothing to answer
with.
 
-.-.-
 
Kaito hasn’t seen his favourite detective, the one that could give him the most
thrills, and the one with an unspoken pact with since a year ago. He scans over
the crowd every full moon, but finds no sign of the shrunken-then-reverted
detective. He still sees his face in the paper, so the thief’s convinced that
the boy’s safe.
 
But not necessarily healthy.
 
Sometimes, he has the screaming and kicking urge to just storm fort into the
Kudou Mansion and force feed the boy, or drug him to make him go to sleep for a
decent while, but he holds back. Something like that won’t reverse the Mouri
girl’s murder. He holds back because he thinks it’s none of his business.
 
He holds back.
 
Kaito knocks on Shinichi’s dorm room on a Saturday (And just next door, too),
and waits. The door opens almost lazily, and out steps the detective he hasn’t
seen for almost two years. Shinichi greets Kaito with a smile, “Come in.”
 
“Ah, Kudou-kun, I have some questions about the law exam we did the other day,
and I heard you’re one of top scorers,” He chirped, but he could feel his
exaggerated smile hurting around the sides.
 
“Oh, yes from last week, right?” He replied, walking over to a shelf where,
Kaito guesses, he keeps his work.
 
“Yes,” He replies stiffly, looking around the detective’s room. It’s kept neat,
almost to the point of plain, and the smell of black coffee lingers around the
room.
 
The rest of the evening drifted through like passing scenery, and Kaito slipped
little questions in every now and then, acting simply out of curiosity.
Shinichi answers some with ease, others with a slight uncertainty.
 
Kaito turned these answers over and over in his head, as his own doorknob to
his room clicked.
 
-.-.-
 
Shinichi wonders.
 
The boy just then – Kuroba Kaito, was it? – bore an uncanny resemblance to
someone he’s sure he’s met before.
 
Sure, he had quite the shock when he first knocked on his door, seeing his
doppelganger standing there with an expression hinted with worry.
Of course, he noticed the questions fired, but he answers them anyway.
Something about the boy makes him trust him. He’s not sure if it’s these eyes
that bore into him, with a warm familiarity, or the cheerful demeanour.
And he sits crosslegged on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, and he realizes,
as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, that the heavy weight constantly
sitting on his back was lighter now, and he feels just a tiny bit more free
than before.
 
He smiles, and it feels wonderful, like picking up an old, greyscale photo
album, full of memories.
 
-.-.-
 
Heiji, in the next few weeks, can’t help but notice Shinichi slowly crawling
out of his shell, and smiling more, air around him no longer so silent and
deathly, and he’s secretly so grateful to Kaito, who invests the time and
effort he does into helping his friend.
 
So when he’s walking through a shortcut to his favourite ramen shop, he freezes
dead in his tracks.
Across from him, around the corner, Kaito’s pushing Shinichi into a kiss. The
younger’s clawing at the magician’s arms, and his protests muffled.
 
And Heiji’s thoughts blank.
 
Before he knows, he’s dropped everything and stormed up to the brunette and
lands a fist square in the cheek. The latter flinches and slams onto the
ground, before he twitches when he looks up.
 
“Heiji.”
 
“Kuroba,” The Osakan lets the poison drip from his voice, “What do you think
you’re doing?”
 
The boy on the ground lets out a shuddering sigh, and holds his hands up, “I
can.. explain.”
 
“Doesn’t cut it,” Heiji growls, before turning to his self-proclaimed best
friend and wincing. His eyes were wide and grey – empty – again.
 
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Kaito whispers low, hand moving away from his
cheek, before glancing up with a little, regretful smile and pulling himself
up, “Forgive me, tantei-han?”
 
Shinichi’s head snaps up with ferocious speed, “KI-”
 
“Shit, you were – all along!” Heiji roared, lunging at the Ekodan, but he was
sidestepped, and when he turned, Kaito’s smile was still there, but there was
no humor.
 
“See you.”
 
And both the Beikan and Osakan saw pink smoke, before looking up again to find
the alley empty.
 
-.-.-
 
Throughout the week, Shinichi was in a daze. Kaito was sick all week long, in
his dorm, and he even screamed at Saguru – his roommate by unlucky
circumstances – to get out, so the blonde had no choice but to crash at his
neighbour’s dorm, which happens to be Shinichi’s, and since he’s rooming alone,
he welcomes his blonde companion in.
 
“I really don’t comprehend what has gotten into Kuroba,” Saguru sighs while
taking a sip from his cup of Earl Grey, and looks over to Heiji, who insisted
to come, scrolling through the news on his phone, and Shinichi.
 
Shinichi sits on the sofa, absentmindedly clicking through the channels in
rapid succession.
 
“And we have a spare-”
“Welcome to the Junior Masterchef-”
“So this, folks, is how you eat a sausage-”
“Kaitou KID was shot today at his newest heist-”
“At Bunnings Warehouse-”
 
“Holy shit, Kaitou KID was shot-!” Heiji slammed his palm onto the wooden
table, staring at his phone screen, while Saguru and Shinichi both stared at
the television in disbelief.
 
The footage replayed to show KID – no, Kaito, - holding a red glimmer of a gem
against the moonlight (Saguru swears the Ocean Sapphire is blue), before he
jerks violently and titters over the edge, limp.
Shinichi sat rigid.
 
“Police have found the body and forensics have confirmed that the mighty
Phantom Thief is not breathing, sustaining a sniper bullet in the lungs.
Nakamori-keibu has confirmed that KID’s identity is indeed…”
 
And Shinichi slumps back against the couch, sound fading, light fading.
 
And the world gradually plunges into greyscale again.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Okay that was hard on the soul I'm sorry if I shaved a, what, ten
     years, off your lives?
***** Gosho Boys/Shinichi & Ran/Shinichi – “Words of the Farthest Ends.” *****
Chapter Summary
     And they forge on without an end in mind, trying to pick up the
     pieces of their crumbling world, always with the shadows creeping in
     their footsteps
Chapter Notes
     AKA THE NOT-DRABBLE OF 5K+ WORDS.
     Also, I guess this could count as a songfic..?
     Lyrics are translated from the Japanese song Words of the Farthest
     Ends by Yuuhei Satellite.
     Youtube vid: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poVbnVWd4ns
     Translation credits to AmenTranslations from WordPress
     Also, this is set in the Chain Chronicle game ‘verse, but may contain
     spoilers for the storyline. If anyone wants my referral code, just
     ask in the comments.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Drabble 16
Gosho Boys/Shinichi & Ran/Shinichi – “Words of the Farthest Ends.”
Chapter warnings: GIANT plot holes that I’m not bothered to patch, and angst.
---
 
Down from the sky the variety of sounds of the “end”, s hroud the world, and
resounds through the air.
 
Kaito’s breath grew ragged and heavy, his magic’s hue and brightness paling
with every shot towards the monsters. The rabid clashing of swords and weapons
and damn schreeching and howling was burning into his ears.
Saguru, behind him, looked no better. His blonde hair was tussled and wild, and
his arms shook like a leaf in the wind, yet his arrows never gave up
confidence, as he reached back into his quiver for a new batch. The
determination of a Ranger. Kaito grimaced and turned back towards the
battlefield. This damn Black Army really doesn’t give up, do they? He gritted.
 
He hears Heiji’s roars in the midst of the black-cloaked creatures, anger and
fury lashing out with every slash of his sword and the echoes of the metal of
his shield.
He hears Ran, wild like a hurricane, long, dark hair a blur, her fist weapons a
blur, but her injuries can’t last her much longer than this. Soldiers weren’t
made to withstand heavy damage, unlike Heiji, a Knight, who looks to be
sporting a cracked rib and a wound on his leg.
 
This leads Kaito, as he pauses to catch his breath and let his luminance supply
replenish, to glance worriedly at Shinichi, and his brows furrowed and
breathing heavy with every raise of his staff.
The boy was tired, no doubt, but had to be near the middle of the field, in
front of Kaito and Saguru, to let his healing range reach the other two.
Shinichi’s always felt useless, unable to do anything but heal, heal, heal.
Kaito gently reminds him that he’s a Cleric, and he’s saved their asses so many
times already with his skills.
Words of the farthest ends. I wish for the time when I can say them.
 
Sometimes, the Magician wants to reach out to the Cleric and let him into his
arms, and caress him, whisper to him that they’ll be fine, that Shinichi’s just
dragging himself down, that he’s special to the entire team.
 
That he’s special to Kaito.
 
But he can’t, not when the world’s like this and when everything can crumble at
a slight touch, and innocent people dying almost every hour.
So every night, when he sees the sun dying out on the mountains and hill, and
night engulfing them, he heaves a sigh and stares out, wondering how they even
survived to this point in time.
 
The life of this planet, Will likely come to its final breath with us together
won’t it..?
 
“This world is dying, slowly from the inside out.”
 
He’s come to say that phrase more times than he’s cared to imagine, but he does
admit, if Heiji, Shinichi, Ran and, even Saguru weren’t here, he won’t have
much to live for, really.
 
His father was his joy and everyday and his life. He admired the 5-star
Magician, the leader of his guild. He learnt tricks and tips and all kinds of
fascinating things with his father, while his mother smiled with fond
exasperation. His old life was almost perfect, for him at least.
 
Then came the Black Army, the murders and the unknown, monsters, goblins,
skeletons and all kinds of the supernatural appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
Toichi was called out to the field regularly, to support the Holy Queen and the
Holy Capital, even when the Kuroba family resided in the Vice Capital.
While I let out a sigh, You’re now, far off, a small figure in the distance.
 
Day by day, his father grew weary. Bags formed under his eyes, and his voice
had an old, worn tone to it.
Kaito noticed, and so did Chikage. His mother even tried to convince her
husband to stay back with Yuusaku, their Cleric friend, to heal, but the
Magician just shook his head quietly.
 
“People out there are dying, Chikage, darling. I need to do what I can. I need
to do all this so when Kaito becomes a Magician himself, he can eventually see
the world’s beauties rather than it’s abnormalities and monstrosity.”
 
And so, Toichi grew more and more distant, further and further away, until one
day, he was gone without a trace.
 
Rather than instinct, reason took the lead.
 
And Kaito and Chikage mourned and grieved, knowing that he’s lost, that he
might be dead, or he might have been taken a prisoner by the Black Army. It
wounded the two to no end, but they moved one, afraid to stitch up the gash on
their hearts in fear that their memory of Toichi will be lost while doing so.
 
And the monsters dared set their beady, red eyes on the Vice Capital, their
home.
They were everywhere, lurking everywhere, like a mould, undisturbed and
gradually spreading out and along the wall without resistance. It was like a
disease, spreading, and blackening everything around it and leaving a trail of
mourning and loss and destruction in its wake.
 
Kaito hated them.
 
He trained, day and night, and hoped that he could reach his father’s level,
and maybe avenge him, and maybe eradicate the beasts that surely took Kuroba
Toichi’s life. He grit his teeth and continued straining himself, and pushing
to his limits until he couldn’t anymore, and Chikage came and laid a blanket on
the dozing boy and glanced back with worrisome eyes.
After all, there was no one Kaito came to admire and worship more than his
father.
 
And it was just such an explosive irony that he’s ended up killing Toichi by
his own spells.
 
He found the former Magician on the fifth day of the monster invasion on their
district in the Vice Capital, and neither Kuroba could believe their eyes as
they froze.
The head of the family was made into the monsters, dead and eyes lifeless, but
could still be recognised. He carried himself along in a grotesque manner, and,
along the other monsters storming the area, he was headed right for the boy and
his mother.
 
So Kaito, he closed his eyes, and fired his father’s powerful, former spell at
the creator himself, and couldn’t bare to unplug his ears to hear the inhumane
screeching and howling from the entity.
 
He could still feel the many others of the same kind, possibly once human,
headed towards them. They howl, and the gust of wind lets Kaito know that
they’re pouncing. Ready to kill. Bloodthirsty.
 
And when he finally opens his eyes again, he sees an angel.
 
A boy his age, with a healing staff – clearly a cleric – holding his weapon up
against the inhumanity and struggled to overcome the strength on him. He looked
back with blue, blue, worried eyes.
 
“You alright?” He asks, before gritting and turning to the black being in front
of him, “Shit,” He whispers.
 
“Mou, Dammit Shinichi, stop running off-!” A girl, long and flowy blown hair,
maybe slightly older than the two, came rushing up and drew her sword with a
swift, fluid motion, and sliced clean through the monster with ease. It
crumpled to the ground, and it’s companions retreat, sensing a threat.
 
Chikage fainted, while Kaito slumped to the ground, unsure whether it was from
fear or relief.
Ever since that time when I burned with love there have remained no chances to
speak these words.
 
And so, as the years wore by, flowing without pause, Kaito left his home,
promising his mother that he’s still send letters via his messenger doves (A
Kuroba family tradition).
He joined up with the boy who saved his life – Shinichi – and Ran, both he’s so
deeply in debt for.
He sees deep, lurking shadows in both of their eyes. He’s aware of the own
darkness behind his violet orbs as well, so silent sympathy and understanding
is shared. He doesn’t speak for any longer than necessary about any of their
pasts.
 
And he’s begun to grow attached to them.
 
He doesn’t even realise it. It’s a bit like how one day you wake up, stare and
stare up at the ceiling and realise that you’ve already lived for so long.
But he doesn’t mind the least. It’s been fun, having friends around to care for
you. Somewhere along the way, they picked up Saguru, who insisted on coming
with the trio (Kaito, in all honesty, thought he was a hybrid of an ass and a
prick).
 
Heiji, Shinichi’s long time best friend, came along. He was like a whirlwind,
Kaito mused, like he just came rolling along from just around the corner and
began sticking to them like glue, insisting how “Kudou’s way too fragile fer
the battlefield.”
 
So their little team was assembled. As Ran’s mother was a high official in the
government, they were permitted extermination missions and travelling. Kaito
remembers how he chirps up to his father, exclaiming how they can both take
Chikage to see the sights outside the Vice Capital. Toichi merely shakes his
head sadly, and ruffles his son’s hair.
 
Sometimes, he looks back, and wonders why he didn’t ever ask why.
I closed my eyes, and sealed off my history.
 
And Kaito, every night, looks over to Shinichi, dozing slightly next to the
campfire, and he smiles, knowing that, in a generation like this, so dark and
so cruel, there was no time for feelings like Kaito’s.
 
And he closes his eyes and allows the tendrils of a dreamless night wash over
him, pulling him in and in.
 
I drown out and erase hidden feelings like this…
 
Shinichi stares up to the sky longingly.
 
It’s been a long road, a winded one too. He’s content, happy, but there’s
always a small hint of wistfulness in his tone of voice. He notices, but he
doesn’t change.
 
The others will notice if he changes.
 
So he’s become a mask, covering everything. He’s afraid that he’d burden the
others, his friends who are so strong and full of fire and determination.
Shinichi isn’t any of these things. How could he possibly be when he doesn’t
even remember a whole chunk of his life?
 
So he closes his eyes, sucks in a breath, and lets the memories wander in his
mind.
He was found in the middle of a field, alone and unconscious. The breeze
whipping gently around him, and the smell of grass surrounding him. He doesn’t
want to move. He doesn’t open his eyes, and lets himself lie there, slowly
falling into oblivion again.
 
And he’s pulled out of it again, from the violent shaking of his shoulders.
Slowly, he opens his eyes, and comes face to face with a woman, ashen blonde
curls framing her face and a worrisome expression pasted on her face.
Shinichi squints his eyes from the sun.
 
“Are you alright?” She asks, voice soft, as if she’s murmuring to an injured
kitten.
 
Shinichi groans in response, and realises that he’s being asked a question.
 
“I’m.. fine,” He almost winces at how cracked his voice sounds.
The woman frowns, seemingly unconvinced, before turning.
 
“Yuusaku!” She hollers, “Can you come over here for a second? I found a little
boy.”
 
A man sporting a large pair of glasses rushes over with a concerned look
covering his face and entire body language, “Is he okay, Yukiko?”
 
The woman, Yukiko, faces Shinichi, “What’s your name?” She asks softly.
 
The boy pauses, before opening his mouth with uncertainty, “Sh.. Shinichi..?”
He hadn’t meant for it to be a question.
 
“This is bad, he’s got amnesia. Let’s take him back to Winged Heights. That’s
where the closest medic centre is.” Yuusaku nods. Shinichi blinks slowly in
confusion.
 
“Let’s go.”
 
-.-.-
 
Life flowed along well. He was taken in by the couple, and given an education.
He was found to be exceptionally bright, and took little to no interest with
playing with toys and forming a social foundation. He befriended a girl, the
same age and glittering periwinkle eyes, at first, only purely by necessity.
Yuusaku and Yukiko travelled around a lot, and left their surrogate son to
their next door neighbours, the Mouri family.
 
When he reached the age where he could attend school, a group, consisting of
Mitsuhiko, Ayumi and Genta. Shinichi, exasperated, eventually let them under
his wing. Ran found it quite endearing, from the sidelines.
 
They grew up peacefully, and time slid by, quietly, unknowingly, and before
they knew it, they were all fourteen.
 
It was one of the darkest nights of Shinichi’s life.
 
He was called to the medic clinic, just a few blocks away from their home, and
one of the biggest in the Borderton. Nurses and doctors scuttled about, and the
clamour was quite near to deafening.
 
He was escorted into a patients room – Room 4869 – and on the bed, he saw his
mother, with IV drips hanging around her to the point where, if she dared to
sit up, she would possibly choke. Her shoulder was wrapped tightly with
pristine white bandages, but no longer the pure shade.
 
It was a diseased shade of black, splotched and spreading and eating away at
her from the inside out. Even as Shinichi stood there in the doorway frozen,
with Ran behind her trembling, he could see her melancholic smile growing more
and more monstrous by the second.
 
It was sickening, to see something this impure and cannibalistic in the world.
 
“Kaa-san.”
 
“Shinichi, I’m home,” She hiccupped, and shifted slightly so her head was
resting more comfortably on the pillow.
 
“..‘I’m’..?” Cerulean orbs widened.
 
Yukiko’s smile faltered, and her eyes dulled just a bit more. The heart monitor
to the side beeped unknowingly in the tense silence.
 
“..Where’s tou-san?” Shinichi swallowed, honestly not wanting to ask this
question.
 
The cleric closed her eyes, slumping into the bed, aura heavy, and she suddenly
seemed to age thirty years in one go.
 
“He..” The blonde’s voice quivered, “He.. he was a man of honour. He will be
remembered.”
 
Shinichi stilled. He had known his father to never give up at any rate, a
determined man, that was what he was. It shocked the boy to the core, to
suddenly come home one day, everything like normal (Normal, Shinichi laughed
bitterly, was a brittle and mediocre word) and suddenly, at the drop of a hat,
everything in his life flips upside down and inside out, a complete five-
hundred and forty degrees.
 
“Yukiko,” Shinichi hissed, and the bedridden woman winced at the use of her
first name by her own son, “Give it to me in bare, stripped words. Where is my
father?”
 
A wobbly sigh, “..He’s dead, Shinichi. He died protecting me from a golem.”
 
Shinichi breathed stiffly, and walked over to his mother’s side, and placed a
hand on his remaining family’s own, clammy ones. Yukiko sobbed quietly, choked
up on her own words.
 
“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “I’m sorry.”
 
“You?” Her voice came out raspy.
 
The blue-eyed boy shook his head sadly, “I’m not your biological son. Never
was. I can’t feel the pain to your extent,” He hung his head, “I was probably a
burden to both of you. With me at home, you two couldn’t go around as freely as
you’ve like before, and it was me that pulled you back at the last mission
resulting compulsory attendance in this mission..” He laughed. It was bitter
and broken, and the sound curved around the water dripping down his cheeks.
He looked up with a jolt when the smiling woman lightly brushed a hand over his
forehead.
 
“Shinichi. To Yuu-chan and my eyes, you were always our son, our little angel.
We’re sorry, so sorry.. we weren’t fit to be the ones to raise you and love
you.”
 
“But kaa-san, where do I..” He swallowed, “Where do I go now?”
 
His mother smiled, and looked over to Ran, who was looking to the ground with
little tears streaking down her face, and the female cleric laughed, “There’s
always Ran-chan, isn’t there?”
 
The girl realised she was being addressed to, and nodded hastily, “Shinichi,
I’m here if you need me,” She cracked a smile.
 
Yukiko closed her eyes again, loosening her grip on Shinichi’s, “Ah, I guess
it’s all well and good now,” And to Shinichi’s horror, the blackening on her
shoulder began to climb over rapidly to her collarbones, and to the corner of
her face, before it suddenly slowed, and Yukiko strained her grip on Shinichi’s
hand.
 
‘Sorry,” She panted, “One more thing, over by the corner is Yuu-chan’s Holy
Weapon. His last wish was for you to follow our paths,” She wheezed, a burdened
smile and drops of tears flowing freely, “Please.. please remember your father
and me, please..”
 
“W-wait! Kaa-san!” Shinichi yelled in horror, and tried to reach out, but
froze. The woman lying in front of him was still, face still with an apologetic
expression carved in it. The remaining warm, bubbly aura around his mother had
dispersed.
 
“..Shinichi,” He turned to see Ran, who was holding a Cane of Yunagi, bright
and glowing with a soft, orange light, and Shinichi twitched his lips upwards.
 
“..Thank you, Ran.”
 
-.-.-
 
Heiji met Shinichi at a Tavern, where he, admittedly, was drinking his ass off
from his break-up with Kazuha, and just happened to spot the boy sitting alone,
twirling his toothpick around idly. His friend with long brown hair (He’s
assuming a Soldier) was chatting away with another sassy blonde girl
(Ranger..?).
So, in need of some company, Heiji picked himself up and sat himself down in
the seat next to the blue-eyed boy, startling him.
 
“Hey, you okay? You’ve been twiddlin’ with that stick for a while,” Heiji
asked.
 
He looked up, confused, “Yeah, I’m fine, just.. thinking about things.”
 
“Ah,” Heiji nodded, not wanting to pry. People say he’s hot-blooded, brash,
rough and rude etcetera, etcetera but he’s not the type to miss obvious body
language, and this boy’s clearing states that something heavy’s happened to
him.
 
“You a Knight?” He asks suddenly, motioning to Heiji’s shield on the side. The
tanned boy scratched his cheek, “Yeah, Cleric, I’m guessing?” He earned a slow
nod.
 
“Oh, I haven’t even introduced myself yet. Hattori Heiji here,” He grinned,
holding out a hand. The dark-haired boy’s smile was strained, but took the
handshake anyway.
 
“Kudou..” He paused at the word, edge of the syllable rolling off his tongue,
“..Shini-”
 
“Ne, Shinichi, did you make a new friend? That’s pretty uncommon!” The brown-
haired girl from before came up to the two, laughing. She earned a twitch of
the eye in return.
 
“No, Ran, I met Hattori just a few minutes ago. What happened to ‘girl stuff’
with Sonoko?” Shinichi scowled. Hattori noted the casual stating of his surname
with glee.
 
“Eh, we’re finished, I just wanted to see how you’re doing with the Tavern
atmosphere. You never like these kinds of places,” There was a touch of concern
in the girls voice, before she turned to the green-eyed, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m
Mouri Ran, and Shinichi here’s not used to noisy placed and crowded areas,” She
cracked a smile.
 
“Hattori Heiji.”
 
And before Heiji even knew what he was doing, he agreed to travel along with
the two around to who-knows-where. He just shrugs and says to himself that he
enjoys the company, and maybe, just maybe, he’s a bit attracted to these
glittering ocean orbs from Shinichi.
 
But like hell is he admitting it.
 
-.-.-
 
Hakuba Saguru was slightly dumbfounded when he found a tanned teen chopping
down a tree in his estate near the town of Barrierboro.
Apparently this Hattori Heiji was gathering wood for the campfire for his ‘team
mates’. Saguru, always brimming with scepticism, decides to tag along with the
guy, and possibly chew him out slightly about the laws of property damage
amongst other things, such as the fact that Hattori’s accent is thoroughly
ridiculous in his eyes.
His surprise-o-meter is upped a notch when he discovers that a small swarm of
monsters are headed for their way, and the team springs into action, and
coordinates almost perfectly (They were only a three-man team after all).
 
And so the blonde takes initiative, and joins into the fight, and was glad that
he had remembered to bring his bow – a Prism Star – and his arrows, sniping off
the monstrosities one by one, assisting off the sidelines. He earned several
glances of thanks during the battle itself. Even with his inexperience, he was
faring well, if not a bit shakily. But he trusted the other three to protect
him and the blue-eyed boy, the Cleric of the group.
 
And then they stood, heaving, with corpses scattered around them. It was like a
scene of a horror movie, with slaughter and massacre and carnage, but this is
real, Saguru swallowed, it’s all real.
Saguru realises he hasn’t seen enough to know, to wrap his head around the
happenings of the outside world. Sure, he’s fended off some goblins and slimes
trying to infiltrate his home, but somewhere out there, there’s a much bigger
battle waging. And so the blonde shakes his head, and finally turns to the
group – still slightly tipsy from adrenaline – and asks.
 
“May I.. travel with your group?”
 
-.-.-
 
Unable to see anything but the horizon, there’s nowhere left to hide our
bodies.
 
“We have.. reliable sources informing us that the Black Army is planning to
infiltrate the Lake of Sand..” Megure, the guild leader of Division One, trails
off, before shaking his head slightly and turning towards the group, “You’ve
all been assigned a mission to- “A brief, hesitant pause, “-Protect Queen
Miyano at all times.”
 
“Damn, the desert now?” Kaito muttered under his breath, while Saguru and
Shinichi nod solemnly.
“Maybe because the Lake of Sand is weak right now with the lack of
reinforcements from Soul Island and the Nine Territories since both regions are
in a huge dispute?” Ran reasoned.
 
“They had ta pick the desert! The hell!” Heiji threw his arms up, and Saguru
shot him a glare, “Hattori-kun, this mission is compulsory, whether you
appreciate the aspects or not.”
 
“Shinichi? How do you feel about it?” Kaito turned to the blue-eyed boy with a
raised eyebrow.
 
“Let’s go, if Miyano-san’s ragion falls, we’ll be following soon after.”
 
-.-.-
Words of the farthest ends.
 
“Shit, shit, shit,” Kaito cried in desperation, “This was not how it was meant
to go, Heiji, get back here or you’ll go out of range from Shinichi’s healing!”
 
The knight paced back swiftly a few steps, eyes wide, “I know, I know!” He
gritted.
Kaito grimaced, he had never seen dragons in the Black Army, and none of them
know an extensive lot about the armoured beasts, which, as the magician quotes
Heiji, ‘Sucks ass.’
 
“Saguru, back up Ran – she’s low on health – and into formation three, I’ll
shoot down the damn beast’s wings,” He gritted. He earned a nod of
understanding.
 
“Shinichi-” Kaito started, but stopped when he saw the boy eyes wide and
panting heavily, limbs stiff and heavy and obviously overdoing herself. He
looked like he was living a nightmare, with skin pale and legs slightly
quivering, but bit his lip and continuing seeping his life force into the
staff.
Kaito’s eyes softened. Of course he thinks the responsibility would be his when
Ran’s in such bad shape.
“Kuroba, pay attention!” Saguru gritted out from behind him, and the brunette
snapped back to reality.
Throughout the battle, he kept a careful eye on his Cleric friend, away of how
his shoulders sagged with every life heal, and the Magician’s worry increased
threefold.
 
Kaito wishes, for once, that Shinichi would stop worrying and thinking and
taking responsibility for others, but for once, just once, for himself, and
realise how much he’s hauling on his back, and how much his body is taking the
toll.
Kaito just wants to tell him.
 
‘I love you.’
 
I can’t seem to be able to say them even now…
 
But he can’t. And it tears him apart from the inside, how much he hates himself
for not gathering up enough courage and much less say it in from of the Cleric.
 
“Shinichi’s gone! Kuroba! Snap out of it!”
 
He hates the weak part of himself.
 
-.-.-
 
Little by little, from the world, Day after day even light and temperature
begin to fade.
Heiji doesn’t have time to consider such things as ‘feelings’, when he’s
fighting to survive. In this world, it is and was always ‘kill or be killed’.
Heiji never let his guard down, not when there’s people he wants to protect,
even if some more reluctantly than others (Saguru). He can’t flee; he has to be
the shield for everyone here.
 
He’s finally felt the anguish of his absolute defences breaking during the
battle with Gin, a commander of the Black Army, at the Lake of Sand.
 
“Heiji, get back here or you’ll go out of range from Shinichi’s healing!”
Kaito’s voice calls out, and Heiji grits his teeth and paces backwards. Out of
the corner of his eye, he sees Ran sprinting desperately back.
 
“Dammit, let go of Shinichi!” She screams furiously. Heiji’s head whisks
around, to find that damn Gin holding a certain dark-haired Cleric, limp and
pale in his arms like a ragdoll. His sneer drips venom and triumph, and Heiji
feels like punching it right off his face and into the Nine Territories.
 
“Boss’s orders,” He laughs, a harsh barking sound, “See you, brats.”
 
And he’s gone, just like that. Whisked into a black mist andgone, both of them.
Heiji’s heart has suddenly lost a huge fragment of itself, shattered, and Heiji
can’t seem to find it again.
 
It’s come the point at which an escape from absolute zero fills the gap between
us.
 
Saguru curses himself. His fury is growing rapidly, and he’s only got himself
to blame for Shinichi’s abduction.
Kaito’s stilled. Heiji’s trembling, and Ran’s slumped on the ground with tears
flowing freely. Saguru clenches his fists and walks up to Kaito, the one
nearest to him, and slaps him, hard on the cheek, leaving a blazing red mark in
it’s wake.
 
“Kudou’s gone! Kuroba, snap out of it!” He hisses, fully aware of the remaining
goblin pacing towards him and he once again, curses himself, and draws a lone
arrow and fires.
The arrow’s void of any determination and hope.
 
-.-.-
 
Ran’s in a daze, her hands trembling while she stirs the soup. Vivid flashes of
the day echo through her mind, and she can’t seem to push them away.
Her childhood friend, her former neighbour, her first..
No. It’s not the time to think these thoughts. She smiles meekly and brings the
soup ladle, full of nourishment, towards the bowel, and in her trembling,
spills some of it onto the side. The brunette girl sighs, and places the ladle
back into the pot.
 
And she looks back to her remaining teammates, and tries to convince herself.
 
Shinichi’s fine, she hopes with tears brimming, he’ll be fine, we’ll be fine,
I’ll be fine.
 
But she knows that these are all empty thoughts, as she brings the ladle
upwards once again.
 
-.-.-
 
You don’t hesitate when it comes to Saving the lives before your eyes.
 
Shinichi’s woken up to a hand caressing his cheek, and his eyes flicker open,
to see a man with empty, soulless staring back at him with a smile. Half of his
face is covered by darkness.
 
“Who are you?” He growls, pulling away.
 
“Ah ah, Shinichi, that’s disrespectful, didn’t you know?” He grins.
 
“Disrespectful?” Shinichi snaps, “Maybe you should tell me where this is and
how you know my name before you start calling me disrespectful.”
 
“Hm,” He hums, “You’ve sure grown up, haven’t you?” He shifts slightly, and
Shinichi can’t help but really, truly hope that this is all a dream, that it’s
all fake.
 
Yuusaku cracks a smile, “Surprised?”
 
“..Who are you? You’re not my father,” The Cleric growls, fingers reaching for
his staff, but the older man kicks it away.
 
“I see you’ve kept my wand, Shinichi,” He hums, fingers twirling through his
son’s hair. Shinichi shivers, but felt his eyes drifting closer and closer
together, until everything becomes a whirl of darkness, and he’s drifting away.
 
-.-.-
I became unable to hide my out of place feelings Whirling inside of me.
 
“We need to do something, we can’t just sit here, dammit,” Heiji growls,
frustration setting him on edge and ready to snap. He feels like he’s lost
Kazuha all over again.
 
“What can we do?” Ran’s voice comes out as a shaky whisper, fearful and weak.
 
Everyone considers this, and it seems like a huge dead-end, a tall, blocky wall
in their way. They all despise the feeling of not knowing where to go next.
They’re lost.
 
“..Hey, everyone,” Kaito begins, and everyone turns their gaze to the magician,
“I.. know someone that might be able to help.”
 
Saguru held doubt in his body language, “Are you sure?” He asks slowly. Kaito
nods.
 
“Koizumi Akako, an.. acquaintance of mine.”
 
-.-.-
 
We again avert each other’s gazes, our histories, ah..
 
“Shit, Koizumi, what do you mean you won’t help?” Kaito growls, slamming a fist
on the table, and the relics clatter in the wake of the shock.
 
“Kuroba-kun, I’m not saying I won’t help,” The Sage’s eyes narrow, “But you
must be willing to offer something of equal importance to me.”
 
“I’ll give anything! Just help me find Shinichi!” He snarled, leaning in
further.
 
“But nothing of yours in enough,” Akako snapped back, flicking through a book
of tracking spells, accidentally knocking over a Chronicle in her haste. The
blue-covered book falls to the ground with a thump.
 
“Please..” Kaito’s voice fades, “Help me.”
 
Akako gives a moment’s pause, before turning to the teen boy, “How much do you
care for this boy?”
 
Before we knew it, we were fumbling over eternity.
 
“He saved my life, he saved many others’. He’s brave, reckless, selfless, and
absolutely ignorant to his own wellbeing. Shinichi’s absolutely beautiful. He
means the world to me, I..” The brunette swallows thickly, and the red-haired
witch listens intently, “I love him.”
 
The Great Sage lets out a breath, before raising a smooth, pale hand, “Very
well, I’ve heard enough, Kuroba-kun,” She smiles at the boy with eyes blurred
with tears, “Lucifer.”
 
Her crystal orb, shimmering, floats over slowly. Akako smiles towards it, “Go.”
 
Kaito’s hands take the crystal ball into his hands, and he looks up to the Sage
in awe and gratefulness, “Thank you, Akako,” He whispers.
 
“No, thank you, Kaito,” Akako gives a tender look, “For showing me,” And then
she’s gone.
 
-.-.-
 
The hand-with-hand of ours becomes that of an unable-to-lie illness.
 
“Shinichi,” The Cleric boy stirs, and sits up, “It looks like your friends are
here.”
 
Shinichi’s head snaps up with a jolt, “What?” He asked, eyes wide. Yuusaku’s
frown grew, “They’re close, and you might want to see them again, don’t you?”
He smiles, and Shinichi finds it way too creepy to be a true emotion.
 
“Why are you doing this?” He snarls, hands curling into fists.
 
“Why, you ask?” The man purses his lips, “Because I’m your father, aren’t I?”
 
-.-.-
 
Poor Adam and Eve, You could say that they began from here.
 
“Ah, hello, everyone. You all must be Shinichi’s little group.”
 
Saguru’s ears prick up at the sound of the voice, “Who’s there?!”
 
He could see Kaito following him, scanning the room, along with Heiji, but Ran
stilled almost immediately. She turned around stiffly with a shadow of fear
across her face.
 
“..Kudou-san..” She gulped, and the man stepped out of the shadows. Saguru felt
his hackles rise. This man did indeed look exactly like the Cleric. The air
suddenly tensed, like it was ready to explode at any moment now.
 
“Since you took the time to come here, I’d like to see just how much you all
treasure my son, that you’d give anything,” Yuusaku’s smile turned feral,
“Including your lives.”
 
Ran’s breath hitched, “Y-Yuusaku-san, why are you..”
 
“Ah, Ran-san. Long time no see,” He gave an idle wave.
Saguru growled, and fired one of his more powerful arrows in a split second. To
his absolute horror, the arrow was caught in mid-air and snapped into two. The
silence only grew heavier.
 
“Dammit, give Shinichi back-!” Heiji roared, charging towards the man, but his
attempts were futile, as he was instantly knocked back with force.
It became a full-blown war, with four-on-one, and the larger team losing
rapidly. Without their cleric, their health was decreasing by a wide margin.
Saguru cursed, as he was cornered by the man, the Magician and Knight bleeding
on the ground, and their Soldier paralysed on the spot.
 
“Now, now, there’s no need to be afr-”
 
Saguru stood there in horror as the man crumpled to the ground in agony. Behind
him, stood Shinichi, hair wild and eyes dull and open in horror. In his hands
was a sword – Heiji’s.
In this twisted romance, there’s no one left to observe.
 
“Shinichi..” He hacked, and gave a regretful smile, “So you’ll go this far.”
 
“Yes, tou-san,” Shinichi replied blandly, eyes dull, as he raised the sword
once again.
 
“Shinichi-!” Saguru yelled, “Snap out of it!” He held the blue-eyed boy’s hand
holding the sword, and watched as the Cleric’s eyes slowly regain light, before
turning towards the blonde in half fear and half puzzlement, “S-Saguru?”
 
“Shinichi!” Kaito coughed as he pulled himself up, “Are you okay?” He stumbled
over to the two.
 
“Kaito!” Blue eyes widen in horror at the state that the Magician is in, “What
happened?” He began to heal the brunette, a gentle blue glow from his hands.
 
-.-.-
 
Love begins, Flowers blossom, and the horizon starts to fade away.
 
“Hey, Shinichi?”
 
“Yeah? What is it?”
 
“Er..”
 
“Geez, just say it already.”
 
“..I love you."
 
We speak of morals and the world proceeds to be born again.
Chapter End Notes
     I realise that I'm gonna need some more variety in my pairings now,
     since like a huge damn chunk of the drabbles feature Kaito or Heiji /
     /hides
     If you've got suggestions, please drop some down below in the reviews
     section.
***** KID/Conan & Kaito/Shinichi – “May I speak to Kuroba-niichan, KID?” *****
Chapter Summary
     Heists are there for the good news and the bad news, and KID and
     Kaito know all too well.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Drabble 17
KID/Conan & Kaito/Shinichi – “May I speak to Kuroba-niichan, KID?”
Chapter warnings: Personality switches, which may get a teeny bit confusing at
times, and sad shit.
Notes: Italics = thoughts/internal communication, eg. KID to Kaito.
---
 
Nearing the end of the Saffron Jadeite heist, Kaito’s apprehension only grew.
 
‘KID’, he asks from inside the mind, voice tight but firm, ‘Have you seen
Conan-kun?’
“Hm, oh, tantei-kun? No, not really. Is there something you need with him or
meitantei-kun?” The thief hummed, fingers skittering along the edges of the
case of the targeted jewel, searching for access.
 
‘You’re saying things out loud again!’ Kaito reminded sternly, ‘It’s gonna make
you look like a psychopath,”He hissed.
‘Sheesh, alright, whoops, pissy today huh?’ KID groaned, and sat down on the
ground in front of the imagery of Kaito, ‘Is this anything to do with
meitantei-kun?’
 
Kaito went silent for a few seconds, looking at the ground, ‘Don’t give me that
shit, you also know how he’s disappeared for weeks now already, don’t you?’
KID winced, and tried to ignore the piecing shouts of one Nakamori-keibu’s
orders, as he clicked open a latch and the case slid open silently. He heaved a
sigh, taking the piece of stone in hand.
 
‘Yeah, I do. Personally, I’m worried about tan-Conan-kun as well.’
 
Shff.
 
KID’s ears perk up, “Who’s there?” He hummed, but the voice was stringed with
defensiveness. His deep indigo eyes catch on a red bowtie, purple in the
darkness, and an innocent child façade.
“Ah, tantei-kun,” KID smiled tenderly, “So you’ve finally shown up, did
something happen?” He squatted down to the child’s height and ruffled his hair,
which caused his hand to be swatted away. Conan heaved a breath and the
mischievous glint in his eyes dimmed.
 
“Ne, ne, KID, Shinichi wants to talk, so can you ask Kuroba-niichan out to
listen?” He chirped. KID frowned, biting his lips. Something was off about his
favourite small detective today, with the body language and tone, but in his
mind, he motioned to Kaito anyway.
Confidant, indigo eyes flickered to cerulean, violet-speckled blue, and the
body’s face instantly shifted into a tense, worried attitude, “What happened,
Shinichi?”
 
“It’s about the cure,” Conan’s, no, Shinichi’s deep, knowing voice stated, and
he shuffled on his feet. Kaito raised a stiff eyebrow; this conversation is
going to take a bad turn.
 
“I-What.. about it?”
 
Shinichi ran a hand through his hair, and took off his glasses, and Kaito could
see the dark eyebags, and the hauntings in his eyes. Shinichi’s, not Conan’s.
 
‘This isn’t good,’ KID hummed in his head, but his eyes were hard and serious.
 
“There..” The formerly teenage detective bit his lip, “There won’t be a cure
for.. this,” He gestured to his small body, and laughed quietly, “You won’t be
able to see the real me again,” His laughter grew hoarse. Kaito’s frown grew
deeper as he let the words sink in and held the hysterical boy’s shoulders in
an attempt to calm him, before he pulled Shinichi into a hug. Shinichi pulled
at the fabric of the cape as he fell into the white-clad boy’s shoulder,
“Haibara’s giving up. If I continue taking any types of antidotes, my spine
will be crushed under the pressure and the ventricles and arteries of my heart
will collapse. She’s happy in this life, she’s happy with starting over again,”
His voice dropped to a whisper, “I’m not.”
 
“Shini-”
 
“Whoops, sorry, Kuroba-niichan, Shinichi-niichan needs some time,” Conan
strained a grin, as be flipped open his tranquilizer watch and aimed it at his
neck, before slumping into the magician’s arms.
 
‘Huh?’ KID remarked.
 
“KID’s on the roof! Get him, and seal off the exits!” Nakamori’s famed roar
echoed through the building, and Kaito shivered. ‘KID,’ He asked, ‘Can you
handle this?’
 
‘Sure, got it,’ The phantom thief grinned, before Kaito felt himself numbing
and KID taking over.
 
-.-.-
 
Kaito sighed, as he propped his arms on his knees to support his head, and
stared at the miniscule detective dozing on the sofa. Thoughts ran wild in his
head, and KID was silent as well.
The magician picked at his nails. He’d always imagined that some day Shinichi
would get a cure, just like that, take down the Organization, probably losing a
few lives, and they’ll be back as close to normal as they’ll probably get.
KID, in his head, sternly reminds him that that’s just incredibly simplistic
thinking. Kaito can’t help but admit he’s right.
 
“Ngh..” The boy groaned and Kaito was by his side in an instant, scanning over
him for anything off or telling if it was Shinichi or Conan.
 
‘It’s Shinichi,’ KID whistled, ‘Tantei-kun normally sleeps with his head tilted
to the right, whereas meitantei-kun sleeps on his left.’ Kaito snorted in
exasperation, ‘Geez, you observant prick.’
KID shrugged, ‘Can’t help it, I’m supposed to be a master thief, aren’t I?’
 
“Shinichi?” Kaito whispered, gently nudging the boy, and he stirred slightly,
mouth open, and breathing smooth. Kaito gently twirled a lock of his hair
absentmindedly.
“Kaito,” Shinichi murmured, eyes half open and glasses sliding off, “Sorry.”
 
“It’s all fine,” The taller brunette smiled, “As long as you’re still here, I
don’t really care if you’re in Conan’s body or your own. You’re still
Shinichi.”
The not-child cracked a smile, “Ah, thanks, I could say the same to you, even
if KID’s a huge ass sometimes, metaphorically,” He snickered, and KID gasped in
horror behind his monocle. Kaito chose to ignore him.
 
“Ah, okay..” Kaito wasn’t sure how to respond. The blue-eyed boy was probably
quoting Conan, actually, “So how do you feel?” The magician hummed.
 
“Pretty shit, never thought Conan would put us both to sleep,” The detective
grumbled, before giving a yawn, “I’ll probably take a rest, Conan says he wants
to see KID.”
Kaito nodded, and he didn’t even have to tell his thieving counterpart before
he drifted into darkness again, sitting back to watch through a phantom thief’s
point of view.
Chapter End Notes
     I got pretty lazy at the end forgive me please //cries
***** General – “505 ways to break your sanity with Mahjong.” *****
Chapter Summary
     Shinichi should have pinched himself the moment Kaito beamed and
     exclaimed, "Strip Mahjong!"
Chapter Notes
     I swear this chapter bears a resemblance to Drabble 8.
Drabble 18
General – “505 ways to break your sanity with Mahjong.”
Chapter warnings: Crack and the Boys being huge dorks.
---
 
“Alright so here’s the deal,” Kaito announced triumphantly, “To determine who
gets Aoko’s last cookie, we’re gonna have a game of, wait for it..”
 
“I honestly don’t want to hear it,” Saguru deadpanned, glaring at his brunette
classmate.
 
“Strip Mahjong!” Kaito beamed like a lightbulb.
 
“…”
 
“The fuck?” Heiji choked violently on his rice ball, and almost ran into a
telephone pole face first while Shinichi yelped and tripped on his shoelaces,
and stumbled into Saguru, who then fell into a rose bush nearby.
Kaito looked on with an endless amount of hilarity in his eyes.
 
“Kuroba, whatthe absolute hell-!?” The half-brit exploded, trying to untangle
himself from the thorns and a certain Detective of the East, while the western
counterpart almost got ran over by a car on the other side of the sidewalk.
 
“So here’s the rules, it goes by normal Mahjong game rules and regulations,
only-” Kaito started, but was cut off mid-sentence by his seething classmate.
“Who would be knowledgeable of the rules of such an obscure game?” He growled,
dusting himself off, as he pulled Shinichi up. Kaito shot back a glare of his
own, “Please do let me finish,” He cleared his throat, “So as I was saying,
normal Mahjong rules, yadidadida, but,” His eyes glinted as he turned to his
three unfortunate victims, “If you lose, you gotta take off an article of
clothing, and changing your clothing from what you’re wearing now.”
 
“Wha- Hey! You’ve got a hoodie and cap and everything, Kuroba!” Heiji fumed,
“Ya planned this, didn’t you?” The magician gave a playful wink in return,
“Maybe, maybe not. But I’ll tell you what, if you guys manage to get me to
strip off all this, I’ll treat you all to hot springs.”
 
Heiji stared, before smirking, “Deal.”
 
-.-.-
 
“Hey, Kaito,” Shinichi asked flatly, “How do you even keep a Mahjong set in
your sleeve?”
 
“Magicians never reveal their secrets, you should know that already,” The
magician in question laughed, stacking up the Mahjong blocks by twos in a row
of eighteen at a seemingly speed of light.
Heiji stared at the patterned backing of the blocks, not entirely sure what to
do. Saguru, sitting on his left, was scrolling through a ‘Mahjong Rules for
Dummies’ guide online with a sour look on his face.
 
“Alrightio, we’re done,” Kaito sat back into his seat, and let the other three
admire his perfectly assembled blocks, and he grinned, “So, who wants to roll
first?” He asked, juggling two dice. “No one?” He hummed, “Okay, I’ll go then,”
He let the dice fall onto the table.
“You show-off,” The blonde detective sighed, staring at the double sixes.
 
“Show-off is my middle name, Hakuba Stick-Up-The-Ass Saguru,” Kaito grinned in
response.
 
“That’s a horrifying mental image, Kaito,” Shinichi winced, gesturing a ‘time
out’ with his hands. Heiji looked like he’s likely to be sent to the nearest
hospital for a lack of oxygen in the next half hour if you take into account of
the wheezing and choked laughter.
 
-.-.-
 
Things were okay, Heiji supposed, up until the Osakan himself lost the first
game to his Eastern counterpart and that was when he decided he wanted to edit
his earlier mental statement.
For the next three rounds, Saguru had to take off his watch, socks and shirt
respectively, and sat there emitting rays of wrath. Shinichi lost the next,
taking off his own tranquiliser watch. Heiji followed with losing his cap.
Through some miraculous miracle, Kaito admitted defeat on their seventh round.
It wasn’t long before Saguru felt a chill creeping up his spine.
 
“Kuroba, as much as I am mortifyingly seated here half-naked, are you a kind
enough soul to close the windows?” He growled, staring at his deck of Thousands
and Winds. Heiji snickered behind his hand, and Shinichi politely looked away,
with a slight blush he’d been sporting through the afternoon.
 
“Nope, you’re going to learn to be a man the hard way, Sagu-chan~” Kaito sang
with glee as he rubbed his hands together, “Isn’t that right, Shin-chan?”
“Eh?” The ocean-eyed boy cocked his head in question, and Heiji swears that’s
even cuter than that one time Yukiko showed his a photo of her son in a dolly
dress.
 
“Dear Lord, help me,” Saguru muttered.
 
-.-.-
 
“Where were the goddamn five sticks when you need ‘em?” Heiji screeched,
throwing his hands up, as he tried to shove the inescapable fate of taking off
his pants. His pants.
 
“I have them, Hattori,” The cowlicked boy of the group held up the piece, and
Heiji slumped back down with exasperation, and slid a hand down his face. Kaito
knocked down his pieces and began to shuffle them, slightly proud of the fact
that he’s won 14/18 games so far.
 
“So, I take it we’re going to need a break?” The magician looked up to the
clock and saw that it was almost dinner-time. “Anyone up for ramen?” He got up
and walked towards the door of the Detective of the East’s room, intent on the
kitchen.
 
“I bet Hattori-kun’s glad for anything as long as he’s ceased playing this
ridiculous game.” The Osakan in question slumped even deeper into his seat,
exhausted, “Beef flavour is fine fer me.”
 
-.-.-
 
“Shin-chan~” Kaito’s smile could crack a hundred and two mirrors. At once.
“Please?”
Shinichi’s blush only grew in hue and size, “No!” He replied almost
immediately, “I am not wearing that!”
 
Saguru wanted to slap his idiot of a classmate when he saw the damn piece of –
ugh – hold up a piece of black fabric (?), along with bunny ears and a cotton
tail. The half-brit swears that he sees red right now. Such was the fate of
coming into a 10 meter-scrap that, 100 meter radius of one Kuroba Kaito.
Well, Shinichi only had himself to blame for a chain of 4 losses, and he’s
faced with a mortal emergency.
 
“No, dammit, Kaito, you son of a-”
 
Aa-nd, it’s the smoke, Saguru coughs, it’s always the pink smoke. He cracks
open his eyelids and finds a gaping Osakan, a crying Ekodan (Tears of laughter,
of course), and.
 
Nope.
Hallucinations seem pretty real these days, don’t they?
 
“So, the sky’s pretty blue today, isn’t it?” He thinks out loud, and is greeted
by silence, so he stares out the window, to the empty street, “And, oh, look,
that’s Mouri-san, isn’t it..?”
 
“…”
 
Shinichi learns to breathe again first, “Hakuba-kun, could you please rewind
the last few seconds?” He asks monotonously. Heiji blinks. Once. Twice.
 
“Oh, look, that’s Mou-”
 
“Holy fucking shit and everything that isn’t shit!” Shinichi screams, “Kaito,
you- I swear to god, change me back! Ran’s here!” He gestures wildly to his
attire of a playboy costume. The magician in question is silent almost
immediately, before he’s in the middle of pulling himself up and is interrupted
by an exasperated voice, “Mou, Shinichi! Are you in here?”
The door creaks open. Saguru’s mind blanks, as he sits on the chair buck naked
from the waist up, and really, the only one thing that decides to float into
his mind is one of Heiji’s quotes, apparently phrased as, “I hope this is a
dream or I’m screwin’ myself to the moon and back.”
 
“Shinichi..?” Mouri Ran peeks a head around the door in curiosity and absolute
normalcy. Even Kaito’s ass-struck silent. The temperature of the room drops by
twelve and a half degrees.
 
“..I take it this is one of the moments where I’m supposed to say ‘it’s not
what it looks like?’” Shinichi’s grin was wobbly and weak.
 
***** Yuusaku/Shinichi – “Economy class was full so I had to sit on his lap.”
*****
Chapter Summary
     He swears to hell and heaven and whatever is in between that plane
     trips were fun for a period of his life.
     Just not this period.
Chapter Notes
     Prompted by Aredriseth.
     And for the purpose of this story, I’m just going to throw the take-
     off and landing procedures for airlines and seatbelt regulations and
     even foot pain for long durations of standing out of the window,
     because I’m such a lazy ass and I can’t be bothered to find a way
     around the whole thing and I’ve got two assignments due.
Drabble 19
Yuusaku/Shinichi – “Economy class was full so I had to sit on his lap.”
Chapter warnings: Implied incest and long plane trips galore.
---
 
“Only sixteen hours, she says,” The passengers’ chatter and the flurry of
colours and patterns on luggage fly by, and announcements are made over the
speakers, “Sixteen hours, mum says.”
 
Kudou Shinichi was not, never was, and never will be a fan of plane trips.
Especially the damn long ones from Tokyo to Los Angeles (Where her mother
currently was) which slave off around sixteen hours of your life and enough to
make you launch into nail-ripping, manic hysterics mode if you were a teeny bit
paranoid and constantly on the look out for bombs, cockpit murders, plane
hijackers, a faulty wing engine, Kaitou KID, the occasional occupied restroo-
“Shinichi, are you okay?” Yuusaku asks with worry evident, as he shifts in his
seat, listening intently on the words from the intercom, before frowning, “Come
on, it’s our flight boarding next.”
 
“Ah, okay,” Shinichi slowly picked himself up. He cursed his legs and the pins
and needles seeping in as he stood up and stretched.
 
The intercom buzzed to life, “Flight number AP4869 please proceed to gate 16
for immediate boarding, thank you. I repeat, flight number AP4869, please – oh
my gosh, is that Kudou Yuusaku and his son?!”
 
-.-.-
 
Shinichi wanted to straight out rip open the emergency door and jump out and
plummet to his death.
Actually, that was a teeny bit extreme. Let’s rephrase that one.
Shinichi just wanted a legit empty seat where he could move into and contently
buckle his seatbelt and probably fall asleep in an awkward position and no one
would care for the next three-quarters of a day and wake up with a dry mouth
and emtreme jet lag and be thankful for all the more unpleasant options he
could have encountered but hadn’t – something he doesn’t normally do on a plane
trip.
 
But no.
 
Because Shinichi doesn’t believe in fate, so it comes to hate him back too. And
tagging along, was karma. And these two jerks of life just have to come and
have the economy class lose around six seats from flimsy seat-belt errors in
mid-flight so here he is, sitting on his father’s lap.
 
Couldn’t teleportation really come any sooner? Worldwide transportation in a
mere millisecond, and none of this shenanigans and awkward touchy-feely
situations where Shinichi seems to notice that his dad doesn’t mind in the
least.
 
Something from the deep, dark depths of the back of his mind, where his cringy,
self-exploring ‘bathtub moments’ as Conan and mental images (Courtesy of
Kazuha) of Heiji dressed as Super Saiyan with a disturbing suntan gone haywire
and Haibara and her Taylor Swift web searches on Shinichi’s computer (He swears
she does that to piss her off) lie, a lone voice drifts in, whispering ‘This
isn’t so bad, he smells nice and his leg’s pretty comfortable-”
 
First chance he gets, he’s heading straight for the bathroom in their hotel in
LA and bleaching his mind. Preferably quite literally.
 
The almost-silent clicking of sneaky phones from fangirls and possible fanboys
going off from the side is not doing much good for Shinichi’s mental health
right now.
 
-.-.-
 
“Shinichi, do you want to watch a movie?” Yuusaku asked, stifling a yawn and
taking in the poor, poor souls standing up or leaning against the seat arm-
rests during the flight. His eyes then turned to the monitor, where it displays
‘Frozen’, ‘Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs’, and even ‘Big Hero 6’. He’s
clearly in the wrong section for ‘Sherlock’, then.
Damn these remote thingymajigs and their frustrating tangleable cords connected
to seat in front of them.
 
But that aside, Shinichi seems to have fallen asleep.
 
Yuusaku laughs quietly, as he turns the screen off and settles back into the
backrest, letting his son’s head fall into his chest as he slowly dozed off
into a sweet oblivion as well. His vision gradually transcends into black, and
the lights dim and the world fades. Just for a little while. Just a little.
 
-.-.-
 
Shinichi woke up to the sound of chattering flight attendants. And camera
clicks. Especially the camera clicks.
 
“They look so cute together!”
“Aw, I’m sending these pictures to my mother..”
“Who knew the world famous author had such a soft spot for his son?”
“You know, Kudou Yuusaku’s son looks feminine enough to even replace his mother
as a wife, don’t you-”
 
By then, Shinichi’s heard enough, and his eyelids snap open in a millisecond,
and he sits himself upright with utter mortification and a scarlet face. Or
tried to sit up.
Head, meet in-flight entertainment screen. Hope you get along.
They didn’t, and Shinichi groaned and rubbed his forehead and glared sourly at
the piece of plastic, before turning to the flight attendants, who were all red
in the face and scuttling to look normal (Read: almost knocking over a bottle
of juice and juggling their cellphones in a frenzy to put them in their
pockets).
 
“E-er, hello, Kudou-san, would you like any-”
 
“Black coffee,” He pinched the ridge of his nose, “Actually, blacker than
black, please, wait, no cancel that, I just need an aspirin. Aspirin would do
me so much good right now.”
 
-.-.-
 
“Shin-chan, Yuu-chan! How was your flight~?” Kudou Yukiko ensnared her darling
son in a smothering wooing-mother hug- glomp. Shinichi didn’t answer. Yuusaku
didn’t either. Instead, they both trudged along, towing their luggage with bags
under their eyes and a lingering of a blush in the air.
Which is why they didn’t even notice the other two human beings following them
along from the back, before the two figures, one taller than the other.
 
“Heyo, Shinichi-kun!” The detective in question paused and slowly turned around
to meet the source of the voice.
“Sera-san?” His tone was a mix of curiosity and ‘huh?’ (He had seen too much
shit for surprise anymore).
 
“Yep.” Masumi shot a grin, “That’s me. Shuu-nii and I caught the same flight as
you and your dad, but wow, even in the business class we could hear some pretty
extreme fangirl screams. Is that related to you two by any chance?” Shuuichi’s
eyes twinkled with bemusement while Masumi’s entire tone of voice screamed
rhetorical question.
 
Shinichi looked them once over, then calmly reached into his bag, opened the
box of aspirins and downed the rest all in one gulp.
***** Kaito/Shinichi – “Tears of blood.” *****
Chapter Summary
     Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's my dearest of them all?
Drabble 20
Kaito/Shinichi – “Tears of blood.”
Chapter warnings: Nothing too major, unless you count swearing, but there’s a
bit of that in all of my drabbles, isn’t there? //laughes
Notes: Set in a royalty AU.
---
 
Some people may call Kuroba Kaito a bit of an eccentric. Or maybe slightly too
easygoing, or too immature to be for a proper prince. The list varies and
wanders to different areas with each person’s opinions and thoughts and
personal tastes. Kaito doesn’t mind, he never has. After all, opinions were an
easily changeable thing, like human feelings and the hundreds of thousands of
other essences of their kind.
The royal Kuroba family has travelled down millennia’s of generations, carrying
down unique royal blood through each offspring. Their rule seemed to be strict
towards neighbouring countries and distant embassies, and maybe it is, but in
all honesty, Kaito’s family was understanding and willing to listen to pleas
and critiques.
 
Kaito’s turning eighteen in a few months, and when he does, he’s ready to rule,
and his mother, Chikage’s position as Queen will be replaced.
It could be called a great window of opportunity and power and fame and the
million of other things any normal being could wish to obtain.
However, it could also be viewed as a burden, a sad path of life, chained to a
strict lifestyle and suffocating in the various beliefs and harsh ways of
upbringing.
Humans were naïve creatures, only seeing what they want to see, and only doing
what they deem necessary.
 
But as Kaito gently closes the ivory door to his grand room, all of the matters
and worries from the outside world fades into a mass of blur, and as he paces
across the room, footsteps light and familiar, his sense of belonging returns,
and when he reaches out one of his hands to longingly caress the surface of the
grand, gleaming mirror implanted on his wall, it’s only him.
Him and the boy in his mirror.
 
“Shinichi, I’m back.”
 
The mirror’s spectrum and refractions distort for a split second, before a
smooth, soft imagery forms upon it’s crisp, clear face, and a lone boy appears,
slightly transparent, like a frosted, fragile marble held up to a light, and an
untouchable grace and a translucent hand raises up to an imaginary wall, and it
passes through fluidly, as like the mirror itself was a liquid, was nothing but
a slight hindrance. His pale lips twitch upwards in welcoming as he approaches
the young prince.
 
“Welcome back, Kaito.”
 
-.-.-
 
He’d found the spirit five years ago, in the midst of a forest, a full, intact
mirror laid. Kaito, bursting with curiosity even at the age of twelve,
scampered over to it, and crouched down on the ground next to it.
No scratch, no dents, no sign of any wear or tear. He frowned, normal people
wouldn’t just throw something as expensive-looking as this, and it even looked
like it was placed down gently on the grass. This forest was like his
playground, his home since childhood, and he knew every nook and cranny of it,
and it wouldn’t make sense if someone had to leave something as full-on as a
mirror here.
 
Ah, he remembered, there was an incident around this part of the forest a few
weeks ago, something about a riot. He shuddered, but continued inspecting the
antique object. There was a distinct lack of mirrors in the palace, so it
couldn’t hurt to touch it a bit..
 
It hadtingled, when he made contact with the surface of the pane, like a slight
static shock, yet it caused his entire being to shiver. He drew back, slightly
breathless as something rippled on its reflective surface.
This isn’t normal, he bit his lip, I should run.
He couldn’t move. It was just the trees and the grasses and the piece of
delicate decoration and him. Nothing else.
 
And the boy was staring back at him, almost a mirror reflection. Kaito blinked,
not comprehending as well as usual. He tried to reason that this was probably a
hallucination or vision or mirage orsomething real. His hand was still ghosting
in the air, and he realised that it was drifting in the area where the other
boy was supposed to be.
Kaito panicked and scooted backwards into the leaf litter. The other boy looked
just as surprised as he was, and looked at himself with awe. When Kaito took a
closer look, he realised that the cowlicked boy, the same age as him, was
actually slightly transparent, and it wasn’t just a simple trick of light.
He had an enchanting air around him, leaving the young prince slightly
breathless, and a bit dazed too.
 
It was after a few minutes that both of them could find the words to say again.
 
“U-um, what’s your name?”
“What year is this..?”
 
Kaito blinked. That wasn’t what he expected someone to say on a first meeting.
“1846, why?”
 
The other’s eyes snapped up in relief, cerulean eyes relaxing, and the tiny
aqua specks in the iris danced – Kaito found these vivid orbs with solid,
glimmering colour fascinating. “Thank goodness.”
 
Wind rustled the leaves, as the blue-eyed boy lifted his head up just a bit
more, and smiled, some unfamiliarity normally directed to strangers, some
remorse, mostly a swirl of strain to cover something deep inside the soul.
 
“Shinichi, Kudou Shinichi, and you’re the royal prince..?”
 
-.-.-
 
It was one of the days where something felt.. wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
 
And it paved way for a bottomless pit to sink into Kaito’s stomach like forever
drifting sediment, and the frustration pent up to build into worry, and
paranoia.
It began in the morning; he woke up early, still and tangled up in the
bedsheets. It was just like a snap, and he found himself staring at the wall.
The sun wasn’t even up, yet he pushed himself upwards and sat on the edge of
the mattress.
 
Shinichi appeared again, in the mirror, and not drifting out like a ghost at
this time of day, staying a picture in the panes, obviously sensing the
tenseness in the other’s shoulders and posture. Indigo eyes were drifting off
and unfocused.
 
“Kaito? Is everything alright?” The blue-eyed boy whispered, stifling a yawn.
 
The prince turned his head to his roommate, and shook his head with a sliver of
uncertainty. “Everything’s fine, it’s just that..” Something didn’t feel right
in the air, and both of them felt it, “..No, nothing, I’m fine,” But he knew
that Shinichi could see he wasn’t.
 
“Okay,” Shinichi sounded a bit unsure, but the he let it slide, as he faded
again.
 
-.-.-
 
“Ah, Kaito, Toichi’s anniversary is coming up, we should start making plans,”
Chikage suddenly stated during lunchtime, while handling a piece of deer rump.
Her son looked up, in the midst of chewing, and sent a confirming look. Chikage
smiled in return, a small, nostalgic one, in memory of her husband and a third
of her life.
Sometimes, the remaining two Kurobas still can’t adjust to the fact of Toichi
simply not being there. It’s even been five years. Five excruciating years of
learning to live and adjust again. Especially when the images of the king being
assassinated – burnt to death – right in front of their eyes was always
lurking, always haunting in the shadows.
 
“I miss him,” Chikage continued, eyes filled with regret, “But of course, since
we’re royalty, we should have our backs against the wall most of the time,
right Kaito?”
 
The indigo-eyed boy knew this was his mother’s indirect way of warning her son
of the dangers and horrors of their world. Kaito, though, already knew too
well, as he eyes one of the wilting blue roses in the vase at the centre of the
table.
 
The indigo one looks like it’ll wilt next.
 
“Your majesty.”
Chikage looked up, to the panting messenger in the doorway, “What is it?”
“One of the rulers of the outsider monarchs wishes for me to pass a word on to
you,” The girl panted, face pale and sweat beading around her forehead and
neck. Kaito’s eyes grey hard. Chikage stilled, before putting down her cutlery.
 
“Continue.”
 
-.-.-
 
Shinichi can’t help, but sometimes feel just a tiny bit trapped, a bug in a
large glass container, able to wander around, but not entirely free.
 
Being a spirit ensnared in a mirror wasn’t how most people would like to spend
their eternity, but he wasn’t always like this though, and he was once able to
walk on free two legs, human legs, with a boisterous smile and a bit of a
snarky sense of humour.
 
That was years ago, he hummed, no point in growing nostalgic about it now.
He still wishes he could forget. Shinichi’s life wasn’t a happy, sappy
storybook in general, being an aristocrat and all; his daily routines always
had at least a chunk of the day dedicated to ‘avoid getting murdered, brutally
or discretely’.
He was alive in a chaotic era, where warfare was plentiful and the country’s
current king had disappeared suddenly. Children with connections with the royal
family were in high tide and high risk.
 
His parents were discreet, with a stiff, faux hide draped over secrets and
hidden plans. Kudou Yuusaku and Yukiko were much respected, but they knew
something everyone else didn’t – it showed in their eyes, and they weren’t
going to announce it anytime soon.
Shinichi wasn’t allowed outside for long periods of time, and when he was, he
was always by the sides of his parents, carefully tracing his every step.
 
Shinichi, only seven years old, stood around the corner to his father’s office,
ars straining to pick up each and every word. But as he did so, he was only
more and more confused.
 
“And so we need to find somewhere to let Shinichi live in secret.”
 
“Yes, so we don’t let Pandora fall into their hands. We can’t.”
 
Shinichi decided that he shouldn’t pry on the conversation anymore, and
shuffled slowly back to his room, trying to put together the new thoughts.
 
As the years wore by roughly, with rebellion activities rising within the
kingdom and nearby countries discovering their opportunities for conquest,
Shinichi’s best friend and the son of a commander, Hattori Heiji, an optimistic
and enthusiastic boy the same age as the aristocrat, stubbornly offered the boy
to live with them, where every day was more peaceful and less filled with a
back to the wall, and every moment he couldlive again.
 
Yuusaku and Yukiko looked back at their son one last time, before setting out
into the dawn, air still and stifling, as they don’t intend to return.
Days later, they were assassinated in the dead of the night, still in the
carriage towed along by the pristine white horses, a snipe to the hearts.
 
-.-.-
 
Shinichi looks backwards, from standing in the middle of the nothingness he’s
come to call home, eyes dry, and tries to discard the brutal, unforgiving
images of the rebels storming the house, stabbing Heizo-san, choking Shizuka-
san, fleeing out into the woods with Heiji, where shrubs scratch at his skin
and the air is crusty with dry and drying blood, and his best friend’s emerald
green eyes filled with hate and choked desperation, and irises cloudy with the
will to live and to fight.
 
Shinichi realises how weak he truly was at that moment.
 
And how he takes things for granted, always, as he scrambles for his own sake
as Heiji takes painful two arrows in the back for him, collapsing onto the
ground with a dull thud and breath heavy, the blood– so sacred and yet so
devastating – seeping through his clothes. The taste and smell and sight of
putrid, pungent smoke, fire, blaze was beyond devastating, and he couldn’t even
comprehend the hoarse screams and cracked sobs which he only recognised as his
own, and Shinichi’s tears run down silently in large drops – and is that blood
or tears on his hands –
 
“Shinichi.”
 
The spirit stills, before turning his attention to Kaito, his reason for
existing now, the one who rescued him. He allows himself to appear in front of
the mirror and gives a small, idle wave. The prince’s eyes were hard and
serious, as he stated, “Country-wide emergency. We’re going to war.”
 
-.-.-
 
This must be the major climactic point in my life right now, what the
hell,Kaito grits through clenched teeth. Commanders and soldiers are
everywhere, and scouts on the watch, as he straps on his own armour, feeling
the density and coolness of the metal. He could spot Hakuba Saguru, one of the
major tacticians, striding alongside Nakamori Aoko and Mouri Ran, two
commanders for the attack-wise troops, both high in status.
They were planning to ambush the opposition first, to reduce casualties on both
sides and to suppress enemy troops faster.
Sera Masumi, the Lieutenant Colonel, tapped Kaito on the shoulder, and her face
was void of any of the normal easygoing attitude that was normally situated in
the curve of her eyebrows or the wideness of her grin.
“Highness, troops are stationed for further orders.”
Kaito drew in a long breath.
 
“Division 15, be ready for potential scouts and spies and be on full awareness.
Division 18, sector 2, take the lead, we’re setting out.”
 
-.-.-
 
There was the jagged scent of iron everywhere, coating everything, red and
black.
“They knew we were coming,” Kyogoku Makoto hissed, wiping the blood from his
mouth as he gripped his lance.
“Sneaky bastards,” Masumi sneered.
 
“Highness!” A distressed looking relay messenger rushed over, hands on knees
and panting as his eyes showed distress. Kaito raised an eyebrow, silently
praying nothing happened back at the palace. His hopes went unanswered.
 
“Th-the palace is burni-”
 
Kaito cursed, flipped onto his horse and rode off as fast as he possibly could,
because if he doesn’t, he’ll very surely be regretting it, leaving his troops
and commanders and colonels behind in the wake of the dust.
 
-.-.-
 
“K-Kaito!” Chikage stuttered, stumbling over to her dear son like the world was
out to get her, “The palace is burning..!” Kaito’s heart twisted and wrenched,
but kept the straightest face he could hold.
 
“I’m going,” He gritted, and the queen looked up in horror, “Kaito, you’re not-
”
 
“I am,” His voice was steely cold and dead serious, “I’ll be back, get to
safety.”
 
“Wait-”
 
He was already gone, rushing towards the scattered ruins and the hungry flames
licking at the once-glorious palace. Chikage could only pray and weep for
protection and safety.
 
-.-.-
 
Shinichi, the young prince gritted, where are you?
 
The smoke was thick and stubborn, as he hacked and made his way in further,
scanning each and every room for identification of the glinting piece of glass
which held his spark and his truth and life.
He threw open a door which was still seemingly untouched (He, in haste, doesn’t
bother identifying who’s room it was), and in the midst, he found the familiar
figure idly standing in the middle of the room, facing away from Kaito,
unmoving.
 
“Shinichi..?” The words left Kaito’s mouth before he even realised it.
 
“Kaito?” Shinichi’s words were strained and surprised, as he turned around, and
Kaito could see his skin turn more and more alabaster by the second. His breath
caught in his throat as he paced over to the spirit boy. Shinichi’s eyes
widened in panic as he screamed, “No, stay away!”
 
“Wha- mmph!” Kaito felt a rough hand clamp his mouth as he saw Shinichi watch
with haunted eyes. In the distance, the flames grew, crackling and blazing.
 
“Heh, who would’ve thought the prince would willing come back for his magical
mirror?” A rough voice laughed. Kaito’s eyes narrowed, he recognised that
voice. Snake was one of the people who declared war onto them, in hope of
domination and rule, his country being seen as weak or too insufficient.
“Let go of Kaito, you bastard,” Shinichi spat, but he knew he was unable to do
anything as long as he was tied to the mirror. Kaito fought his captor but it
only resulted in him being gripped tighter. He cursed his inability to do
anything.
 
“Your damn country’s the reason we’re looked down on,” The moustached man
bristled, “So we’re gonna show you just who you dared to underestimate,” A
sound of a gun cocked near his head, and a bead of cold sweat dripped down his
face. “Don’t,” Kaito growled.
 
“So I’m going to show you who’s boss, and-” Snake didn’t find the opportunity
to finish his sentence before Kaito twisted the man’s jaw and hauled his body
weight onto himself and flipped him over in one fluid movement.
“You brat,” He cussed, and grabbed his gun again, and pointed it to the panting
prince.
 
“Stop.”
 
Both heads turned to Shinichi, who was slightly trembling, but his voice was
solid. “Please, stop..”
 
“You won’t be able to do anything,” Snake cackled, a rough, scratchy howl which
sounds like someone sandpapered his throat. Kaito felt his hackles rise, and he
lunged at the man, tackling his at the waist, dragging him down, as he tried
his best to stay out of the way of the gun waving dangerously all over the
place.
He found that being grabbed by the hair and having a gun next to the temples
isn’t a particularly pleasant experience, and he sure wouldn’t be telling his
children or grandchildren about the experience lest they try it for themselves,
that is, if he’s alive for more that two minutes now at most.
 
“Say goodbye to your friend, you shitty prince.”
 
And something inside Shinichi snapped, full on and very apparent, as he stormed
over and slapped the gun straight out of Snake’s hand, growling and tears
brimming, as he spat, “You never speak of Kaito like that,” His eyes glazed
over with anguish and hate and the tiny little emotions of retaliation,
“Never.”
 
And he let the tears flow, down and down, until they dropped lazily off his
chin, falling and falling, and Kaito couldn’t believe his eyes, couldn’t
believe the scarlet leaking down Shinichi’s face, the deep, vermillion-crimson
colour of fresh blood.
 
Snake laughed, a victorious, slightly crazed laugh that pieced the air like a
hammer striking hot metal.
“It’s here!” He roared, “This is Pandora!” And he lunged, a crazed smile
spreading over his face. Kaito came right after him, intent on stopping his
movement, and Snake was less that pleased. “Don’t fucking get in my way! I’m
taking the immortality! I’m taking Pandora!” Kaito made a noise of pain as he
was elbowed in the ribs harshly.
 
Shinichi watched in horror, and saw that Kaito’s path wasn’t ending well, so he
could do the only thing he could for Kaito, for himself, even.
 
So he snatched the gun off the ground, turned with brows furrowed towards the
large mirror on the wall, and fired.
 
The gunfire was like a small explosion, setting off at the speed of a
heartbeat, and the bullet itself with implanted in the glass, cracks spreading
like a wildfire, and the reflections became broken as the pieced shattered onto
the ground, with everyone unmoving and tense.
 
“What-”
 
“Go to hell,” Shinichi screamed as he cocked his gun towards Snake and fires a
shot for the second time of that day. The bullet was lodged straight in the
middle of the skull, and the crazed man slumped down, lifeless and nothing more
than a corpse.
 
“Shinichi..?” Kaito murmured, eyes still wide, and watched as Shinichi shivered
in horror and dropped the gun, looking down at his hands and at himself. His
pale, alabaster skin was regaining colour as the mirror continued to crumble,
slowly, and his eyes a more deep, ocean blue than ever. The remaining tears on
his face faded into transparency, losing the gentle, crimson glow.
 
“K-Kaito..” He whispered, “I could.. I could feel the gun..”
 
The prince was next to him in a second, indigo eyes wide in wonder, as he cups
a hand on the other boy’s cheek, like he has many times with the mirror instead
of him, and feels the heat and feels the velvet of his skin, reassuring himself
that it’s no longer a ghost. Shinichi looked just as painfully joyful as he
was.
 
And then the door burnt down, unable to withstand the heat any longer,
spreading over the ground, and towards the two boys at the far end of the room.
Kaito furrowed his brows, and tugged Shinichi towards the window, where he
smashed his elbow into it, and jumped, down and down.
 
“K-Kaito?”
 
Kaito turned around, instinctively stepping in front of Shinichi in a defensive
position.
 
“..Aoko?” The prince stared at his childhood friend, “Aren’t you supposed to be
at the front lines?”
 
The messy-haired girl looked up with wide, concerned eyes, “I left the troops
to Ran, and followed you here, but I saw you go into the palace and- shit,
Kaito we need to get out, the buildings aren’t holding for much longer!” Aoko
gritted, dodging a piece of flying wood (The fire must’ve found it’s way to the
gas storages, she thought heatedly), “Who’s that behind you? I’ve never seen
him before,” She hollered over explosions.
 
“Introductions later, we need to save our asses first-!”
 
-.-.-
 
“We’re alive.. we’re alive,” Aoko panted, as they stopped in the midst of a
clearing in the forest, wiping sweat from her forehead. She gave a solemn nod
as Chikage rushed over to check his son over for injuries. Shinichi stood a bit
further away, eyes glancing around for any sign of danger. He still couldn’t
believe that his hands were warm and that tree bark was so rough. It was years
since he felt anything like this.
 
Kaito walked over with a silly grin on his face, followed by a curious Chikage,
and Aoko on alert in case he tried to attack or anything of the sort.
 
“Aoko, mother, this here is..” He gave a small laugh, twinkling and ringing
like a small bell, “Actually, I should show you guys instead,” And with that,
he leant in, and Shinichi felt his lips being pressed upon softly, as he closed
his eyes. Chikage could not be more delighted as she clapped her hands, and
Aoko was a bit tight-lipped and stunned to the spot. The guards nearby flushed
a little, and some looked away.
Shinichi could never be more content and happy with his life.
 
In the distance, the castle gave a faraway boom, signalling the demise of the
area, but no one seemed to care in that moment.
***** Heiji/Shinichi – “-Incomprehendable dark art chanting-” *****
Chapter Summary
     Ran glances over her shoulder with a slight laugh while flipping
     through the booklet of items needed for the procedure. “Er, we still
     need a pint of pork fried rice, issue #212 of the Fantastic Four..”
     She trails off, slightly dumbfounded, “And half a cup of rabbit
     poop.”
Chapter Notes
     Prompted by CrystalHopeDragon.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Drabble 21
Heiji/Shinichi – “-Incomprehendable dark art chanting-”
Chapter warnings: eXORCISM AND WALKING TALKING DEATH MAGNETS
---
 
Kazuha didn’t know when she started to realise, but she did. It was probably at
one of the many cases you receive when you deliver Kudou Shinichi and Hattori
Heiji as a package deal out on a silver platter to the world.
At first, she thought it was purely coincidence that they seemed to have
falling corpses, drug deals, hangings and mugging attempts and, hell, even an
exhibitionist white-clad thief (That one’s probably more directed specifically
to Shinichi rather than Heiji, actually) and that fate had a sense in irony and
had it collide with their occupations as detectives.
With some points in mind, (One; Heiji and Shinichi needed purification or
something even remotely related, and two; refer to point one) she books a
ticket for the train to Beika, intent on meeting up with Ran to discuss their
current problem at hand.
 
And that’s how, a few weeks later, they ended up in Agasa-hakase’s basement,
fiddling with the tiny bits and pieces and struggling to assemble some strange
machine that a red-head self-proclaimed ‘witch’ lent to them for the time
being. Now, if only that Koizumi girl would spare a ‘how to assemble’ manual
for them too, that’ll be a huge help on her part.
 
“Uh, Kazuha-chan, do you know how to draw a magic circle?” Ran asks hesitantly,
holding up a – glowing? – piece of chalk and a bottle of holy water in the
other hand while the ponytailed girl furrowed her brows, trying to hotwire the
dented scrap of metal only known as a four-wheel drive with malfunctioning
pedals. She looked up to the long-haired girl a heaved a sigh through her nose.
 
“We should Google that.” Ran nodded in return, as she turned away to place
other bits and pieces and unexplainable otherworldly pieces in place.
 
“Sheesh, who uses a broken boat paddle in a exorcism procedure?” Kogoro
grumbled, throwing a piece of wood to the side, “This is just damn ridiculous,
I mean, that detective brat doesn’t actually receive as much cases as me, does
he?”
 
“Tou-san!” Ran scowled disapprovingly, “We’ve talked about this before!”
 
“Er, some of these things actually do make sense,” Agasa pushes his glasses up
as he places a bible, three white candles and a sage leaf on the floor, “We
need somewhere to bury the candles though –ow, my old back-!”
 
“We’re offending thousands of Catholics by the second,” Ai scoffs, spinning a
pair of handcuffs on her finger and holding a stuffed bear in her other hand,
“The number of people who, if they knew about this, would storm into the house
and hold siege and demand the devil to devour our souls? Astronomical.”
 
“Er, Ai-chan, you do know what you’re talking about?” Ran glances over her
shoulder with a slight laugh while flipping through the booklet of items needed
for the procedure. “Er, we still need a pint of pork fried rice, issue #212 of
the Fantastic Four..” She trails off, slightly dumbfounded, “And half a cup of
rabbit poop.”
 
“..Ran, book me an appointment with the ear specialist tomorrow,” Kogoro holds
a hand up to his face.
 
Kazuha’s perky phone rings through the room, and she frowns as she picks it up,
“Heiji?”
The room grows silent, all listening to what they could of the call. Kazuha
glances around and puts it on speaker.
 
“Ya ahou, you’re not at the old man’s agency, where did you and neechan go?”
The Osakan grumbles, “We’re on our way from the police station and- Oi, Kudou,
look to the sides when yer crossing a road, dammit!”
 
Out of the corner of the Osakan girl’s eye, she sees Ai and Ran clutching their
sides in silent laughter. They looked slightly purple in the face and that was
probably not a good sign right now.
 
“Ah, Heiji, we’re at Agasa-hakase’s house right now, uh, yeah, trying one of
his new gadgets. Uh, Heiji? Heiji?”
 
“Kudou! What did I say about pokin’ a guy in the face when he’s already been
poisoned in that car?” The voice from the phone growled, and Kazuha shut the
phone with an annoyed scowl, and turned to Ai and Ran, the latter now choking
as she leaned against the wall and the former walking out the door of the
basement calmly, but still a bit purplish-blue in the cheeks. Her laugh echoed
down the basement stairs.
 
Kogoro yawned, “Looks like we still have time then.”
 
“Right, we should hurry this along,” Agasa nodded with the detective.
 
-.-.-
 
“Atamatsu-san, you knew the victim’s habits well enough to know what he adjusts
his seat level every time he drives, and so you applied cyanide to the lever
and convinced him to buy sushi and eat while driving,” Shinichi declared,
brushing off the imaginary dust from his clothes while he looked at the forty-
something year old man dead straight in the eye. Atamatsu could only stutter in
reply.
 
Heiji looked from the sidelines quite amused, and found Inspector Megure poking
his sides discreetly, “So, when are you going to, you know, propose?” He
whispered.
 
Heiji blinked, then choked on his own spit.
 
“W-wait, what?” He grasped around for words, “Me an’ Kudou are just best
friends! Best friends, yeah, nothing more, the hell, man?!” He babbled, waving
his hands around. Megure raised an eyebrow and his moustache bristled.
“I didn’t specify Kudou-kun,” His eyes glimmered in triumph, “But it looks like
I won the division-wide bet. Shiratori-kun won’t even see this coming.”
 
“Wait, what?” Heiji yelped, “You had an entire bet?”
 
“Well, there was a lot of contestants for the betting pool on who’s going to
reveal their young love to Kudou-kun first,” He hummed nostalgically at the
words ‘young love’, “There’s Ran-kun, Masumi-chan, Hakuba-kun, Kaitou KID,
Ayumi-chan, the other little girl – Haibara Ai? – and the poor, old homeless
man a few blocks away from the police headquarters-”
 
“Is something wrong, keibu?” Shinichi walks up to them, face quizzical. Heiji
whips around and pastes a plastic grin on his face. Inside, he was mortified.
“Ha.. ha ha ha, Kudou, let’s get back to neechan and Kazuha and the others,
they should be waiting for us so they can go to the karaoke place,” He steered
the confused boy towards the old professor’s house just a few more blocks down
(They were already at the front of the Mouri Detective Agency anyways).
 
“Ah, alright,” Shinichi balanced himself, and sent a glance to the inspector,
“Megure-keibu, we’ll be-”
 
“What?! Hattori-kun!?” Takagi jumped when Megure whispered in his ear, before
slinking back down under Shinichi’s intensely curious gaze and Heiji’s ‘I will
decapitate you’ look.
 
“Satou-san was betting on KID, keibu, so you should watch where you step when
you’re in her five meter radius,” Heiji barely managed to pick out from the
whisper. He felt a vein sprout on his head. Shinichi just looked plain clueless
as he half-looked at Heiji and Takagi and Megure and half-looked at Satou
clicking the cuffs on Atamatsu.
 
“Heiji, let’s go, Ran and Touyama-san will probably already be waiting,” He
tugged insistently at the other’s sleeve. Heiji shot one last murderous look at
the officers then turned and started to walk, faint dusts of pink still
lingering on his cheeks as he watched Shinichi almost walk into a pole and
laugh.
 
-.-.-
 
“Hurry,” Ai hissed, “I can hear the door opening, you damn asses!”
 
Kazuha wanted to point out that a girl her age shouldn’t be using language like
that, but instead tried to focus on fixing the position of the candles into a
perfect equilateral triangle and Ran was readying her axe in case the devil
decided that he didn’t like them and tried to snatch their souls or some shit.
Agasa was standing to the side looking confused and rubbing his back, while
Kogoro was lying down on the floor with a headache (Most likely from the sheer
ridiculousness of the entire fiasco).
“Oi, Kazuha? Anyone here? Geez, what the hell, they’re scared of ghosts an’ the
crap, but then they disappear too! Kudou, that’s your fucking sixth cup of
motor oil today, not includin’ the tiramisu from lunch..!”
 
“It’s not ‘motor oil’, Hattori, your pronunciation of ‘coffee’ is
astronomically far off,” Shinichi growled back, “I’ll check the basement,
Hattori.”
 
“I’ll come with you, wait up,” The western detective called back, before a rain
of footsteps signalled that they were advancing to the exorcism area fast.
 
“Ah, shit, someone bite me,” Kogoro moaned from the floor, as still as a
corpse. No later than a split second after, the door slammed open and showed
two teenage detectives fantastically clueless and blank-faced.
 
Kazuha decided, in a nutshell, that they were screwed.
 
“Ran-chan, start the chanting!” She ordered, and the long-hared girl
immediately dropped the heavy metal axe and began flipping through the pages
frantically, “Uh, uh, I can’t find the pa- oh, here, uh..” Meanwhile, Kazuha
hurriedly shoved the two dumbfounded boys into the room and onto the ‘magic
circle’, “Eeny meeny miny mo, catch a Tigger by the toe..” Ran chanted
flusteredly, “Er.. wait no, my mum makes me mash my M&Ms every Monday morning-
wait no, that’s not it!”
 
“Dammit, Ran-chan, give me the stupid book, let’s see,” Pages flip, “Dammit,
abracadabra, uh, screw this, just throw them the magic item!” And with that,
Kazuha flung a small, white tube of something at a blinking Shinichi and a
gaping Heiji, both with their minds still lagging behind and encountering
‘error, does not fucking compute’ messages in their normally fast-working and
genius young minds.
The door slams, and it’s only them two left in the room. Heiji looks around
slowly, a tiny bit spooked, if not immensely creeped out.
It was around twenty seconds later that he looked at the white bottle Kazhua
hurled at Shinichi, which the latter was holding right now.
 
“…” Heiji rubbed his eyes, “..Am I growing senile or does that read ‘lube’?”
 
Shinichi looked down at the object, “..No, I think I am too. I’ll need glasses
too.”
 
Silence ensured between them, and Heiji distinctly hears Kazhua and Ran
chattering behind the basement door. Heiji jumps as if a lightning bolt struck
him, “Holy shit, what-”
“Hattori?” The Osakan teen whipped his head around to find his counterpart
staring embarrassedly at the lube, face slightly flushed and fidgeting, and
before Heiji’s brain shortcircuits, he feels heat rising to his cheeks too.
Shinichi looks up, laughing a bit and his lips a bit more shinier and brighter
than before, “It’s getting a bit hot in here, isn’t it?”
“Oi, Kudou, s-snap outta it, this is obviously some spell or some other hocus-
pocus,” He stutters, mentally slapping himself. Of course it has to be what
Kazuha did, judging from the setup of this room. But, okay, maybe he was a tiny
bit thankful for them, because he wouldn’t see Shinichi like this in a lifetime
or even three if it wasn’t for their obsessive supernatural beliefs.
 
“Hattori,” Shinichi moaned again, and the sound went straight to Heiji’s
crotch, as his blush deepened, “I can’t think straight.”
 
Heiji pasted on a weak smile. Something tells him that when this is over, he
may or may not be getting a soccer ball to his precious areas.
 
-.-.-
 
“Ran-chan, we’ve been tricked, that was a fucking lust spell we chanted!”
Kazuha growled, throwing her hands up in frustration as she continued trying to
block out M-rated sounds from inside the door. Ran was slightly panicky and
looked at her Osakan friend nervously, “Well, of course we didn’t know that
‘Just throw them the magic item’ was for a spell like that..”
“I knew there was somethin’ off when the list included a bottle of lube!” The
ponytailed girl paced back and forth, and almost stumbled into Ai. Said little
girl was leaning against the door, probably even enjoying the sounds. Kogoro
long excused himself to the bathroom and Agasa’s moustache was twitching every
now and then.
“Uh, so is there a spell that reverses it, or something like that?” Ran asks,
and Kazuha sighs, “Yeah, but do we actually have a bottle of Chanel No.5
perfume?”
 
“Oh, I do!” The periwinkle-eyed girl brightened and rummaged through her
pockets, “The bottle smells a bit like curry, though.”
 
Kazuha took the pink bottle in hand, “Okay, I’m going in, so I just need to
spray it in the air while screaming these words?” She eyes the spellcraft book
with doubt, and takes a deep breath, “Here goes nothing.” Ran gives her friend
a sympathetic look.
 
She slams the basement door open with enough force to wake at least three
elephants, and screamed loudly, “LET US PRESERVE THE HOLINESS OF THE EYEBALLS
AMEN ALL.” Kazuha then proceeded to furiously spray the perfume everywhere and
on everything.
 
-.-.-
 
The first thing the supposedly virgin Detective of the East registers is the
fact that someone sprayed perfume smelling like wilted roses and laundry
detergent and chicken curry in the air in some attempt to murder innocent
noses.
 
The second is that there’s a hand down his pants.
 
And lastly he realises that it’s Heiji’s.
 
With a horrified shriek and a yelp his defensive instincts kick in at the speed
of five light years a second and he knees the other’s crotch with such
brutality and force that he might as well be rendered infertile.
This would definitely be something he would not be telling his grandchildren
when he’s old and almost deaf and only decent at sudoku.
And at the sidelines, Ai blankly dials the number for the ambulance and the
media while she was at it too.
 
-.-.-
 
Doctor Fujimine tapped his clipboard with an emotion he couldn’t name as he
peered up to the blue-eyed boy staring nervously back at him, then he looked
outside the hospital window to the rioting crowds and media down below as
Kogoro had his hands full from fending them off and dragging them back outside
from the main reception.
 
“Kudou-san, I’m honestly not sure whether I should ask you why apparently half
the police are screaming about some bet and the insane number of media and
SuperIntendant Hattori are plaguing the parking lot and why Hattori Heiji-san
is in surgery for reproductive problems.”
 
“It’s better if you don’t,” Shinichi replied meekly.
Chapter End Notes
     My cringy sense of humour is cringy.
     If I have offended anyone religious out there I'm really sorry. If
     push comes to shove I can take this down. Thanks all.
***** General – “Compromise the fragility.” *****
Chapter Summary
     And he becomes folded into again and again, crushed and tarnished and
     defied against his morals, standing in the corner with red washed
     over like a impressionistic painting, fingers curving around the
     knife, the manipulative silver which he used to hate like so, and he
     laughs.
     The laughter is nothing but sound.
Chapter Notes
     Set in my Split Personality AU (From drabble 16), but the plot is
     completely different.
     Okay whoa there is some seriously dark shit and horror in this
     chapter. If you’re aren’t comfortable with this, there is a magical,
     sunny icon up in the top left corner called the back button. Or the
     red cross in the top right. The red cross works too.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Drabble 22
General – “Compromise the fragility.”
Chapter warnings: Darkfic and horror elements.
---
 
In a stereotypical world like this, no one would even begin to suspect a child
of eight years old of a thing as far off as murder.
 
But he wasn’t eight, he probably wasn’t even eighteen anymore. Conan wasn’t
anyone now. He was someone who’d snapped long ago, something inside his mind
that had been so fragile and worn and strained which had been jerked and pulled
for years had broken.
 
It’s not that he hates to be alone, but it’s just that he’s afraid of the
distorted crack, growing and carving through the ground which he stands on like
a silent earthquake. And the red flows through it, glimmering like a million
rubies massacred and slaughtered into nothing but fragments, then poured
heartlessly into the abyss, which Conan stands next to.
A dark drop splashes onto his skin, contrasting the smooth alabaster, and
travels down sluggishly, and the bespectacled boy gazed upon it, not even sure
if it’s his tears or someone else’s blood anymore as it drips and drips.
 
(Always hurting, always healing.)
 
It doesn’t matter, to him, it’s all the same now.
 
He places his hand over his chest – an unfamiliar and strange action – and he
feels stillness. Nothingness. There’s nothing replacing the gaping hole where
his heart used to be, and he really couldn’t care less.
 
And he becomes folded into again and again, crushed and tarnished and defied
against his morals, standing in the corner with red washed over like a
impressionistic painting, fingers curving around the knife, the manipulative
silver which he used to hate like so, and he laughs.
 
The laughter is nothing but sound.
 
-.-.-
 
He only barely remembers the days before where everything around him was blue
and dry.
 
He can only feel his memories prance around in his hellish present. He’s
forgotten how to see, he’s forgotten if he can. If he takes another step,
breathes another breath in his old, sepia memories, he’ll crumble in the
present, and he’ll fall, into the jagged cavern of insanity and it’ll be
impossible to crawl out of it from then.
So he doesn’t move in his vivid memories, afraid of the loneliness and
melancholy of the possibility that if he did, the world crumbles, and he’s left
there, standing in the middle of oblivion where nothing exists anymore.
 
There were three children, playful and rambunctious. What were their names?
There was a boy and his accent and cap, a girl with chocolate hair and a smile,
a man clad in white and an enigmatic grin. What were their names?
..There was a boy in a blue uniform and a funny cowlick, sixteen and boastful,
his eyes some colour Conan doesn’t bother to name glimmering, and a ghost of a
large grin.
 
Who is he?
 
-.-.-
 
Heiji didn’t realise it until he found himself staring in horror at a boy,
eight years old towering over a man who laid still and deathly white. A sliver
of moonlight bounced eerily off a something of silver which the Osakan knew all
too well what it was.
A shudder, a gasp, and a small, pitiful pained sound and the boy drops the mad
glint of silver. It clatters on the floor with a shrill cling.
A choked sob, a hugging of the arms, a look of sheer revulsion, and he curls in
on himself, he crumples, and all that’s remaining is a tiny, furled ball of
nothing but a life gone wrong and time divided from his touches.
 
(While seeking solitude, I blend into everyone else.)
 
The Osakan stills from around the corner of the dank alleyway, repeating to
himself that it’s not true, that Ku-Conan wouldn’t do anything even close to
this. The boy he knew was bursting with life and grins and pride, and looked up
towards the camera every time.
 
(Vivid memories pierce where my heart was.)
 
Now though, Heiji remembers the paranoid glint in the midst of the cerulean
blue at the mere suggestion of the media, the blank, empty slate of the face
while looking at a corpse, the twitch of the shoulder, clamminess of the hands,
the voice devoid of emotions while pointing out the evidence.
The corpses still shake Heiji, even if he says nothing of the sort, they show
the madness and the sheer carnage of the world and those who reside in it.
 
But it’s a world like theirs that they live in, and it’s this world that
abandoned them, leaving them for the dead and the rotting.
 
-.-.-
 
Ran sees it. She sees the change in her surrogate brother over the years. The
familiar and bright tint to his smile and the colour in his cheeks and vivid
hues in his eyes have faded into something a little more inert, just a little
more silent.
 
(Like watching a secret plot unfurl.)
 
Ran doesn’t like it, she doesn’t welcome it to the boy who she’s looked after
for years, watching him grow and laugh and smile.
Now he comes home silent, not even an “I’m home,”, and Ran doesn’t realise he’s
there until she hears the rustling of paper – his tardy homework which he’s not
handing in on time anymore.
 
She’s asked Kazuha, she’s queried about it to Sonoko, and even questioned her
own father. They shake their heads at her and tell her that she’s delusional
and that the boy is perfectly healthy for his age. Ran knows better.
 
Another year passes and the calls from her detective-geek childhood friend
cease completely. It’s planted a tiny seed of worry in her, fretting over his
wellbeing and is he’s eating well if he’sstillalive.
It seems like Conan’s gone quieter over the years too, his youthful chirps and
whiny pleading ceased a decent amount, and he’s taken an interest in cooking as
well, so Ran lets him chop the onions and the baby tomatoes, listening to the
beat of the silver kitchenware hitting the board steadily.
He’s very skilled with those knives, Ran remembers thinking.
 
(We give agony a limit, unconsciously so.)
 
Conan’s actions have grown a bit stiffer too, and he isn’t as energetic as he
used to be. He’s barely grown, and he’s taken a strangely familiar to coffee –
absolutely no cream, no sugar and entirely pitchblack.
Ran washes the cups in the morning, rubbing at the brownish stains on the
inside of the mug, the smell of caffeine brings back painful memories of him.
 
She wonders where he’s gone.
 
-.-.-
 
KID frowns, squinting into the cityscape around him. He had fully expected his
favourite critic to arrive, slamming the door open with a look of triumph
playing upon his face.
But he knows that this may just be another of these heists to add to the many
others which his tantei-kun hadn’t shown up on.
The little detective had cut down of heists during the last year or so, slowly
but surely. KID – Kaito too – was worried at first, but he decided that the
miniscule detective needed a break too, and maybe some people do change over
time.
With a sigh, he draws back, and reaches into one of his many pockets to curl
his fingers around the Bloody Tear, a large, 25-carat red diamond from the
depths of the Argyle Mine from Western Australia.
Upon hearing the name and the urban legends – a man who’s gone missing when his
house was set on fire around 50 years ago was found in the ruins of the blazes,
unscathed by flames, but starved to death, and found shot in the heart – he was
sent in a giddy of anticipation, a candidate closer to Pandora then he’s ever
found. Kaito, on the other hand sternly tells him that, if it really was what
they were looking for all along, KID would have to be on high alert when he
showed the gem to the moonlight.
 
His nose pricked up. Something smelled like iron in the air, tasted like iron
on his tongue, bitter and familiar, and it was a tad bit concerning. Blood.
Was someone bleeding?
He hoped it wasn’t any of his fans, or the Task Force, or even the snipers.
These trigger-happy freaks stirred up trouble when they need to, but if someone
managed to spill their blood, KID was going to have to watch his each and every
step then.
 
And where was tantei-kun?
 
He hopped down from the ledge and descended into freefall, white wings of his
glider cutting the night air. The taste of sickening red grew thicker and
thicker, and it clogged his nose and mouth.
Something catches his eye, a glint, faint yet sure, in one of the alleys. The
thief frowned, that didn’t look natural to him.
Tantei-han? Was that his SAX cap in one of the dark corners? Kaito growled,
this was getting stranger and stranger. Something was so wrong, and it was like
that day his father died all over again, the inevitable sinking pit in his
stomach.
 
(Something wrong.)
 
With a graceful hop, he landed on the ground, his pristine cape behind him
flowing as he presses himself against the wall, listening for sounds and
anything to give him a basis for the situation. From his field of vision, it
seems like tantei-han wasn’t moving, and wasn’t intending to. His breathing
pattern seemed strangely shallow, if the fast rising and falling of his chest
was any indication.
KID decided that the only appropriate thing to do now was to ask directly the
western detective.
In his mind, Kaito grits his teeth and screams for his other self to just get
out of here and away. KID bluntly ignores him, the same unease steadily growing
and it’s not stopping anytime soon.
 
“Tantei-han.”
 
Heiji turns his head around at a supersonic level, possibly getting whiplash
and three or four cricks in the neck in the process, but the thing that really
makes the phantom thief freeze to the bone was what he was looking at, just a
mere few meters away, something utterly revolting and bone-chilling. It was
only with the pair of glasses with one lens shattered on the ground almost by
their feet that his brain decided to leap to conclusions – or what he hoped was
one.
 
“Tan-”
 
In his mind, Kaito punches his counterpart and glowers on him.
‘Do you think attracting his attention would do us any good right now?’ He
spat, shivering slightly. KID wipes the blood from his mouth and shakes his
head.
‘Sorry, you’re right.’
 
“KID?” Heiji mutters, as his gaze flickers back and forth, and his voice wavers
just a little, “Why are you here..?”
Kaito narrows his eyes while KID’s plastic grin stiffens and tightens just
slightly around the sides.
“What’s happening, Hattori-kun?” Kaito slammed in in place of KID, who was just
slightly speechless at the moment. The Osakan detective didn’t even seem to
notice the change in honorifics when his bottom lip trembled.
“That’s not Kudou, it’s not, it’s not,” He repeated. Kaito clenched a fist,
they needed to get out of here, fast, before Conan – Kaito’s deadly sure that’s
not Kudou Shinichi – hears even a peep from them.
But first, Heiji.
 
“This is no time for denial, Hattori-kun,” Kaito hissed, “We’re getting
out,now.”
The other could only grit his teeth and nod.
And they ran, far and farther. It was only when they saw the flickering lights
of the Task Force that they slowed, and Kaito flinched as the raw taste of
blood, previously faded, now grew stronger again. He turned his head behind
him, and caught the sight of a bowtie, the red he wasn’t even sure if it was
from it’s design or blood anymore.
 
(There’s sorrow, but in no need of redress.)
 
The boy wearing it was standing blankly around the corner, black from the night
eating away from his appearance.
 
-.-.-
 
Shinichi stopped counting the seconds in his invisible cage long ago, and
stares at the little patch of red on the floor.
 
The door clicks, something unreal, something imaginary, only there for effect,
and he turns his head sideways to see Conan standing there, faux sunny grin
forever imprinted on the childish face.
Underneath, though, is something hideous and born out of the detective’s own
bitterness and resent.
“Shinichi-niichan, how are you feeling?” He chirps. The boy receives nothing as
a reply, the sound of silence resounding in the room. Conan pouts, the look of
a spoilt child on the verge of a tantrum, but the red glow in his eyes are
still there. His blue jacket is crumpled and sporting crusty, dry patches. The
bowtie is still as a vivid red, seemingly untouched.
 
Shinichi’s watching a murderer. He’s stopped observing nowadays.
 
“Aw, Shinichi-niichan, you’re always no fun.. Ne, why don’t we play a game?”
The smile that comes along with the sentence is sickly sweet and coated with
poisoned honey.
The honey’s long expired already.
 
“I don’t wish to play, Edogawa-kun,” He replies blandly. Conan hums as he sits
down in front of his other self.
“But it’ll be fun, promise!”
 
(Standing in the midst of inhumane, yet also walking into it’s claws.)
 
“No.”
The grin spreads and stretches like a creeping pool of oil, and then lit on
fire, the red flames and blazes and ashes scattered everywhere, over
everything.
 
“You’re already playing, Shinichi,” He laughs a little as he cups a tiny hand
on the older boy’s cheek, and it’s cold, it’s lifeless, it’s the feeling of
death.
 
It’s the last thing he feels before everything explodes and he’s plunged in
white hot pain and bone-melting heat.
 
-.-.-
 
Hakuba Saguru was an observant person, someone who can read body language like
reading a mere book. Though, he admits, that the only person he couldn’t get a
complete grasp of was Kaitou KID.
 
And the child in glasses.
 
He thought it was just a normal night after a heist, Nakamori-keibu spitting
vivid and ear-splitting language, and the officers struggling in vain to peel
the sticky-putty off.
He didn’t expect a familiar white and blue top-hat to enter his vision and a
white and green cap, both hiding spooked and aged eyed beneath.
“Hakuba!” Kaito almost screams, and stumbled as he hauls Hattori Heiji along,
both as pale as ghosts, and it didn’t like a trick of moonlight.
 
“KID?” He almost stumbles over his words as he scans over the two figures with
a critical eye, “What happened?”
Kaito catches his breath unevenly, slightly shaking, and catches his words in
his throat. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t possibly tell the Task
Force to arrest Conan, because then they’d also be arresting Shinichi as well.
“It’s nothing,” He pants, and Saguru raises a disbelieving eyebrow, and the
scowl only grows.
“I do not take ‘nothing’ as a valid reason when you both look so dishevelled.”
Something behind them moves, like slinking death, and it clenches at the air,
and Kaito can’t turn around fast enough.
 
(When it turned twisted, it became serious.)
 
“Kudou-!” Heiji yelled, but the boy paid him no attention, eyes blank and the
way he walked was stiff, like a puppet. Kaito hissed, and back-pedalled away.
That’s Conan, not Shinichi.
It reeks of death everywhere, squealing and clawing, the stench of blood and
decay, rot, it clouds the atmosphere.
Something screams. To Kaito’s sheer horror the detective’s not where his eyes
were tracking him anymore. Heads turn, and something red flows to his feet and
it smells like rusted copper.
 
-Is-not-blood.
 
“Sensui!” Nakamori’s voice booms out, with a bitter and an angered undertone as
he launches himself towards the cowlicked boy now standing next to a bleeding
body, kitchen knife in hand, something folding into a monster by the second.
Before any of them could bite out something of a warning, Shinichi’s movements
were sweeping and sharp, something not even reflex anymore, but programming.
And more of the disgusting red splatters heavily on the pavement, except this
time, neither Kaito or KID can look, as they hear the choked noise of pain.
He twists the knife sharply, with fluid movement, like he’s done this a million
and one times, and Nakamori falls.
 
The blank eyes turn to Kaito, Heiji and Saguru.
 
(Drops of blood the knife so easily grazed.)
 
And in that instant, something flickers in his eyes, something a rich ocean
blue, as he smiles – real – and he holds the knife up in the air, blade
pointing down.
It shimmers in a red and brown glow like a jewel, and KID’s attention is
suddenly piqued, even when he’s focused and on guard in anticipation.
 
-.-.-
 
Conan desperately scrambles for control of the body, gritting and cursing
himself that he shouldn’t have let go of the control for even a millisecond,
scrabbles and eyes wide in horror, as his glasses fall with a crunch on the
floor.
 
Shinichi plunges the knife inwards.
 
(Compromise the fragility.)
Chapter End Notes
     I have nothing to say honestly.
     Bye.
***** KID/Shinichi – “Crossdressing is always the answer.” *****
Chapter Summary
     When shit hits the fan and next thing you know you’re at a bar drunk
     and in a skimpy dress and you’re pretty sure you weren’t intending
     for this when you signed up for a secret police.
Chapter Notes
     Set in my Mafia/Spy AU (From drabble 13)
     Also, SJP = Secret Japanese Police
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Drabble 23
KID/Shinichi – “Crossdressing is always the answer.”
Chapter warnings: Crossdressing and molesting.
---
 
Shinichi wasn’t normally the type to go to bars, oh no, he wouldn’t dare.
But somehow he’s here, sitting right in one, only on his second shot of gin,
and feeling sloozy and unfocused. Hey, no one ever told him that he couldn’t
hold his liquor and he never did try to find the answer to it.
But, okay, where was he? Oh, right, the bar. Wait, and the dress too. Can’t
forget the dress.
 
Kudou Shinichi was sitting at a bar, already mildly drunk, and wrapped up in a
cocktail dress.
 
The reason? An undercover infiltration mission.
It’s always a mission.
And it’s always for that damn mafia boss. He definitely didn’t sign up for
this.
KID was probably one of the most wanted of the people in his field (Trigger-
happy self-declared bosses) and is wanted for blackmail, theft, property
damage, bodily harm, break-ins, too much fashion sense (Wait, what?), sanity-
breaking hyena laughter (Okay, Shinichi admits that his laughs do sound
somewhat too mentally disturbing), and so the list goes on and on. Shinichi
doesn’t actually believe he’s too much priority since he doesn’t deal murders
or serial killings, but he’s only infamous for taunting the government and
basically just the powerful and all that shit in general.
Apparently, according to ‘reliable sources’ (Shinichi’s shooting a wild guess
that the SJP is just taking Akako’s advice too believably), their secret
gathering tonight is taking place in a shady bar like this.
Shinichi offered to take up the mission, with nothing better to do, and offered
to witness the meeting himself, and record any specific details straight
through the communicator he’s carrying to the Communication Sector.
 
But he’s denied all of the assumptions sniped at him saying that he’s taking
this case for meeting with that infamous mafia jerk, because denial is always
the way to go, right?
 
Of course, to infiltrate something like a mafia and criminal group tea party
(SJP assured him that there would be no civilians on the scene), you’d need a
disguise. And what luck it is that the SJP’s infamous master of disguise
happens to be his very own mother, Kudou Yukiko, and Shinichi honestly wishes
that his features didn’t scream ‘feminine’ when it came to measurements,
clothing size, how pretty his face was (Accidentally blurted out by Heiji on
his seventeenth birthday, but let’s not go there), and just the general female
stereotypical-ness, because that just causes the former actress to seize every
opportunity to doll him up in a dress or a skirt or ponytails or something
(“But Shin-chan, I even have the family albums to prove that you really did
wear a Lolita dress at that one family dinner!”Yukiko squeals) for important
things like this.
But it seems like Yukiko really doesn’t mind if her son’s virginity is at risk
or not, and she goes on and poofs a bikini out of nowhere to a sputtering
Shinichi. And it gets worse, the other time they had to disband a whore
auction, and the time where Shinichi tracked a serial poisoner to a girl’s
school and was forced into one of these skimpy skirts and-
 
“Hey, girlie, you look pretty lonely here. Want some company?” A man in his
fourties, slightly unshaven and clearly drunk whistles as he takes a seat next
to the blue-eyed boy, disintegrating all the thoughts. Shinichi flinched, and
buried his nose in the glass of alcohol in a scarce attempt to avoid the
impending situation. He could smell the pungent breath of the other man, and in
all honesty, he has the impulse to shove a toothbrush in the guy’s mouth.
“I’m fine, thank you very much,” He let the sarcasm drip into his tone to let
the other know that he wasn’t interested in whatever the older man had in mind.
Drunktards can’t seem to take the hint, though.
 
“Aw, you’re such a cold one. I’m here if you need me,” He had the decency to
nuzzle closer to the agent, and said agent wanted nothing more at that moment
than to flip either himself or the drunk-cuddly-pedo or someoneout of the
window so he could get away and run down the street screaming ‘bloody mur-
pedophiles’.
 
But he couldn’t, and his self-control meter was still at a decent level, so he
sat there unmoving, taking titanically large imaginary breaths, and counting to
362. The man next to him felt (finally) like he wasn’t going to get an answer,
so he sat back a little (To Shinichi’s tremendous relief).
 
There is actually filth like this that KID interacts with? Good lord.
It was when he went for another sip of his (bitter) drink that he felt the
clammy, meaty hands creeping slowly around his waist.
 
Ick.
 
There goes all the self-control in his imaginary meter, woosh, watch it
disintegrate into nothing.
Shinichi pushes away in disgust and, in a swift, fluid motion, he flings
himself on the table with one hand and round-house kicks the pervert soundly
square in the face. The older man stutters and howls in pain, and brings his
hands up to his nose – which was bleeding like a mountain stream – and Shinichi
quickly wipes his waist in disdain, trying to rid himself of the feeling of
unwanted touching and reminding himself that he’s a male.
“You bitch..” Oh is that sewer scum he hears talking again, “What was that?”
 
“What does it look like?” The agent muttered almost silently, but apparently
the bleeding-nose and the man sporting it heard, and he roared in anger, “I’m
going to teach you a lesson!”
Shinichi rolled his eyes dramatically as he dodged the lunge the older man made
for him, isn’t that what they always say?
“Get her!” The scum ordered while pulling himself up from the floor. The blue-
eyed couldn’t even process the sentence fully before a kick (From the pedo-
bastard’s goons?) was sent into his side, and he was sent hurtling into the
wall.
 
Colours blurred and bled into each other, and there was a flaring sting in his
side, and something tasting vaguely like blood coming from his mouth and over
the greasy lip-gloss. Something resembling fuzzy dark blurs were coming closer
and closer to him, and from the back of his lagging mind, he makes a discrete
note not to drink then bash his head into a wall of any kind.
 
“Let’s see how pretty she looks when she’s screaming for help.”
“Nah, I’d prefer her to have her mouth all clogged up.”
 
Something tugged at his dress, and he instinctively tried to scuttle away, as a
hand pulled the strap down lower and lower.
Another pulled at the wig – the wig, holy shit nonono.
“The fuck, it’s a boy!” A rough voice, like sandpaper exclaimed, “A
crossdresser!”
Rustling of the camouflaged pockets, “And from the Secret Police too!” Shit,
the badge.
“..He’s still pretty though, look at the face, it doesn’t make much
difference..”
 
His mind was still a bit groggy, from the aftershocks of most likely a
concussion, and the hands were everywhere now, here and there and around his
waist and gripping onto his thighs and-
Shit, he didn’t accept this mission to be played with by these perverted men,
and inhaled sharply as he headbutted one of them – late thirties, large build –
and let out a small whimper of pain, as he swept another off his feet with his
leg.
Someone grabbed hold of him by the knee and the arm, and he struggled and
flailed and kicked aimlessly for a good three seconds, painfully aware of the
half-open dress and the knotted wig on the floor and the hand slithering up his
thigh, before something suspiciously close to a gunshot rang out.
 
 
Nevermind, thatwas a gunshot. One that was fired dangerously close to them as
well, judging from the volume, and the ringing of his ears.
“Well, what kind of trash do we have here?” A sickeningly familiar suave voice
sang out across the room, and it seems like everything freezes at the mere
first syllable.
One overly courageous man spoke up, “K-KID-sama, we-we were.. uh.. we..”
KID strode over, fast and powerful steps, and smiled. It, however, held a layer
of ice over it.
“Spare me the excuses, what were you doing to this youn-” He glanced at
Shinichi, who was still trying to cover himself futilely and looked up with
mortification and vehemence. KID’s smile grew a little harsh and chipped around
the edges, “This visitor of ours?”
 
“Ah, sir, we-we..” The voice trailed off, sounding lost, and KID growled, yet
still managing to retain his perfectly untouchable smile, hard and cold,
“Fools, the lot of you.” And he fired a warning shot for the second time that
night, “Aoko,” He waved over to a messy-haired girl who focused her attention
when her name was called, “Yes, Kaito?”
“Cancel the gathering tonight.”
“What..?! Kaito, we can’t have that!” Aoko half-shrieked, eyebrows rising to
her hairline.
 
“Do it.” Nothing else was heard from anyone.
 
KID, seemingly satisfied, gave a grunt bordering scathingly seething and just
plain exasperated. Both came in large quantities. Shinichi stared in confusion
as the mafia boss proceeded to kneel down and scoop the agent up into his arms,
and it was then that he gave a squawk not unlike a parrot.
“KID, what are you doing?!” He sputtered, realising he was being carried bridal
style in wiry, muscular arms. KID hummed, indigo eyes with a sliver of blue
flickering and taking in the surroundings and the frozen statues sitting or
standing in the middle of the bar, as he strode towards the exit, Shinichi
still pawing for freedom in his arms, downright flushed on his cheeks.
 
“Dammit, are you deaf, you insensitive bastard?” KID twitched, he still had
human emotions thank you very much ehem, “Put me down, everyone’s staring!”
 
So, KID did like the sassy and snarky agent most of the time, but now, now is
just not the time, he decided, as he flicked up a small pill from the depths of
the folds of his suit, and popped it in his mouth, careful not to break it with
his teeth, then looked down at Shinichi dead serious – it earned him a curious
squeak – and flashed a predatory and dominant smirk, before leaning down and
kissing the cowlicked boy full on the lips.
It was too much teeth, and not enough tongue, but KID supposed it could do, and
it was warm and moist and sweet, with slight undertones of black coffee, and
KID absolutely relished it, scraping his tongue over the other’s and the roof
of the mouth and the teeth and everything, claiming the territory all over.
The other was, unsurprisingly, shocked for a full five seconds – brain lag much
– before trying to push himself away and sputtering midway into the kiss. He
couldn’t stop the inevitable white pill being passed into his mouth and made
forcibly swallowed.
Only when Shinichi began to feel slightly weak and losing control of himself
that he realised it was aphrodisiac.
“KID, you son of a..” He slurred off, and fell limp into the arms, his own arms
and legs suspended in midair.
“Sweet dreams, tantei-kun,” The other grinned back.
 
Aoko gaped like a fish behind him, save for all the other spectators present.
 
“Gotta make a delivery, seeya’, Aoko,” His laugh echoed around a room, but the
figure was out the exit.
 
-.-.-
 
“What the fuck, the bastards, they had the nerve to touch ‘im!” Heiji fumed,
pacing back and forward and possibly trying to put on a charade (unknowingly)
of a supremely-pissed hippopotamus.
Shinichi opened one bleary eye, then the other, and registered lying in a bed
with his blankets wrapped around him like some burrito gone wrong. No wonder he
was sweating like so, as he shifted under the layers of fabric.
“Hattori?” He croaked, and almost winced at the sand-papery feel his voice had
obtained overnight. The other tanned agent didn’t seemed to mind, as he padded
over quickly with a frown on his face, “How ya feeling, Kudou? I take that last
night’s mission was a failure.”
 
Huh, mission? What mis-
Shit no shitno.
 
“KID!” Shinichi screamed in utter horror, still wrapped in his cocoon prison
and now wriggling like a trapped caterpillar (would be comical if not the
situation), “I’m going to bash his head in from one side and out the other-!”
“Woah, Shinichi, calm down, calm down,” Ran consulted, suddenly appearing in
his vision, “First, let’s get these blankets off, since someone,” She shot a
pointed look to Saguru, who was sitting in one of the corners of the room –
Shinichi’s room – and blushing, “Was worried sick and decided four layers of
blankets would do you good.”
 
Four layers of peeled-off thick fabric later, the blue-eyed boy sat on the edge
of the bed in his pajamas, previously discovered that he was still sleeping in
that horrendous cocktail dress, changed out of it, and is now deciding whether
to go and dig himself a hole like a groundmole and stay in it forever and never
see the light of day again, or to bash his head in a wall (again) and hopefully
get amnesia while he was at it.
 
“So, Kudou-kun,” Saguru started off, slightly unsure, “What happened last..
night?”
Shinichi groaned, and put his head into his hands, “I don’t need this kind of
stress in my life right now.”
“Kudou, what happened? KID called us – we couldn’t trace the call, though –
really late last night and told us that he sent you to your house out cold. Did
something happen at the gathering?” Heiji grimaced, checking the younger boy up
and down for any telltale signs other than the atrociously large bruise on the
right side of the abdomen and a concussion – which resulted in Shinichi’s head
being wrapped in a guaze.
“Damn, can I just lie down first? My head is killing me right now,” Shinichi
groaned, as he went to lie down, and Saguru rushed over and scolded something
about using a pillow and Heiji rushed to get the painkillers and some water.
At the side, Ran chuckled, “Look at them, draping themselves all over you,
Shinichi,” and peered over the three, and Saguru flushed slightly and
straightened himself, while Heiji just straight out rammed into the doorway
before correcting his directions and finally headed for the painkillers.
 
When they were finally silent and Shinichi got his dear painkillers and three
cups of water, Ran piped up, “So..”
 
“Last night I had to crossdress to infiltrate a criminal gathering with KID as
the host and I notquitebutokaymaybe gotten a bit drunk and some person tried to
grope me so he’s now at surgery getting a nose job and maybe his goons kicked
me into the wall and tried to strip me and fucking KID comes and drugs me and
sends me home,” He states blandly, before rolling into his bed and flipping the
covers over his head.
Saguru boggled – what a sight it was, while Heiji was still standing there,
letting the words sink in, and Ran sighed.
 
“Mother of god, Shinichi, I’m surprised your chastity is still intact.”
Chapter End Notes
     OKAY SMUT NEXT CHAPTER SINCE IT'S BEEN FOREVER WHOOPS
***** General – “Raindrops, teardrops.” *****
Chapter Summary
     Outside, it’s a mess.
     Wind and clouds and sprays of water – sharp and slicing to the skin –
     fly everywhere. A pandemonium. There were still some people out on
     the streets.
     Fools, Conan thinks, to be out in sadistic weather like this.
Chapter Notes
     Translated lyrics from 濡れた髪に触れられた時 (Nureta Kami ni Furerareta Toki),
     or ‘That Time I was Touched by your Wet Hair’ (Sappy title yes, yes)
     by Yuuhei Satellite. God the song gave me intense feels like UGH WHY.
     I recommend the Iceon arrange more than the Autobahn remix though,
     unless you like electronicky dubstep so yeah.
     I wrote this when I was just utterly agitated and wanting to cry my
     eyes out at the same time so probably nothing’s going to make sense
     whoops.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Drabble 24
General – “Raindrops, teardrops.”
Chapter warnings: Angst because okay. Also virtually no plot.
---
 
(For sorrow and anger alike, their beginning always starts with you.)
 
It’s raining.
It’s blending into him.
It’s nothing but a paper-thin overcoat for the real drops of water.
And he stops, glasses smudged, clothes soaked, and stares at the patch of
vivid, ocean blue amongst the pitiful greys.
Some time ago, it was only a drizzle, then the clouds gathered, piled, until it
couldn’t be stopped.
 
(When I hid my tears in the rain, you raised your umbrella for me.)
 
“Hey, boy, what are you doing without an umbrella?”
The rain stops.
“It’s okay, have mine. I’ll be fine without one.”
But it still drips. Down and off.
“Let’s get inside first, how about the café over there?” A nod, small, subtle,
but noticed nonetheless, and he smiles, “Great, Poirot should be open right
now.”
He presses against the small boy, large, smooth hands gripping and steadying
the boy’s own, shaky fingers, as they pushed through the traffic and dull
splashes of other bland shades, raised in the air.
He smells like meadows and tinges of coffee and fresh-printed paper. There’s no
rain.
The smell is familiar, like holding a photo album of memories you don’t have
anymore.
 
(That time when I was touched by your wet hair, the painful pulsation within my
chest beat fast.)
 
The older boy’s hair is plastered onto his face, the remainder of water flowing
like waterfalls. The traffic light is tinged an unexciting shade of deep
maroon, blunted by rain. The pedestrian light flashes in the same way as the
traffic lights, in a lifeless deep green.
His footsteps are large and traversing, legs wiry and muscular, but still lean.
The shoes are tattered around the soles, and the fading blue jeans maybe just a
size too small.
The bell jingles, a sad, melancholic sound nobody ever really pays close
attention to, and the door welcomes in a dash of rain and wind and debris along
with it. He closes it hurriedly, and plucks the umbrella up and folds it in.
The water runs, drips.
“Table for two?”
“Yes please, thank you, Amuro-san.”
“Anytime.”
 
(Your kindness that drenches my shoulders is like foul play, all the more
stealing me away,)
 
They sit in silence, relishing the emptiness of the place, absence of the
people usually here for lunch rush. Blue eyes flicker here and there out of
slinking curiosity.
A woman in her twenties, medium length blonde hair, definitely foreign, wears
glasses like him. An older man, already sporting white hair and a bristly white
moustache and also glasses, sits opposite her, stirring his tea slowly, almost
religiously.
Another man over there, peculiar long, silver hair and dressed in black like he
was going to attend a funeral, sitting with another man wearing sunglasses and
a slightly flat chin. Two tables over, a woman, sharp, icy eyes and flowing,
blonde hair. A bottle of vermouth sits near her empty wine glass.
 
“Two lemon pies and two straight black shots. Anything else?”
“Nothing, thank you.”
It’s been almost years since he’s had coffee like that. A small sip, slightly
wary, tells him that it’s a refreshing kind of bitter, something familiar,
something relished.
Left hand under the porcelain cup, two fingers around the handle, and the thumb
pushing against the edge as he brings it in for sip number two. The stranger
mirrors his actions without even looking upwards.
A drop patters onto the table, leaving a brown trail in it’s wake.
Left hand grips the butter knife, thumb situated on the top edge of the blade.
Right hand grips the fork like a food critique, steady as the blade cuts
through, and the white of the plate shows.
He subconsciously follows.
 
“What’s your name?” He asks between small mouthfuls of aromatic coffee and
lemon filling.
“Ku-Edogawa Conan.”
“Conan-kun, nice to meet you. I’m Kudou Shinichi,” He beams from his cup. Conan
sinks his head lower.
“Nice to meet you, Shinichi-niichan.”
The thunder growls low and fortissimo outside. The droplets of rain, tiny balls
of water patter even harsher onto the ground, and everything else as well.
 
(Without even raising the umbrella in the rain.)
 
Something rings, shrill and high yet concealing an undertone of regret, and it
stops as Shinichi picks it up, “Hello, Ran?”
For a few seconds, there was nothing but the sound of pounding rain and cold,
tight thunder and the coffee goes cold in Conan’s grasp. He grips the handle
tighter in vain and a simple fruitless attempt to warm it up again.
“I’m sorry, Ran, I’m still on this huge case. This is really important to me,
and I’m getting close to solving it, but I’ll try to come home as soon as
possible.” A pause holding unsaid questions and unconsidered answers, “Yes, it
has been three years already. I’m sorry.”
He hangs up with a lonelybeep and sighs.
 
Something grows inside Conan, churning and twisted, and he asks slowly, “A
case?”
Shinichi turns his head and tucks his phone – red with a soccer strap, exactly
like Conan’s old phone – and his eyes turn strained, and suddenly the lingering
eye bags seem so much more visible now.
“Yeah, I can’t go home because of it.”
“Can you tell me about it?” Conan’s childish, cattish act is thrown into the
corner, forgotten.
 
(Now I feel this present time is even sweeter than the beautified past.)
 
“It’s.. something I’ve been trying to destroy for the last few years,” A
melancholic hum, “Years, huh? It doesn’t even feel like time anymore. Every
day’s the same, don’t you think?”
Conan only nods, eyes tracing out randomised patterns the raindrops created on
the window, each drop looking as empty and glassy as the last. Each drop is a
day he’s lost. Each drop is a piece of his soul which he’s turned into a white
lie turned black.
 
“Ah, I’m sorry, Kudou-kun, Poirot’s almost at it’s closing time, but you can
stay a bit longer until the rain subsides, if you’d like,” The blonde waiter’s
voice pipes up, and Shinichi’s eyes take a lone glance outside at the chaos and
shakes his head.
“We can leave now, otherwise it might get worse.”
 
(In our world shrouded by the rain, as long as we’re together, we’ll persist.)
 
Outside, it’s a mess.
Wind and clouds and sprays of water – sharp and slicing to the skin – fly
everywhere. A pandemonium.
There were still some people out on the streets. Fools, Conan thinks, to be out
in sadistic weather like this. There was an old man, slightly more round than
others his age, trying his best to shield three children from the cold with one
flimsy, multicoloured umbrella.
Another little girl, short, strawberry-blonde hair and a piercing gaze grips
her handle of her red and white umbrella. The words APTX are splayed over the
top of the umbrella.
A boy and a girl, one dark-skinned and wearing a baseball cap likely to fling
out into the rain anytime now and the other’s hair held up in a dainty
ponytail. They were bickering as they still held the grip of the emerald-green
umbrella together.
Another girl with messy hair holding a baby-blue umbrella walking alongside two
boys holding a white and blue striped umbrella together. One of them looked to
be British.
And a girl, chocolate hair and soft, periwinkle eyes standing on the pavement
without any shelter. The rain drips all over her.
 
(That time when I was touched by your wet hair, I understood that I didn’t want
to relinquish this distance between us.)
 
Something snapped inside both of them when they laid eyes on her.
The rain just stopped, quivering, like it was holding back, before storming
down, down, down into a rushing, forced torrent of his lies, his masks,
evasions and all of what he’s never wanted to be.
The things he hated, he’s become, so easily.
 
(Just by you being there, I’m both relieved and uneasy.)
 
Conan stands while the tsunami runs. The multicoloured umbrella’s gone. The red
and white’s disappeared as well as the forget-me-not blue and the blue and
white.
Ran’s no longer standing in the middle of nothing. She’s been engulfed by rain
and the twisted heartaches and frantic worry and nostalgia washed down with it.
 
Only Shinichi’s still there, with his contrasting, hopeful blue umbrella, and a
downhearted but encouraging smile. His hands are warm and comforting in
Conan’s, as the sound of water – sound of their sins and weaknesses and the
symbols of what fools they had transformed into crashes into them like a wall.
 
The water envelopes them, throwing them off their feet, swirling into it’s
arms. Every little movement they move is counteracted, and they can’t move –
won’t move.
Conan looks up to Shinichi with eyes of nothing.
Shinichi looks back at him and mouths something vague and blurred into a flurry
of rain, rain, tears.
And he’s gone, leaving Conan alone in the icy torrent and suddenly with a
burning of his throat and begging of the lungs for oxygen.
The sapphire-blue umbrella is swept away, out of his reach as his fingers flex
out for it.
 
Conan twitches his lips upwards – bitterness seeping through the permanent
cracks in his façade, and exhales, the bubbles rising upwards and away from
him.
He’s still for a second. Two. Three.
The water swirls jeeringly around him, but he’s not swept anywhere. The last
little, fragile bubble disappears out of sight and around him, the blue
umbrella begins circles him like a vulture.
 
(Please, forgive this weak love of mine.)
 
He breathes in.
 
And never out again.
Chapter End Notes
     PUG A FUG I SWEAR NEXT CHAPTER'S A SMUT I'M SORRY
     I OWE YOU GUYS THE PAIRING AT LEAST
     KID/Conan & Kaito/Shinichi (YES THAT'S RIGHT SPLIT PERSONALITY-VERSE)
End Notes
     I'm also taking drabble prompts for this collection, so feel free to
     drop even just a pairing down in the comments box :)
     26/11/15: I've started transferring some of my drabbles which I
     personally like better to FF.net. You can find me there with the same
     username just let me just say for the record that the formatting
     there is some of the most MESSED UP SHIT YOU'VE EVER SEEN if you're
     transferring stories.
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