Non-Challenge - Murderer 2: Mark of a Distorted Mirror
For: 30_deathfics
Title: Mark of a Distorted Mirror
Author: jeva_chan
Theme: #33 - Mother
Characters: Kuroba Kaito, Kudo Shinichi/Edogawa Conan, Hattori Heiji, Haibara Ai, Mouri Ran
Size: 9,307 words
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: I feel like being redundant so: Character Death
Disclaimer: All things Detective Conan/Magic Kaitou belong to one, Aoyama Gosho. I don't claim to have created any of these characters...just the tormenting situations I put them in. :D
Summary: If you live around here,
Lotsa people, I fear,
Will make promises
They will not honour, my dear,
An' the truth is,
You end up getting scarred!
-"Façade [Reprise 3]" from the Jekyll and Hyde soundtrack
Murderer 1: Two For the Show
Notes: I am way too tired to make any proper notes here. Um. Yeah. *crawls off somewhere*
"I can't believe he actually came all th' way here. Why'd he come t'your place?"
"I have no idea. He drives me insane when he's not running around with those kinds of injuries. How the hell should I know what this is all about?"
"Eh...ya have a point. Still, I dun see why ya haven't called Nakamori-keibu--"
"Idiot. It's obvious, isn't it? I may not know what this is all about, but if Kaitou Kid came here, then it means that Kudo Shinichi somehow involved. He wouldn't have come here otherwise."
"And because Kudo Shinichi is involved, ya can't have the police take 'im away."
"Exactly. I wouldn't have even called you if I could have avoided it, but like this, I can't do anything."
"Oi...ya should call me even if ya dun need help movin' dead weight around and helpin' patch up a world-wanted thief--"
"Idiot. If I did, your life would be in ten times the amount of danger it already is--"
"Ahou, I can take care've myself, and besides, Kazuha already thinks I'm a danger to myself, chasin' after thieves and murderers--"
"Ah! I think he's waking up."
The first thing he felt was pain. Choking, suffocating pain that made him fist his hands in the--bedsheets?--and shudder violently as he panted for breath. He screwed his eyes even more tightly shut, trying to keep out the light that was pounding into his skull, trying to block all the horrible sensations that assaulted him, trying to remember what had happened and figure out where he was and who those two voices were--
"Oi. Kid--" the first voice said just as a hand was placed on his shoulder.
He reacted without thought, blindly flinging out an arm to dislodge the hand as he bolted up-right. A surprised yelp of pain followed by a shout of, "He's still in fight or flight mode--Hattori!" The last part was a warning as he then kicked off the blankets and sheets--what was he doing in a bed and not
surrounded by blood foul stench in his nose covering him his gloved hands finding no grip she was going to kill him just like he'd killed him--
He had been ready to spring from the bed, eyes still tightly shut, but the sudden assault of those memories, of those feelings, of those images...it made him lose control and he found himself falling without direction, not able to catch himself. He readied himself for impact only to feel himself be grabbed from behind and then pulled back onto the bed, pressed against a warm body that struggled to keep from overbalancing and falling off the other side.
"Gotcha," the voice said, Kansai accent making itself more well known to his panic and pain-filled mind. He had been ready to put up another fight to get away but found himself out of energy and unable to carry out his normal escape methods. So he resigned himself to whatever fate he had as he sat there, sweating, panting, and shaking all over. From panic, from pain, from exhaustion...but most of all, from fear. Fear that left him breathless and wanting to scream at the same time.
He was alive, but it had been so close...
Almost as though he understood what was going through the thief's mind, the lower voice of the two muttered in a clumsy attempt to be soothing, "Hey, hey...it's okay. Kudo and I aren't gonna do anythin' t'ya. And if ya keep tryin' ta put up a fight like that, you're gonna ruin those patch-up jobs we worked so hard on."
Again, a hand was placed on his shoulder, and he flinched.
Immediately the hand was taken away. "Okay...so no touchin'."
A soft snort came from the end of the bed. "One would think you would have learned that lesson the first time around, Hattori."
"Well, how was I supposed ta know he was gonna react that way?" the voice--Hattori, he told himself, collecting his thoughts and sorting out the entire situation in his mind, pushing out those sickening and horrifying images--Hattori Heiji demanded, seeming upset that he was being mocked.
The other voice--the voice of none other than Edogawa Conan aka Kudo Shinichi--gave a sigh before he explained, "Hattori, this is a person who runs from people for a career. Of course he's not going to like being touched. Not to mention his injuries and the events that may have occurred--"
A noise must have escaped him because the bickering stopped. Hattori shifted behind him, as though he wasn't entirely sure what he should be doing, while Kudo quietly spoke up to ask, "What happened that night, Kaitou Kid?"
Kaitou Kid, who was actually no more than Kuroba Kaito, a teenager the same age as these two detectives (minus the fact that Kudo wasn't exactly in his proper form), gritted his teeth as his hand flew to his head. It was, as Hattori had said, wrapped nice and neatly, hiding the ugly bullet wound he could feel throbbing in pain every time he breathed. Kaito didn't want to remember that night, didn't want to explain what had happened, why it had happened, why he had chosen to run to Kudo's for safety. He didn't want to deal with it, just wanted to run as he was always able to, run and survive like he had that night--by the skin of his teeth.
While he struggled to keep those memories from revisiting, he caught the end of Hattori's doubtful, "--wait till he's healed?"
Kaito listened as Kudo replied with that stern voice that he'd mimicked several times before, "Waiting will just give him a chance to bury it. Half the time a person goes through a traumatic event, if they are not questioned immediately after, they will forget details. They'll just know and remember that something horrible happened but keep themselves from actually remembering anything. You should know that better than anyone, Detective of the West."
There was a period of silence, and Kaito could practically feel the chagrin coming off the Kansai detective in waves. But...Kudo had a point, didn't he? He'd been half-delirious at the time, maybe, but he had definitely come to Kudo for a reason.
Kaito felt himself start to shake again as he resigned himself to answering the questions the small detective would ask of him. "Aa...you're right, t-tantei-kun..." he managed to whisper, feeling sweat trickle down his face as he felt Hattori's hands on his arms, as if trying to stop the constant shivers that shook the thief's body.
Again, there was a moment of silence before he heard the not-child exhale. It was obvious that he was preparing for a long ordeal. "What happened?" he was finally asked.
A simple question.
An impossible answer to give.
He sat there, trembling uncontrollably, drenched in a cold sweat, struggling to summon the words but unable to for fear that he would relive it all. That was the point, however, in order for the detectives to understand what had happened, what the events meant--or at least the last part of it all. Kudo and Hattori didn't need to know...they didn't need to hear him confess...
Unbidden, the words came in a mumble, "Kill or be killed. Run away to survive another day..."
He could sense the underlying confusion that the detectives were feeling but knew that they were thinking hard about the implications.
"Kill or be killed..." he heard Hattori mutter to himself only to feel those hands jerk away from his arms. "Dun tell me--"
Kudo interrupting, continuing the interrogation by asking instead, "Whose blood were you covered in?"
A shaky breath escape him before he forced himself to answer, "Mine...and two others'."
"Did you kill them both?"
The question was so blunt and so direct that Kaito's eyes shot open, and he found himself numbly staring at the small detective, not knowing what to say or how to answer. There was some accusation in the shrunken teenager's eyes, but it was watered down with things such as pity and intense thought. Kudo knew at that it was one of two answers--Kaitou Kid himself had eliminated the third option himself.
After a long moment, Kaito looked away, bringing his other hand to his head, bowing his head to stare at the neutral color of the sheets of the bed he sat on. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to recall ever having committed such and act--a betrayal, hadn't it been? But hadn't he been tricked into defending himself in such a way? No...he could have run--or at the very least, used the non-lethal cardgun to knock the gun from--
Kudo wasn't going to be patient with this answer, demanding, "Kaitou Kid, did you kill--did you murder those two other people whose blood was on your clothes that night?"
Kaito closed his eyes, choking as he tried to answer, tried to keep silent. "No..." he found himself saying after another long moment of silence. "One killed the other...then pulled his gun on me...so I--I thought he was really going to--"
"What weapons were used?" Kudo broke in, cutting him off.
This answer came quickly as he felt the pace of the questioning pick up speed, feeling sickened that he couldn't stop himself from answering or remembering, "Guns."
"You have a gun?"
"No." He shook his head, lowering his right hand, staring at it and remembering it being covered with a stained white glove. "I took the gun from the first person...used it to keep him subdued, to keep him from lashing out, but it was a bluff. Was going to knock him out and have the cops get him. Jii--"
"Who's Jii?"
His throat closed, and he couldn't answer, shaking his head, not able to look at the detective.
Kudo quickly backtracked. "So this Jii killed the first guy."
He nodded slowly, beginning to feel a bit dizzy. Maybe it was from the blood loss, from the over-exertion from trying to escape and answering the questions. Right then, Kaito was actually really thankful that Hattori was keeping him sitting up. Otherwise, he would have been unconscious by then, leaving them with only have the story...but maybe with enough answers to know what they should do.
"And you killed this Jii in self-defense."
Kaito didn't answer because at that point, he really didn't know.
Kudo just pressed on, "You mentioned 'run and survive another day.' Does this mean you ran from someone after that?"
That question alone made the feeling of nausea, of dizziness even worse than it had been, making him remember with dread and horror the feeling of being trapped--pinned to the ground and so close to death that there didn't seem to be an escape. But he had escaped. He had to remember that. That he had made it out alive and away from that woman--that woman who had--
You always were a brat, weren't you?
His hands were shaking violently now, and he could hear Hattori muttering something behind him. The words didn't seem to make it past the memory of that high-pitch whine that had been in his ear, of the sound of that woman's voice, mocking him as he struggled to get away--
I hardly see the value in you now that Konosuke-san's dead.
He felt like he was going to be sick, and both detectives apparently realized this because he suddenly felt a glass of water being shoved into his hands--but he managed to shake his head. He dimly heard Hattori tell him not to be so stubborn. After all, what was the point in thinking that he shouldn't unwittingly give them a DNA sample when they already had his face?
He still didn't drink but clutched at the glass as if it were a life-line, struggling to turn his focus away from that night and back to the present where Kudo was watching him closely, noting every detail and every action that the thief made.
Kaito tried to give a grin typical of the legendary Kaitou Kid, but as soon as he had it on, it broke. With everything that he was feeling right then, he didn't feel like smiling--not even to hide it all.
If anything, he felt like crying.
He let out a ragged breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding, staring down at the glass of water, willing himself to calm down again, to keep from allowing the memory to overwhelm him. It was during this short, although it felt so much longer to him at the time, period of silence that he realized that the nausea, dizziness, shaking, and constant sweating was more than just shaken nerves. His vision was going double on him, blurring around the edges.
And he still hadn't answered the question.
So, knowing there wasn't much time, he struggled to put the words together but found himself choking on them whenever he tried to speak.
While Kaito tried again and again to answer the question that would explain why he'd run to Kudo's house, he suddenly felt a hand against his forehead--surprisingly cool and soothing despite the fact that he'd flinched away from previous touches.
A curse escaped Hattori. "He's burnin' up," the Kansai detective stated harshly, leaving Kaito dazedly wondering if this was more serious than he was thinking. "Kudo, we gotta let him rest. The stress--oi, Kudo, are ya listenin' ta me?"
Kaito lifted his eyes from the glass of water to see that Kudo was not in fact paying any mind to the other detective and was, instead, paying very close attention to the feverish thief before him. It was probably a combination of that sharp expression on the shrunken detective's face and the on-coming fever that made it finally seem possible to grin--an obviously fake, self-loathing grin that helped him find the words he needed to answer the question.
"She...tried to kill me. That woman...from your organization..."
He was only able to see Kudo's expression transform from intense concentration to outright horror and grim understanding before he felt the glass slip from his hands, which were shaking much too hard to keep a grip any longer--before he found himself falling forward only to be caught from behind again just as everything went dark.
"O-oi!" Hattori shouted after he'd caught the unconscious thief by the waist. "Passin' out like that--"
"It's no good," Shinichi said quietly, still staring at the young man who was Kaitou Kid, not really knowing what to feel about all of this. "He was barely hanging on throughout most of the questioning, though I have no idea when he realized that himself."
The dark-skinned teenager carefully pulled Kid's limp form up so that he was laying against his chest. Kid's face was unnaturelly flushed while the rest of him seemed so pale, and he was panting for breath in a way seemed too short and too shallow. For Shinichi, it was no surprise that this boy who played the role as a world-reknowned phantom thief had come to be in this sort of condition. Even without knowing all of the details, just knowing the basic events of that night was enough.
Kaitou Kid had witnessed someone killed, had killed someone himself, and then had been the target himself. Had been targetted by a woman who by all accounts should have been able to kill the thief--no matter how fast he was at running or dodging.
Just what was Vermouth playing at?
"Kudo." Shinichi looked to Hattori, who was inspecting the thief's bandages to see if the earlier fight to escape had damaged anything. Besides the head wound which seemed to not want to stop seeping even a bit of blood, everything else appeared fine. "I dunno much 'bout fevers or anythin', but his seems pretty high. We should take 'im ta the hospital but bein' who he is, we can't just hand 'im over--especially since--"
The Kansai detective stopped himself, seeming to refocus his attention on the ailing thief.
Shinichi understood the real reason why he'd stopped. "Aa," he replied gravely, "Especially since he's a target of the Black Organization now. Though why he would come here when this could actually be the most dangerous place to go--"
"It isn't."
Both detectives whipped their heads to look at the doorway where a small girl stood, looking in with an air of bored curiosity and knowing.
Shinichi resisted the urge to put a hand to his heart to calm himself. She'd surprised him. "H-Haibara--" he managed to get out, cutting himself off as she walked into the room and up to the bed, peering up at Kaitou Kid in a studious manner that made Shinichi quickly realize that they had another option. "Haibara, do you think you could help us with him? We can't--"
"I heard," she stated primly, stopping him short. She then looked to him with a grim expression. "But do you really think it's safe to take him in? If he thought that Vermouth was trying to kill him, he was sadly mistaken. Veremouth does not miss. She let him escape."
"Even though she managed ta hit 'im more'n once?" Hattori asked with some confusion.
Haibara only glanced his way for a moment. "Yes, especially then." Again, she gave Shinichi a side-ways glance with a bit of a smirk. "Don't tell me that the meitantei hasn't thought of the possibility."
"I've thought about it," he said grudgingly, looking over to study the unconscious Kaitou Kid again, "but that doesn't explain why he thought it was safe to come here. He knew who Vermouth was. He knew that she probably knows who I am, and yet he still came here. There's just no logical reason why he would come or even why Vermouth would want him to, if this is all her doing--"
"We can think more 'bout that as soon as we make sure that this guy won't die on us," Hattori interrupted stubbornly, making the two not-children look over to him in surprise. The Kansai detective picked up the spilt glass of water and put it on the nearby nightstand before continuing, "If we're gonna get any answers, it probably won't be till Kid wakes up and answers 'em, and in order for him ta do that, we gotta bring down his fever--"
"Simple remedies won't work."
Again, both detectives looked to the scientist. "What do you mean, Haibara?" Shinichi asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
The girl looked up at him for a moment before looking to the fevered young man. "He's been poisoned."
"Poisoned?" both detectives demanded in surprised and horror.
They hadn't even thought to assume that that would be the case, Shinichi realized as he looked to Kid again with growing dread and anxiety. There had only been bullet wounds--
His eyes widened, and he shouted, "Hattori, his back!"
The other detective went pale. "But that--"
"His back--?" Haibara asked with some confusion only to be cut off by Shinichi explaining, "There was a deep bruise on his back--about the size of a woman's heel. Now that I know who had been there, it's so obvious! Vermouth had Kid pinned down, most likely--judging from the location of the bruise and the fact that it was mostly his front that had been covered in blood--"
"Blood?" Again, the young scientist was confused, apparently having missed this part of the whole story.
Shinichi ignored her, quickly running through the scenerios in his head. "If she was just using the pressure of the heel on that location on his back, the pain had to have been enough to distract him if she was doing something else--poisoning him. But how would she do it?" He put a fist to his mouth, a thumb under his chin as his mind raced with possibilities. "We didn't find any other marks on him. Bullet wounds and that bruise on his back. The bullets couldn't have been coated with something because most likely the heat created by the friction in firing the gun could nullify the effects--"
Hattori spoke up then to add, "And there's no way for the bruise itself ta be the point where the poison was introduced ta his system 'cause there's no break in the skin, plus it'd just be on his clothes rather than his skin. With it on his back, there's no way he'd reach it himself and accidentally ingest it or somethin' like with cyanide--"
"Blood," Haibara said calmly, interrupting the flood of words.
For the third time, the two detectives paused, looking to each other before realizing-- "He was covered in it," Shinichi said, suddenly seeming shakened by the thought.
Hattori was looking at the thief in shock. "With those open wounds, if she was ta just even lightly lace it with somethin'..."
"The problem now is knowing which poison," Shinichi said, running a hand nervously through his hair as he realized how much time they were losing by figuring this all out. He looked over to his fellow not-child. "Haibara, you've got to help us. He can't die."
"Why not?"
Shinichi stared at her, stunned. "What?"
"Why can't he die, Kudo?" the girl asked him with a severe tone. "This is a man who is a danger to your cover and the livelihood of all that you hold dear. By keeping him alive, you're just making yourself a more physical target than ever before. It's one thing to get involved with murder cases and hide behind the Sleeping Kogoro--it's something else completely to take in someone targeted by them--"
"We took you in, didn't we?" Shinichi demanded sharply.
The former operative of the Black Organization stared at him blankly. "And I have a use. I am working toward making a cure, am I not?" She gestured to Kid. "What use is he? A thief. Someone who goes against all of your principles and who will probably offer nothing in return for your having saved him--"
"We can't know that until we do save him!" the detective shouted back, fisting his hands to keep from doing anything rash. "He came here for a reason! I don't know what it is yet but if we can keep him alive, he can tell us when he's able! He--"
"Is a liability," Haibara stated bluntly.
Shinichi stared at her, going silent as he studied the young woman who was in the same situation as him. In a way, she was right. It would be better if there was no more Kaitou Kid--no more thief that had been put into a situation he wouldn't be able to get out of. A situation that had been as much beyond his control as that night at Tropical Land had been beyond Shinichi's. Sure, he could understand the reasoning behind just allowing Kid to suffer through the effects of the poison before ultimately expiring from whatever nasty--or if the thief was lucky, mild--afflictions, but...
"I can't," he said aloud, looking Haibara in the eye, letting her know how much he had thought about the situation. Of course, it hadn't even been a few hours since he'd found Kid collapsed in his livingroom, but he'd considered all the possibilities of keeping Kid alive and safe. Had considered other possibilities--ones that Haibara had been quick to pick up on. "I know he's going to be nothing but trouble for us, but he's just like us, Haibara."
Now those were words that Shinichi never thought he would say, and he glanced oiver to Hattori to see how he took them as well. The Kansai Detective looked back at him with a considering expression, frustration and worry for Kid's livelyhood evident. Shinichi knew exactly why Hattori was worrying. There was a very good possibility that if they didn't act fast enough and it would be too late and anything Kid could have told them would be lost.
The one-time-teenaged detective looked back to the shrunken scientist to see her reaction to his words. He was almost startled to see that she was calmly staring back at him. A bit confused, he readied himself to begin the argument anew, ready to state that for all they knew Kid would only have mere minutes, but what interrupted before he could even start.
"There's no cure for it."
Both detectives' eyes widened in horror, dread and some inner alarm sounding throughout their systems as they quickly looked to the fevered thief, only to hear Haibara say with a bit too smug of a tone in her voice, "But it's mostly harmless. Flu-like symptoms if anything. A bad flu with fevers reaching up to maybe 39.5°C, dehydration induced in multiple ways, and of course, sore throat, dry mouth, stuffed nose--"
"WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE?" the two detectives exclaimed loudly.
The scientist remained unfazed, still seeming amused. "I wanted to be sure that you understood your own motives," she said with a bit of a smirk before her faced closed again and her voice dropped into a more serious timbre, "You know our risk if we take in this thief, Kudo. And you know that that could be exactly what they are wanting us to do."
Shinichi continued to glare at her for a moment before looking over again to the unconscious Kid. "I know," he said stiffly. "That's part of the reason I can't just let him go. If they're up to something, Kid holds the only clue I've got to work at sovling the puzzle and figuring out if they're coming after us and where and when."
Haibara didn't comment on his flawed logic, and instead, went to the nighttable to get the glass that had been spilled earlier. "I'll get him some water," she said shortly, turning to go.
"Oi," Hattori called out before she could fully leave the room, "Just one thing. How th' hell can a virus be contracted from a poison? Dun viruses have a short life-span if they dun have a livin' body ta live in?"
Shinichi looked curiously to her as well, wanting to know the answer to the question as well.
A dark, self-loathing smirk came onto Haibara's face that was quickly hidden behind the door jam. "You shouldn't ask such questions, Hattori-tantei," she said coolly and in a manner that sent a cold shiver up Shinichi's spine as she continued down the hall. "Those are questions that get detectives like you killed."
The relief that came with Haibara's reveal of the "poison"'s true nature was quickly deterred by the knowledge that it would still be a long while yet before the thief was healthy enough to even begin to give them any real help. With his temperature running somewhere around the 38°C and 39°C area, Kid was hardly able keep conscious. Let alone try to coherently tell them every minute detail of the murders and Kid's alledged escape--alledged because Shinichi still very much doubted that someone like Vermouth had simply let him go...
Except there was still something nagging at him, telling him he was missing something.
He was sitting on the edge of what had once been his bed and was now the temporary hospital bed for the ailing Kid, biting at his thumb nail and narrowing his eyes in thought as he kicked his decidedly short legs against the bed, when the first sounds other than harsh pants escaped Kid. At first, Shinichi hadn't even realized it was Kid making the sounds, until the thief began to move, either trying to escape from the bed--again--or trying to escape mad women with pistols, he wasn't sure, but it was eerie enough to make Shinichi realize that this was not going to be easy at all.
Shinichi had had his fair share of night terrors--of men dressed in black coming after him, torturing him for any and all information he may have revealed to others about their innerworkings before finally putting him out of his misery. More than once, he'd woken up, sweat pouring into his wide eyes, panting for breath, hands clenching at the blankets, shaking all over. Almost always silent, though. Because he couldn't afford Ran or--heaven forbid--Kogoro finding out that there was something wrong with him.
So when Shinichi realized what exactly was going on, he turned toward the thief and, careful not to touch the larger teenager, whispered in what he hoped was soothing tones, "Easy. It's just a nightmare. Just a nightmare."
It didn't seem to help at all, and instead, the thief became even more agitated. Shinichi sat back and blew a frustrated sigh. Of course he'd react that way. Why on earth had he thought otherwise? This was not going to make things any easier, he decided beforee hopping down from the bed and exiting the room in order to intercept Hattori who had been acting more of the nurse-maid for the past few hours. Something that made Shinichi grumble to himself about picky thieves.
Hattori frowned at him as he reached the top of the stairs. "I'm guessin' you're not likin' this arrangement," he said lightly, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
Shinichi scowled at him, arms crossing over his chest, annoyance pouring out in waves from his small body. "Oh, yes. I always like taking care of sick phantom thieves when I'm the size of a 7 years and when he only seems to get worse whenever I try to help." A withering look was shot to the snerking detective. "Plus, you can't exactly stay here all week to wait out his flu. So without you around, I'm down one person who can help out."
"Whatta 'bout Agasa?" Hattori asked, quickly stepping forward to glance into the bedroom to be sure that Kid was at least not going to try for the window again or something.
The shrunken detective blew another irritated sigh. "He went to some sort of scientific convention. Something about inventors and former colleagues," he said shortly before pausing and reconsidering. "Or maybe it was a university reunion or something--"
"So basically, if I go, it's just you and Haibara."
"Hardly," Shinichi said dryly with a scowl. "She's basically washed her hands of the situation. She's pretty much locked herself in the lab and won't open the door for anything--not even cries of imminent death."
Hattori's lips twisted into a vaguely amused frown. "Y'actually did somethin' like that?"
Shinichi shifted a bit, uncrossing his arms and interlocking his fingers behind his head, elbows high in the air as he looked away from the other detective in a manner that he used mostly when the Detective Boys had caught him in a not-so-subtle lie. "Well, sorry, but I had to make sure she wasn't just avoiding the work. She only gets this into research when she's getting close to something. Usually, she at least chews me out for making up stories."
"Hm..." Hattori hummed, obviously imagining the scene in his head and trying not to laugh too hard so he could maintain a fairly straight face. Instead of commenting on Shinichi's behavior, he asked, "So we need a thief-sitter?"
"They don't have to know who he is," Shinichi said slowly, thinking it out carefully in his methodic mind. "In fact, we really don't know who he is. We know approximate age and what he looks like--"
"An awful lot like you," the Kansai detective said meaningfully as he glanced into the bedroom again.
Shinichi frowned. "Well, it explains why he never had to use a mask when dressing as me," he said with a frown before shaking his head, getting himself to focus on the real issue. "Anyway, we can easily just say that he just stumbled into my house. It's not like weird things like this hasn't happened before."
Hattori looked back to the smaller detective, appearing a bit unsure with the idea. "I dunno...considerin' how he got here, I dun think it would be that good've an idea ta drag in more people--"
"You think I like the thought of what could happen if anyone else gets involved?" Shinichi asked with some exasperation, lowering his arms and crossing them as he looked to the ground, brow furrowed in thought. "I have no idea if anyone from that organization--especially that woman--may have an idea as to where Kid would run to, but the fact of the matter is that there's just no way I can take care of him myself."
Worrying his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, he then brought a fist to his mouth before quietly saying, "As for who we get to help, as I said before, we don't have to tell them anything about him. Could just say he is, as of now, an unidentified victim of an attempted murder, which is almost exactly the case here--"
"And it's gotta be someone who regularly comes here," Hattori put in, only getting thoughtful silence as a response. It was during this silence that the idea came to the dark-skinned detective who then snapped his fingers and said with a victorious grin. "That's it! That's the answer!"
"What is?" the shrunken detective asked, raising his eyebrows as he thought of the possible answers that his friendly rival could possibly come up with.
Raising an index finger on one hand, Hattori leaned forward in order to lower himself a bit more to the not-kid's height. "It's simple!" he stated lightly before putting forth the question, "Who d'ya know that you would completely trust, who can handle themselves in a tight situation, and who comes ta your house every so often ta the point that it wouldn't be strange at all if they started comin' a bit more frequently for a time?"
Giving the Kansai detective an unamused look, Shinichi thought about it for a moment. There was no way it was one of the kids--they could hardly keep from getting kidnapped all those different times being as small and helpless as they were. Kogoro was out because he definitely never set foot in the Kudo house ever since Shinichi's parents had moved overseas. And besides Sonoko who...just wouldn't exactly be able to do much except maybe scream for a hospital, that only left...
He immediately glared up at the taller teenager. "No," he stated flatly.
Hattori gave a bit of an exasperated sigh as he straightened his stance. "You're bein' stubborn 'bout this," he chided.
Shinichi frowned heavily at that before pointedly stating, "This could be a very dangerous situation. There is no way I'm going to put her in that sort of danger--"
"Kudo," the other detective broke in, voice level and calm, effectively cutting off whatever else Shinichi had meant to say in argument, "you really dun have the option or the time ta be thinkin' 'bout those sorta things. Now, I dun want Neesan ta be in danger just as much as you do--"
"I doubt that," glowered the not-kid sourly.
Hattori continued, undeterred, "But. If anythin' was ta go wrong, not only does she have the advantage've bein' the daughter've a detective and a karate champion, but you can always hang around and keep an eye on things ta make sure nothin' gets outta hand." Without waiting for a comment from the other boy, the Osakajin put his hands on his hips and stared down at his comrade with a smug expression. "Well? Gotta argument against that?"
Shinichi continued to frown which only became more and more of a frustrated expression as he tried, and failed, to come up with a valid counterpoint.
He eventually surrendered to the other detective's will.
Giving a quick grin of victory, Hattori then reached out to pat an irate Conan on the head, musing his dark hair as he commented, "See, this is why ya should never question my greatness. It's obvious that I'm at least ten years ahead've ya in the thinkin' department."
Shinichi didn't even bother swatting the hand away and merely retorted, "Har har har. Whatever." The hand lifted after this not-quite admission, and he blew a sigh as he put a hand into his pocket and withdrew his cellphone meant for Shinichi. "Well, I guess I'll have to call her and let her know about all of this. Don't know how exactly I'm going to pull this off since one would think that I would be here in person to help with all of this."
Hattori waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "You'll be out investigatin'. Investigatin'," he said lightly, turning to look into the bed room again. "And I'll try ta get back here as quick as I can ta help. Seems like things will get worse from here on."
"Aa," replied Shinichi with a bit of a smirk. "But no matter what the Black Organization might be up to, I'll catch onto their game. Whether or not Vermouth was the one who directed Kid here, there's something more to all of this and I'll eventually have all the pieces of the puzzle."
He flipped his phone open and quickly ran through his call list with one had while the other picked up his bow tie and changed it to the proper setting. Just as he hit the call button and lifted it to his ear, the young detective brought the tie close to his mouth so that when he next spoke as the phone rang, it was the voice of the grown Kudo Shinichi which stated, "It's only a matter of time and as you said, that's something we're rapidly running out of."
It had at first seemed such an odd thing to ask of her, but she went along with it. First of all, there was a very sick boy lying upstairs in Shinichi's bed. A sick boy who'd witnessed a murder and was probably in danger because of it. The poor boy, Ran would continuously think to herself whenever she checked in on him.
Second of all, it was Shinichi who had asked her, had explained to her the situation, and had insisted continuously that under no circumstance was she to call the police. "It's like the Witness Protection and Relocation Program," he'd said urgently over the phone. "By calling attention to him, his location, or his situation, you could be endangering him and yourself."
She'd tried to reason with him, but he remained firm. He'd apologized, however, for making her go through all of the trouble of caring for the victim. "I would have gotten Hattori to stay up here to do it, but there's no telling how long this will take and he's got school in Osaka. So until he can get clearance to leave school temporarily, there's not much he can do," he'd said, voice sounding weary and strained. "And I would be there, too, but I have to act on what information he gave me before he passed out--before it's too late and these people are too far gone out of reach.
"I'm sorry for the sudden trouble, but you're the only one I can trust with this, Ran..."
In a way, it was a thrill. Hearing those words was enough for her, even if she still gave him a hard time about it. It was Shinichi, after all. One of the best--if not the best, even if she'd directly never tell him so--detectives was trusting her with such a case.
It wasn't until she'd actually seen the boy that she realized exactly why Shinichi had seemed so harried. Wrapped in bandages, covered in sweat, trembling in pain and fevered chills, the teenaged boy tucked into Shinichi's bed appeared so frail and in need of serious care. It was more extreme than she would have believed, and Ran had been more than a bit worried that she wouldn't be able to handle the suddenly large responsibility.
Shinichi helped soothe her worries, however, by calling every hour or so, checking on things from afar, instructing her on how to handle the changing of bandages and how to be careful when dealing with the particularly nasty head wound the young man sported--a bullet shot at close range, Shinichi had informed her grimly.
Still, even with the boy--who Shinichi confessed to not knowing the name of, having not been able to get that far before the other boy passed out--unconscious for the most part, it was a tiring experience. Ran had taken care of victims of such acts before, but they'd always been handed off almost immediately to someone of better skill such as a doctor or a nurse. With this boy, nothing seemed to help.
Shifting him to change his bandages seemed to hurt him more than help even though Shinichi calmly told her that the only way to get better in these situations is to let pain run its course. ("If he's not feeling any pain, then something's wrong.") His temperature seemed permenantly stuck on 39.5°C. She was able to get him to drink water to keep him hydrated--something she would have remembered herself even without Shinichi harping about it in her ear--but it was never enough to help, especially once when he'd partially woken up long enough to heave whatever was still in stomach.
By the end of the morning of the first day taking care of the unknown boy, Ran was thoroughly exhausted and took the time to make her way down to the living room and sit herself down on the comfortable couch. She settled into the folds of the couch, laying her head against the back of it as she permitted herself a moment of rest, knowing that it would do no one any good if she was constantly fretting over the poor boy upstairs. If she exhausted herself too much, then there wouldn't be anyone left to take care of him. Shinichi was off investigating, Heiji-kun was in Osaka trying to get permission to leave school so that he could help...
Sighing before she let her thoughts dwell on those kinds of things and thinking glumly to herself about how much work she would have to make up in school this time, Ran lifted her head and sat up so that she could lean forward to grab the television remote.
Her hand had just begun to hover over the controller when her cellphone, which she'd placed on the coffee table next to the remote, began to vibrate, humming for a brief moment before a familiar ringtone filled the air. Another sigh escaping her, she picked up her cellphone in her left hand while reaching out and grabbing the remote in her right.
Flipping the cellphone open, she turned the television on as she spoke into the mouthpiece, "Patient is resting and so is the caretaker."
There was a heartbeat of silence before a small laugh reached her ear. "Well, that's good to hear," Shinichi's voice said lightly, despite the heavy exhaustion that weighed down his tone. Ran could feel her heart race and clench at the same time in the manner it always did whenever she could finally hear his voice again. "I take it that his fever hasn't broken yet either."
A statement, Ran noted, not a question.
She sighed. "No, and I've tried everything. The most I can do is just pile on the blankets and let his body flush it out," she said, feeling that sadness and pity for the boy upstairs twist her guilt guiltily as she knew that she was essentially incapable of truly helping him.
Shinichi didn't quite sigh, but Ran knew that he was only holding back because he knew just how useless she was feeling, saying instead, "Well, we'll just have to wait it out is all. Once the fever's broken then he'll be able to recover quicker and I may be able to get more of a lead on where the murderer may have gone--"
"Oh," Ran said in startlement as her eyes caught onto something showing on the television. "How sad..."
A pause came from the other line. "Sad? What's going on?"
Shaking her head slightly in order to return her focus briefly to Shinichi's voice even as she began to raise the volume on the television, she answered, "Nothing over here. It's on the news--which doesn't surprise me that the news is the first channel the tv's set on." At Shinichi's silence, she knew to progress with the details. "There was a suicide in Edoka, a widow of a famous magician named Kuroba Toichi. They're saying that it happened anywhere between fourteen to sixteen hours before the body was found by a close friend. That happened five hours ago."
"Hm..." was all the detective would say, as though he was waiting for some other bit of information, knowing that a puzzled was there and was ready to solve it but he was missing a piece.
Ran couldn't help but to give the phone at her ear a bit of an annoyed look. "What are you going all 'hm...' for?"
There was another small pause before Shinichi replied, sounding uncertain, as if he was trying to make himself believe it, "It might be nothing but--"
Whatever sort of reasoning her childhood friend was verbally walking through was lost to her as she listened intently to the report being given by the newscaster.
"Ran? You still there? Oi. Ran? Ran."
Snapping back to the phone conversation, she quickly murmured, "Sorry, they mentioned something about the woman's son. Said he's missing at the moment and, even though his mother called his school to say that he was unable to attend school, no one's seen him since the night of the last Kaitou Kid heist."
Silence came from the other end of the line, and Ran automatically knew that Shinichi had found the last piece of the puzzle. Brow furrowing in uncertainty as she looked away from the news broadcast, she asked with some concern, "Shinichi?"
There was an edge of urgency in Shinichi's voice. "Ran, what was Kuroba-san's son's name?"
She floundered for a moment, turning her head to the side as though she could see Shinichi beside her when he was some distance away. "Shinichi, what--?" she tried to ask but was interrupted by the detective loudly saying, "His name, Ran! It's important!"
Not knowing what was wrong, she hesitantly began, "Kuroba Kai--" A noise from her left made her jerk in that direction, standing from the couch and staring in horror at the sight of the injured boy leaning heavily against the doorway. It was only then that her mind made the connection. "Kaito!" she exclaimed before quickly rushing over to him.
The boy, none other than the missing Kuroba Kaito, didn't seem to acknowledge her, putting a hand above himself and struggling to get back to his feet, panting and sweating heavily. The fever still had a hold over him, evident by his flushed face and shaking body. Ran stared at him, not knowing what to do and clutching to the cellphone where Shinichi was now shouting to get her attention.
When she winced from a particularly loud shout from the other line, Kuroba's eyes looked up to meet her. It was then that she saw all of his pain--physical and emotional alike--and realized that he'd been there for sometime and had heard the news. Her own eyes started to water with tears of sympathy and worry.
His eyes hardened in response, jaw clenching tightly before he then asked quietly, voice rough from disuse and strain, "Is that Kudo?"
Frozen, not knowing how to answer, Ran just stared at him.
Kuroba held out his free hand and silently bade her to give her the phone. When she still didn't move, he then said tightly, "Mouri-san, give me the phone."
Surprisingly, it was only then that Ran realized that Shinichi had gone quiet, probably knowing what was happening, probably able to hear the boy's quiet voice through the phone. Silently, she pulled the phone from her ear and placed it in his waiting hand.
She was somehow sure if it were any other time, she would have gotten a quick smile of appreciation and apology from the injured boy. As it was, he merely took the phone and put it to his own ear, turning his body so that his back was against the doorjam and allowing himself to sink to the floor. "Kudo..." he said, voice very hoarse, almost as if he were going to cry, though Ran saw no sign of tears in his eyes.
Not knowing what else to do but knowing that she wasn't needed or wanted there, Ran left the room and went to search for the Kudos' First Aid kit. She could only imagine what kind of damage Kuroba Kaito had done to his wounds by walking all the way downstairs and to the sitting room...
Kaito only barely noticed Mouri Ran's departure and repeated when nothing but silence met his voice, "Kudo."
A sigh came from the other side of the line, voice still sounding like the grown Kudo Shinichi through the use of that bowtie of his. "Kid," the detective said in a controlled manner.
Kaito leaned his head back against the doorjam, feeling his whole body protest against the movement. The again, it protested against him just sitting there, so there wasn't any point in listening to it now. "You might as well call me by my name," he said, feeling his voice weaken and begin to crack as he finished, "since you've already heard it."
A long moment of silence came then and would have continued if Kaito hadn't continued as he closed his eyes, "It's not like you wouldn't have found out anyway since you and Hattori saw my face. All you would need to do was run a quick search on high school students and you'd find out--"
"Kuroba..." Kudo's voice came slowly, almost hesitant.
Kaito bit back a noise in his throat, knowing what the detective was trying not to say. "We were safe," he whispered, mostly to himself. "We were safe and I blew it. I gave it away. I killed Jii, they probably thought I killed their man, too. Jii was probably the only one that kept them off our tails, but I blew it. I--"
"Kuroba, get a hold of yourself," Kudo said, voice still quiet but a stern tone entering now. "You can't blame yourself for all of this. You weren't the one who pulled the trigger--"
"Ha!" Kaito laughed to himself, feeling a smile spread on his lips even as he continued to pant for breath that seemed but too short and shallow. "I might not have pulled that trigger, but I did pull a trigger, and by doing that, I condemned her--"
"You know that's not why it happened--" the detective argued.
"Oh, what do you know?" the thief demanded loudly, leaning violently forward, ignoring the shocks of pain running throughout his body. The other line was silent as Kaito continued, "What do you know about me, Kudo Shinichi, meitantei? You know about my night job--great for you. You know my name--wonderful. You know that my father was killed eight years ago--congratulations! You've figured out who the first one was! You know that my mother was killed--killed when I could have stopped them from getting to her--!"
"You're getting hysterical," Kudo broke in loudly over his voice. "You're still running a fairly dangerous fever and you're not thinking straight. You're still processing everything--from the whole thing with that Jii to your mother--"
"Stop acting like you're some kind of friend!" Kaito shouted, lashing out as much as he could when his rival--enemy was out of range. "Fact is that you wouldn't have even noticed or cared about this all happening if I hadn't shown up in your house--!"
"Why did you go to my house?" the detective broke in suddenly.
The thief gritted his teeth, struggling to remain calm, struggling to work past the fever and the turbulent emotions rolling within him. Poker Face...he had to remember Poker Face... "I bet that's also something you didn't really notice," he said coldly, opening his eyes to glare at the wooden wall in from of him. "Ever notice, meitantei, that that woman never did you harm? Even when you were within her grasp? Even when she knows where you're hiding?"
Obviously disturbed by the amount of knowledge this particular rival had on him, Kudo demanded, "How do you know all of this?"
"Does it matter?" Kaito asked, a bit of a cruel smirk coming onto his face. "I keep my ear to the ground. I poke around to see what's what about my friends--and especially my enemies. Especially enemies who have a tendency to see through my disguises 100% of the time.
"I came to your house, Kudo," he continued lightly, able to, for the moment, put Poker Face on and hide away all the pain, anger, fear, sadness...and focused on rocking the detective's boat so hard he'd fall in the water with him, "because it was the safest place I could get from that woman. She protects you from them, did you know? Why else hasn't she told them where you really are? Why else would she, multiple times, let you get away without a single scratch of her own making? Don't tell me you never thought of the possibility, meitantei."
An angered silence was his only answer for a moment before Kudo said shortly, "I knew--or at the very least, suspected something was up with that woman. But that doesn't explain why she would target you like this. It doesn't explain why you were put in that situation in the first place--"
"So you've conveniently got my face, my name, my history, and now you want to hear my motives?" Kaito asked incredulously. "You're a cheat at this, Kudo. Hakuba at least had the decency to ask without any sort of idea already in his head--sure a couple of theories, but what could a newly-arrived half-British detective know what to expect from a thief he didn't even know?"
"Kuroba--"
He bit out tightly, "You have all your evidence, tantei-kun. Do your job and deduct it for once."
Again, another silence reigned.
Finally, the detective spoked, "Kuroba...what is it that scares you most? That they've managed to catch you? Or that someone else paid your price?"
Kaito didn't answer and just stared at the wall in front of him, willing himself not to let Poker Face falter, though he was starting to feel it crumble within his hands, not matter how hard he tried to keep it together.
"Don't mistaken my intentions," Kudo continued, his voice hard and precise. "I have no doubt in my mind that we're far from being each other's best friends, but we're alike, whether we like it or not. Fact is, I know the situation you're in. Someday, I might even be in that very spot you're sitting in, thinking those same thoughts you're thinking. The only reason I've wanted to help you is because of that. I didn't even have to know your face or name to know that something was up, that there's more to your story than some thief in the moonlight."
Said thief had the feeling that he was having some of his own words being thrown back at him and hung his head, struggling to control his breathing as Poker Face cracked. "Sky and water..." he whispered quietly.
"That's right," the detective agreed, voice equally soft. "I know I can't say I know what you're going through--I've been fortunate enough to avoid that, but any day, any moment...I could be right there, and my mother could be your mother."
Kaito didn't say anything in response, feeling the anger he was holding onto to help maintain Poker Face falter and slowly bleed away with those words. He knew only too well that Kudo was telling the truth.
"Kuroba," the other boy continued a subtle urgency to his voice, "is there anyone else that they would target to get to you? I need to get word to the police, to get them in protection--"
"The Nakamoris," Kaito answered, breaking in as he felt a lump form in his throat. "They're practically family to me. My classmates and teacher at school. A lot of us aren't close, but...and the Taskforce...can never know who they will go after, but you'll want to make sure they and their families are safe..."
"All right," Kudo said slowly before taking in a deep breath. "I'll give Megure-keibu the call. I know Nakamori-keibu will be the most difficult with all of this, but he'll listen to reason when everything is explained." There was a pause then before the detective said solemnly, "I'll do my best to keep them safe, Kuroba."
The thief felt himself laugh as his eyes began to sting with tears. "Hopefully you can, Kudo," he said in as light as a voice as he could manage before Poker Face completely shattered and his vision blurred. "Because I couldn't."
-fin... but not quite-
Good god, this thing took ages. I blame school. And work. And laziness. And my dead muses who suddenly sprung back to life *gives Kaito a dirty look*
So yeah. Kaito's mother was the victim this time. And you got it! It wasn't a suicide and both Shinichi and Kaito know that to be the truth. And thus... uh. Yeah. I dunno. I'm typing this up at 6:20 in the morning when I have a class at 9:30 in the morning. Thankfully, it's the only class I have today and I don't have work so...
... well, at least I did something productive with my insomnia rather than bemoan whatever it is I'm overly thinking about.
Again, this was written when I was kind of, sort of way out of it. Eyes blurring and head pounding... that sort of condition. So if it sucks, don't come crying to me. This thing too months to finish and I actually went through and fixed as much as I could see while in this condition. So... meh. Please to be pointing out any and all glaringly major errors and I'll fix them up... whenever I'm not severely sleep deprived.
And yes, there is yet another fic to this Murderer fic. Actually, there should be TWO more. And hopefully that's all. Especially if each fic keeps getting longer. Oi vey.
Anyway, thanks for reading. Don't kill me for being an insomniac. And, oh, Kaito sends his love to all!
*falls over*
.
Title: Mark of a Distorted Mirror
Author: jeva_chan
Theme: #33 - Mother
Characters: Kuroba Kaito, Kudo Shinichi/Edogawa Conan, Hattori Heiji, Haibara Ai, Mouri Ran
Size: 9,307 words
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: I feel like being redundant so: Character Death
Disclaimer: All things Detective Conan/Magic Kaitou belong to one, Aoyama Gosho. I don't claim to have created any of these characters...just the tormenting situations I put them in. :D
Summary: If you live around here,
Lotsa people, I fear,
Will make promises
They will not honour, my dear,
An' the truth is,
You end up getting scarred!
-"Façade [Reprise 3]" from the Jekyll and Hyde soundtrack
Murderer 1: Two For the Show
Notes: I am way too tired to make any proper notes here. Um. Yeah. *crawls off somewhere*
"I can't believe he actually came all th' way here. Why'd he come t'your place?"
"I have no idea. He drives me insane when he's not running around with those kinds of injuries. How the hell should I know what this is all about?"
"Eh...ya have a point. Still, I dun see why ya haven't called Nakamori-keibu--"
"Idiot. It's obvious, isn't it? I may not know what this is all about, but if Kaitou Kid came here, then it means that Kudo Shinichi somehow involved. He wouldn't have come here otherwise."
"And because Kudo Shinichi is involved, ya can't have the police take 'im away."
"Exactly. I wouldn't have even called you if I could have avoided it, but like this, I can't do anything."
"Oi...ya should call me even if ya dun need help movin' dead weight around and helpin' patch up a world-wanted thief--"
"Idiot. If I did, your life would be in ten times the amount of danger it already is--"
"Ahou, I can take care've myself, and besides, Kazuha already thinks I'm a danger to myself, chasin' after thieves and murderers--"
"Ah! I think he's waking up."
The first thing he felt was pain. Choking, suffocating pain that made him fist his hands in the--bedsheets?--and shudder violently as he panted for breath. He screwed his eyes even more tightly shut, trying to keep out the light that was pounding into his skull, trying to block all the horrible sensations that assaulted him, trying to remember what had happened and figure out where he was and who those two voices were--
"Oi. Kid--" the first voice said just as a hand was placed on his shoulder.
He reacted without thought, blindly flinging out an arm to dislodge the hand as he bolted up-right. A surprised yelp of pain followed by a shout of, "He's still in fight or flight mode--Hattori!" The last part was a warning as he then kicked off the blankets and sheets--what was he doing in a bed and not
surrounded by blood foul stench in his nose covering him his gloved hands finding no grip she was going to kill him just like he'd killed him--
He had been ready to spring from the bed, eyes still tightly shut, but the sudden assault of those memories, of those feelings, of those images...it made him lose control and he found himself falling without direction, not able to catch himself. He readied himself for impact only to feel himself be grabbed from behind and then pulled back onto the bed, pressed against a warm body that struggled to keep from overbalancing and falling off the other side.
"Gotcha," the voice said, Kansai accent making itself more well known to his panic and pain-filled mind. He had been ready to put up another fight to get away but found himself out of energy and unable to carry out his normal escape methods. So he resigned himself to whatever fate he had as he sat there, sweating, panting, and shaking all over. From panic, from pain, from exhaustion...but most of all, from fear. Fear that left him breathless and wanting to scream at the same time.
He was alive, but it had been so close...
Almost as though he understood what was going through the thief's mind, the lower voice of the two muttered in a clumsy attempt to be soothing, "Hey, hey...it's okay. Kudo and I aren't gonna do anythin' t'ya. And if ya keep tryin' ta put up a fight like that, you're gonna ruin those patch-up jobs we worked so hard on."
Again, a hand was placed on his shoulder, and he flinched.
Immediately the hand was taken away. "Okay...so no touchin'."
A soft snort came from the end of the bed. "One would think you would have learned that lesson the first time around, Hattori."
"Well, how was I supposed ta know he was gonna react that way?" the voice--Hattori, he told himself, collecting his thoughts and sorting out the entire situation in his mind, pushing out those sickening and horrifying images--Hattori Heiji demanded, seeming upset that he was being mocked.
The other voice--the voice of none other than Edogawa Conan aka Kudo Shinichi--gave a sigh before he explained, "Hattori, this is a person who runs from people for a career. Of course he's not going to like being touched. Not to mention his injuries and the events that may have occurred--"
A noise must have escaped him because the bickering stopped. Hattori shifted behind him, as though he wasn't entirely sure what he should be doing, while Kudo quietly spoke up to ask, "What happened that night, Kaitou Kid?"
Kaitou Kid, who was actually no more than Kuroba Kaito, a teenager the same age as these two detectives (minus the fact that Kudo wasn't exactly in his proper form), gritted his teeth as his hand flew to his head. It was, as Hattori had said, wrapped nice and neatly, hiding the ugly bullet wound he could feel throbbing in pain every time he breathed. Kaito didn't want to remember that night, didn't want to explain what had happened, why it had happened, why he had chosen to run to Kudo's for safety. He didn't want to deal with it, just wanted to run as he was always able to, run and survive like he had that night--by the skin of his teeth.
While he struggled to keep those memories from revisiting, he caught the end of Hattori's doubtful, "--wait till he's healed?"
Kaito listened as Kudo replied with that stern voice that he'd mimicked several times before, "Waiting will just give him a chance to bury it. Half the time a person goes through a traumatic event, if they are not questioned immediately after, they will forget details. They'll just know and remember that something horrible happened but keep themselves from actually remembering anything. You should know that better than anyone, Detective of the West."
There was a period of silence, and Kaito could practically feel the chagrin coming off the Kansai detective in waves. But...Kudo had a point, didn't he? He'd been half-delirious at the time, maybe, but he had definitely come to Kudo for a reason.
Kaito felt himself start to shake again as he resigned himself to answering the questions the small detective would ask of him. "Aa...you're right, t-tantei-kun..." he managed to whisper, feeling sweat trickle down his face as he felt Hattori's hands on his arms, as if trying to stop the constant shivers that shook the thief's body.
Again, there was a moment of silence before he heard the not-child exhale. It was obvious that he was preparing for a long ordeal. "What happened?" he was finally asked.
A simple question.
An impossible answer to give.
He sat there, trembling uncontrollably, drenched in a cold sweat, struggling to summon the words but unable to for fear that he would relive it all. That was the point, however, in order for the detectives to understand what had happened, what the events meant--or at least the last part of it all. Kudo and Hattori didn't need to know...they didn't need to hear him confess...
Unbidden, the words came in a mumble, "Kill or be killed. Run away to survive another day..."
He could sense the underlying confusion that the detectives were feeling but knew that they were thinking hard about the implications.
"Kill or be killed..." he heard Hattori mutter to himself only to feel those hands jerk away from his arms. "Dun tell me--"
Kudo interrupting, continuing the interrogation by asking instead, "Whose blood were you covered in?"
A shaky breath escape him before he forced himself to answer, "Mine...and two others'."
"Did you kill them both?"
The question was so blunt and so direct that Kaito's eyes shot open, and he found himself numbly staring at the small detective, not knowing what to say or how to answer. There was some accusation in the shrunken teenager's eyes, but it was watered down with things such as pity and intense thought. Kudo knew at that it was one of two answers--Kaitou Kid himself had eliminated the third option himself.
After a long moment, Kaito looked away, bringing his other hand to his head, bowing his head to stare at the neutral color of the sheets of the bed he sat on. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to recall ever having committed such and act--a betrayal, hadn't it been? But hadn't he been tricked into defending himself in such a way? No...he could have run--or at the very least, used the non-lethal cardgun to knock the gun from--
Kudo wasn't going to be patient with this answer, demanding, "Kaitou Kid, did you kill--did you murder those two other people whose blood was on your clothes that night?"
Kaito closed his eyes, choking as he tried to answer, tried to keep silent. "No..." he found himself saying after another long moment of silence. "One killed the other...then pulled his gun on me...so I--I thought he was really going to--"
"What weapons were used?" Kudo broke in, cutting him off.
This answer came quickly as he felt the pace of the questioning pick up speed, feeling sickened that he couldn't stop himself from answering or remembering, "Guns."
"You have a gun?"
"No." He shook his head, lowering his right hand, staring at it and remembering it being covered with a stained white glove. "I took the gun from the first person...used it to keep him subdued, to keep him from lashing out, but it was a bluff. Was going to knock him out and have the cops get him. Jii--"
"Who's Jii?"
His throat closed, and he couldn't answer, shaking his head, not able to look at the detective.
Kudo quickly backtracked. "So this Jii killed the first guy."
He nodded slowly, beginning to feel a bit dizzy. Maybe it was from the blood loss, from the over-exertion from trying to escape and answering the questions. Right then, Kaito was actually really thankful that Hattori was keeping him sitting up. Otherwise, he would have been unconscious by then, leaving them with only have the story...but maybe with enough answers to know what they should do.
"And you killed this Jii in self-defense."
Kaito didn't answer because at that point, he really didn't know.
Kudo just pressed on, "You mentioned 'run and survive another day.' Does this mean you ran from someone after that?"
That question alone made the feeling of nausea, of dizziness even worse than it had been, making him remember with dread and horror the feeling of being trapped--pinned to the ground and so close to death that there didn't seem to be an escape. But he had escaped. He had to remember that. That he had made it out alive and away from that woman--that woman who had--
You always were a brat, weren't you?
His hands were shaking violently now, and he could hear Hattori muttering something behind him. The words didn't seem to make it past the memory of that high-pitch whine that had been in his ear, of the sound of that woman's voice, mocking him as he struggled to get away--
I hardly see the value in you now that Konosuke-san's dead.
He felt like he was going to be sick, and both detectives apparently realized this because he suddenly felt a glass of water being shoved into his hands--but he managed to shake his head. He dimly heard Hattori tell him not to be so stubborn. After all, what was the point in thinking that he shouldn't unwittingly give them a DNA sample when they already had his face?
He still didn't drink but clutched at the glass as if it were a life-line, struggling to turn his focus away from that night and back to the present where Kudo was watching him closely, noting every detail and every action that the thief made.
Kaito tried to give a grin typical of the legendary Kaitou Kid, but as soon as he had it on, it broke. With everything that he was feeling right then, he didn't feel like smiling--not even to hide it all.
If anything, he felt like crying.
He let out a ragged breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding, staring down at the glass of water, willing himself to calm down again, to keep from allowing the memory to overwhelm him. It was during this short, although it felt so much longer to him at the time, period of silence that he realized that the nausea, dizziness, shaking, and constant sweating was more than just shaken nerves. His vision was going double on him, blurring around the edges.
And he still hadn't answered the question.
So, knowing there wasn't much time, he struggled to put the words together but found himself choking on them whenever he tried to speak.
While Kaito tried again and again to answer the question that would explain why he'd run to Kudo's house, he suddenly felt a hand against his forehead--surprisingly cool and soothing despite the fact that he'd flinched away from previous touches.
A curse escaped Hattori. "He's burnin' up," the Kansai detective stated harshly, leaving Kaito dazedly wondering if this was more serious than he was thinking. "Kudo, we gotta let him rest. The stress--oi, Kudo, are ya listenin' ta me?"
Kaito lifted his eyes from the glass of water to see that Kudo was not in fact paying any mind to the other detective and was, instead, paying very close attention to the feverish thief before him. It was probably a combination of that sharp expression on the shrunken detective's face and the on-coming fever that made it finally seem possible to grin--an obviously fake, self-loathing grin that helped him find the words he needed to answer the question.
"She...tried to kill me. That woman...from your organization..."
He was only able to see Kudo's expression transform from intense concentration to outright horror and grim understanding before he felt the glass slip from his hands, which were shaking much too hard to keep a grip any longer--before he found himself falling forward only to be caught from behind again just as everything went dark.
"O-oi!" Hattori shouted after he'd caught the unconscious thief by the waist. "Passin' out like that--"
"It's no good," Shinichi said quietly, still staring at the young man who was Kaitou Kid, not really knowing what to feel about all of this. "He was barely hanging on throughout most of the questioning, though I have no idea when he realized that himself."
The dark-skinned teenager carefully pulled Kid's limp form up so that he was laying against his chest. Kid's face was unnaturelly flushed while the rest of him seemed so pale, and he was panting for breath in a way seemed too short and too shallow. For Shinichi, it was no surprise that this boy who played the role as a world-reknowned phantom thief had come to be in this sort of condition. Even without knowing all of the details, just knowing the basic events of that night was enough.
Kaitou Kid had witnessed someone killed, had killed someone himself, and then had been the target himself. Had been targetted by a woman who by all accounts should have been able to kill the thief--no matter how fast he was at running or dodging.
Just what was Vermouth playing at?
"Kudo." Shinichi looked to Hattori, who was inspecting the thief's bandages to see if the earlier fight to escape had damaged anything. Besides the head wound which seemed to not want to stop seeping even a bit of blood, everything else appeared fine. "I dunno much 'bout fevers or anythin', but his seems pretty high. We should take 'im ta the hospital but bein' who he is, we can't just hand 'im over--especially since--"
The Kansai detective stopped himself, seeming to refocus his attention on the ailing thief.
Shinichi understood the real reason why he'd stopped. "Aa," he replied gravely, "Especially since he's a target of the Black Organization now. Though why he would come here when this could actually be the most dangerous place to go--"
"It isn't."
Both detectives whipped their heads to look at the doorway where a small girl stood, looking in with an air of bored curiosity and knowing.
Shinichi resisted the urge to put a hand to his heart to calm himself. She'd surprised him. "H-Haibara--" he managed to get out, cutting himself off as she walked into the room and up to the bed, peering up at Kaitou Kid in a studious manner that made Shinichi quickly realize that they had another option. "Haibara, do you think you could help us with him? We can't--"
"I heard," she stated primly, stopping him short. She then looked to him with a grim expression. "But do you really think it's safe to take him in? If he thought that Vermouth was trying to kill him, he was sadly mistaken. Veremouth does not miss. She let him escape."
"Even though she managed ta hit 'im more'n once?" Hattori asked with some confusion.
Haibara only glanced his way for a moment. "Yes, especially then." Again, she gave Shinichi a side-ways glance with a bit of a smirk. "Don't tell me that the meitantei hasn't thought of the possibility."
"I've thought about it," he said grudgingly, looking over to study the unconscious Kaitou Kid again, "but that doesn't explain why he thought it was safe to come here. He knew who Vermouth was. He knew that she probably knows who I am, and yet he still came here. There's just no logical reason why he would come or even why Vermouth would want him to, if this is all her doing--"
"We can think more 'bout that as soon as we make sure that this guy won't die on us," Hattori interrupted stubbornly, making the two not-children look over to him in surprise. The Kansai detective picked up the spilt glass of water and put it on the nearby nightstand before continuing, "If we're gonna get any answers, it probably won't be till Kid wakes up and answers 'em, and in order for him ta do that, we gotta bring down his fever--"
"Simple remedies won't work."
Again, both detectives looked to the scientist. "What do you mean, Haibara?" Shinichi asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
The girl looked up at him for a moment before looking to the fevered young man. "He's been poisoned."
"Poisoned?" both detectives demanded in surprised and horror.
They hadn't even thought to assume that that would be the case, Shinichi realized as he looked to Kid again with growing dread and anxiety. There had only been bullet wounds--
His eyes widened, and he shouted, "Hattori, his back!"
The other detective went pale. "But that--"
"His back--?" Haibara asked with some confusion only to be cut off by Shinichi explaining, "There was a deep bruise on his back--about the size of a woman's heel. Now that I know who had been there, it's so obvious! Vermouth had Kid pinned down, most likely--judging from the location of the bruise and the fact that it was mostly his front that had been covered in blood--"
"Blood?" Again, the young scientist was confused, apparently having missed this part of the whole story.
Shinichi ignored her, quickly running through the scenerios in his head. "If she was just using the pressure of the heel on that location on his back, the pain had to have been enough to distract him if she was doing something else--poisoning him. But how would she do it?" He put a fist to his mouth, a thumb under his chin as his mind raced with possibilities. "We didn't find any other marks on him. Bullet wounds and that bruise on his back. The bullets couldn't have been coated with something because most likely the heat created by the friction in firing the gun could nullify the effects--"
Hattori spoke up then to add, "And there's no way for the bruise itself ta be the point where the poison was introduced ta his system 'cause there's no break in the skin, plus it'd just be on his clothes rather than his skin. With it on his back, there's no way he'd reach it himself and accidentally ingest it or somethin' like with cyanide--"
"Blood," Haibara said calmly, interrupting the flood of words.
For the third time, the two detectives paused, looking to each other before realizing-- "He was covered in it," Shinichi said, suddenly seeming shakened by the thought.
Hattori was looking at the thief in shock. "With those open wounds, if she was ta just even lightly lace it with somethin'..."
"The problem now is knowing which poison," Shinichi said, running a hand nervously through his hair as he realized how much time they were losing by figuring this all out. He looked over to his fellow not-child. "Haibara, you've got to help us. He can't die."
"Why not?"
Shinichi stared at her, stunned. "What?"
"Why can't he die, Kudo?" the girl asked him with a severe tone. "This is a man who is a danger to your cover and the livelihood of all that you hold dear. By keeping him alive, you're just making yourself a more physical target than ever before. It's one thing to get involved with murder cases and hide behind the Sleeping Kogoro--it's something else completely to take in someone targeted by them--"
"We took you in, didn't we?" Shinichi demanded sharply.
The former operative of the Black Organization stared at him blankly. "And I have a use. I am working toward making a cure, am I not?" She gestured to Kid. "What use is he? A thief. Someone who goes against all of your principles and who will probably offer nothing in return for your having saved him--"
"We can't know that until we do save him!" the detective shouted back, fisting his hands to keep from doing anything rash. "He came here for a reason! I don't know what it is yet but if we can keep him alive, he can tell us when he's able! He--"
"Is a liability," Haibara stated bluntly.
Shinichi stared at her, going silent as he studied the young woman who was in the same situation as him. In a way, she was right. It would be better if there was no more Kaitou Kid--no more thief that had been put into a situation he wouldn't be able to get out of. A situation that had been as much beyond his control as that night at Tropical Land had been beyond Shinichi's. Sure, he could understand the reasoning behind just allowing Kid to suffer through the effects of the poison before ultimately expiring from whatever nasty--or if the thief was lucky, mild--afflictions, but...
"I can't," he said aloud, looking Haibara in the eye, letting her know how much he had thought about the situation. Of course, it hadn't even been a few hours since he'd found Kid collapsed in his livingroom, but he'd considered all the possibilities of keeping Kid alive and safe. Had considered other possibilities--ones that Haibara had been quick to pick up on. "I know he's going to be nothing but trouble for us, but he's just like us, Haibara."
Now those were words that Shinichi never thought he would say, and he glanced oiver to Hattori to see how he took them as well. The Kansai Detective looked back at him with a considering expression, frustration and worry for Kid's livelyhood evident. Shinichi knew exactly why Hattori was worrying. There was a very good possibility that if they didn't act fast enough and it would be too late and anything Kid could have told them would be lost.
The one-time-teenaged detective looked back to the shrunken scientist to see her reaction to his words. He was almost startled to see that she was calmly staring back at him. A bit confused, he readied himself to begin the argument anew, ready to state that for all they knew Kid would only have mere minutes, but what interrupted before he could even start.
"There's no cure for it."
Both detectives' eyes widened in horror, dread and some inner alarm sounding throughout their systems as they quickly looked to the fevered thief, only to hear Haibara say with a bit too smug of a tone in her voice, "But it's mostly harmless. Flu-like symptoms if anything. A bad flu with fevers reaching up to maybe 39.5°C, dehydration induced in multiple ways, and of course, sore throat, dry mouth, stuffed nose--"
"WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE?" the two detectives exclaimed loudly.
The scientist remained unfazed, still seeming amused. "I wanted to be sure that you understood your own motives," she said with a bit of a smirk before her faced closed again and her voice dropped into a more serious timbre, "You know our risk if we take in this thief, Kudo. And you know that that could be exactly what they are wanting us to do."
Shinichi continued to glare at her for a moment before looking over again to the unconscious Kid. "I know," he said stiffly. "That's part of the reason I can't just let him go. If they're up to something, Kid holds the only clue I've got to work at sovling the puzzle and figuring out if they're coming after us and where and when."
Haibara didn't comment on his flawed logic, and instead, went to the nighttable to get the glass that had been spilled earlier. "I'll get him some water," she said shortly, turning to go.
"Oi," Hattori called out before she could fully leave the room, "Just one thing. How th' hell can a virus be contracted from a poison? Dun viruses have a short life-span if they dun have a livin' body ta live in?"
Shinichi looked curiously to her as well, wanting to know the answer to the question as well.
A dark, self-loathing smirk came onto Haibara's face that was quickly hidden behind the door jam. "You shouldn't ask such questions, Hattori-tantei," she said coolly and in a manner that sent a cold shiver up Shinichi's spine as she continued down the hall. "Those are questions that get detectives like you killed."
The relief that came with Haibara's reveal of the "poison"'s true nature was quickly deterred by the knowledge that it would still be a long while yet before the thief was healthy enough to even begin to give them any real help. With his temperature running somewhere around the 38°C and 39°C area, Kid was hardly able keep conscious. Let alone try to coherently tell them every minute detail of the murders and Kid's alledged escape--alledged because Shinichi still very much doubted that someone like Vermouth had simply let him go...
Except there was still something nagging at him, telling him he was missing something.
He was sitting on the edge of what had once been his bed and was now the temporary hospital bed for the ailing Kid, biting at his thumb nail and narrowing his eyes in thought as he kicked his decidedly short legs against the bed, when the first sounds other than harsh pants escaped Kid. At first, Shinichi hadn't even realized it was Kid making the sounds, until the thief began to move, either trying to escape from the bed--again--or trying to escape mad women with pistols, he wasn't sure, but it was eerie enough to make Shinichi realize that this was not going to be easy at all.
Shinichi had had his fair share of night terrors--of men dressed in black coming after him, torturing him for any and all information he may have revealed to others about their innerworkings before finally putting him out of his misery. More than once, he'd woken up, sweat pouring into his wide eyes, panting for breath, hands clenching at the blankets, shaking all over. Almost always silent, though. Because he couldn't afford Ran or--heaven forbid--Kogoro finding out that there was something wrong with him.
So when Shinichi realized what exactly was going on, he turned toward the thief and, careful not to touch the larger teenager, whispered in what he hoped was soothing tones, "Easy. It's just a nightmare. Just a nightmare."
It didn't seem to help at all, and instead, the thief became even more agitated. Shinichi sat back and blew a frustrated sigh. Of course he'd react that way. Why on earth had he thought otherwise? This was not going to make things any easier, he decided beforee hopping down from the bed and exiting the room in order to intercept Hattori who had been acting more of the nurse-maid for the past few hours. Something that made Shinichi grumble to himself about picky thieves.
Hattori frowned at him as he reached the top of the stairs. "I'm guessin' you're not likin' this arrangement," he said lightly, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
Shinichi scowled at him, arms crossing over his chest, annoyance pouring out in waves from his small body. "Oh, yes. I always like taking care of sick phantom thieves when I'm the size of a 7 years and when he only seems to get worse whenever I try to help." A withering look was shot to the snerking detective. "Plus, you can't exactly stay here all week to wait out his flu. So without you around, I'm down one person who can help out."
"Whatta 'bout Agasa?" Hattori asked, quickly stepping forward to glance into the bedroom to be sure that Kid was at least not going to try for the window again or something.
The shrunken detective blew another irritated sigh. "He went to some sort of scientific convention. Something about inventors and former colleagues," he said shortly before pausing and reconsidering. "Or maybe it was a university reunion or something--"
"So basically, if I go, it's just you and Haibara."
"Hardly," Shinichi said dryly with a scowl. "She's basically washed her hands of the situation. She's pretty much locked herself in the lab and won't open the door for anything--not even cries of imminent death."
Hattori's lips twisted into a vaguely amused frown. "Y'actually did somethin' like that?"
Shinichi shifted a bit, uncrossing his arms and interlocking his fingers behind his head, elbows high in the air as he looked away from the other detective in a manner that he used mostly when the Detective Boys had caught him in a not-so-subtle lie. "Well, sorry, but I had to make sure she wasn't just avoiding the work. She only gets this into research when she's getting close to something. Usually, she at least chews me out for making up stories."
"Hm..." Hattori hummed, obviously imagining the scene in his head and trying not to laugh too hard so he could maintain a fairly straight face. Instead of commenting on Shinichi's behavior, he asked, "So we need a thief-sitter?"
"They don't have to know who he is," Shinichi said slowly, thinking it out carefully in his methodic mind. "In fact, we really don't know who he is. We know approximate age and what he looks like--"
"An awful lot like you," the Kansai detective said meaningfully as he glanced into the bedroom again.
Shinichi frowned. "Well, it explains why he never had to use a mask when dressing as me," he said with a frown before shaking his head, getting himself to focus on the real issue. "Anyway, we can easily just say that he just stumbled into my house. It's not like weird things like this hasn't happened before."
Hattori looked back to the smaller detective, appearing a bit unsure with the idea. "I dunno...considerin' how he got here, I dun think it would be that good've an idea ta drag in more people--"
"You think I like the thought of what could happen if anyone else gets involved?" Shinichi asked with some exasperation, lowering his arms and crossing them as he looked to the ground, brow furrowed in thought. "I have no idea if anyone from that organization--especially that woman--may have an idea as to where Kid would run to, but the fact of the matter is that there's just no way I can take care of him myself."
Worrying his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, he then brought a fist to his mouth before quietly saying, "As for who we get to help, as I said before, we don't have to tell them anything about him. Could just say he is, as of now, an unidentified victim of an attempted murder, which is almost exactly the case here--"
"And it's gotta be someone who regularly comes here," Hattori put in, only getting thoughtful silence as a response. It was during this silence that the idea came to the dark-skinned detective who then snapped his fingers and said with a victorious grin. "That's it! That's the answer!"
"What is?" the shrunken detective asked, raising his eyebrows as he thought of the possible answers that his friendly rival could possibly come up with.
Raising an index finger on one hand, Hattori leaned forward in order to lower himself a bit more to the not-kid's height. "It's simple!" he stated lightly before putting forth the question, "Who d'ya know that you would completely trust, who can handle themselves in a tight situation, and who comes ta your house every so often ta the point that it wouldn't be strange at all if they started comin' a bit more frequently for a time?"
Giving the Kansai detective an unamused look, Shinichi thought about it for a moment. There was no way it was one of the kids--they could hardly keep from getting kidnapped all those different times being as small and helpless as they were. Kogoro was out because he definitely never set foot in the Kudo house ever since Shinichi's parents had moved overseas. And besides Sonoko who...just wouldn't exactly be able to do much except maybe scream for a hospital, that only left...
He immediately glared up at the taller teenager. "No," he stated flatly.
Hattori gave a bit of an exasperated sigh as he straightened his stance. "You're bein' stubborn 'bout this," he chided.
Shinichi frowned heavily at that before pointedly stating, "This could be a very dangerous situation. There is no way I'm going to put her in that sort of danger--"
"Kudo," the other detective broke in, voice level and calm, effectively cutting off whatever else Shinichi had meant to say in argument, "you really dun have the option or the time ta be thinkin' 'bout those sorta things. Now, I dun want Neesan ta be in danger just as much as you do--"
"I doubt that," glowered the not-kid sourly.
Hattori continued, undeterred, "But. If anythin' was ta go wrong, not only does she have the advantage've bein' the daughter've a detective and a karate champion, but you can always hang around and keep an eye on things ta make sure nothin' gets outta hand." Without waiting for a comment from the other boy, the Osakajin put his hands on his hips and stared down at his comrade with a smug expression. "Well? Gotta argument against that?"
Shinichi continued to frown which only became more and more of a frustrated expression as he tried, and failed, to come up with a valid counterpoint.
He eventually surrendered to the other detective's will.
Giving a quick grin of victory, Hattori then reached out to pat an irate Conan on the head, musing his dark hair as he commented, "See, this is why ya should never question my greatness. It's obvious that I'm at least ten years ahead've ya in the thinkin' department."
Shinichi didn't even bother swatting the hand away and merely retorted, "Har har har. Whatever." The hand lifted after this not-quite admission, and he blew a sigh as he put a hand into his pocket and withdrew his cellphone meant for Shinichi. "Well, I guess I'll have to call her and let her know about all of this. Don't know how exactly I'm going to pull this off since one would think that I would be here in person to help with all of this."
Hattori waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "You'll be out investigatin'. Investigatin'," he said lightly, turning to look into the bed room again. "And I'll try ta get back here as quick as I can ta help. Seems like things will get worse from here on."
"Aa," replied Shinichi with a bit of a smirk. "But no matter what the Black Organization might be up to, I'll catch onto their game. Whether or not Vermouth was the one who directed Kid here, there's something more to all of this and I'll eventually have all the pieces of the puzzle."
He flipped his phone open and quickly ran through his call list with one had while the other picked up his bow tie and changed it to the proper setting. Just as he hit the call button and lifted it to his ear, the young detective brought the tie close to his mouth so that when he next spoke as the phone rang, it was the voice of the grown Kudo Shinichi which stated, "It's only a matter of time and as you said, that's something we're rapidly running out of."
It had at first seemed such an odd thing to ask of her, but she went along with it. First of all, there was a very sick boy lying upstairs in Shinichi's bed. A sick boy who'd witnessed a murder and was probably in danger because of it. The poor boy, Ran would continuously think to herself whenever she checked in on him.
Second of all, it was Shinichi who had asked her, had explained to her the situation, and had insisted continuously that under no circumstance was she to call the police. "It's like the Witness Protection and Relocation Program," he'd said urgently over the phone. "By calling attention to him, his location, or his situation, you could be endangering him and yourself."
She'd tried to reason with him, but he remained firm. He'd apologized, however, for making her go through all of the trouble of caring for the victim. "I would have gotten Hattori to stay up here to do it, but there's no telling how long this will take and he's got school in Osaka. So until he can get clearance to leave school temporarily, there's not much he can do," he'd said, voice sounding weary and strained. "And I would be there, too, but I have to act on what information he gave me before he passed out--before it's too late and these people are too far gone out of reach.
"I'm sorry for the sudden trouble, but you're the only one I can trust with this, Ran..."
In a way, it was a thrill. Hearing those words was enough for her, even if she still gave him a hard time about it. It was Shinichi, after all. One of the best--if not the best, even if she'd directly never tell him so--detectives was trusting her with such a case.
It wasn't until she'd actually seen the boy that she realized exactly why Shinichi had seemed so harried. Wrapped in bandages, covered in sweat, trembling in pain and fevered chills, the teenaged boy tucked into Shinichi's bed appeared so frail and in need of serious care. It was more extreme than she would have believed, and Ran had been more than a bit worried that she wouldn't be able to handle the suddenly large responsibility.
Shinichi helped soothe her worries, however, by calling every hour or so, checking on things from afar, instructing her on how to handle the changing of bandages and how to be careful when dealing with the particularly nasty head wound the young man sported--a bullet shot at close range, Shinichi had informed her grimly.
Still, even with the boy--who Shinichi confessed to not knowing the name of, having not been able to get that far before the other boy passed out--unconscious for the most part, it was a tiring experience. Ran had taken care of victims of such acts before, but they'd always been handed off almost immediately to someone of better skill such as a doctor or a nurse. With this boy, nothing seemed to help.
Shifting him to change his bandages seemed to hurt him more than help even though Shinichi calmly told her that the only way to get better in these situations is to let pain run its course. ("If he's not feeling any pain, then something's wrong.") His temperature seemed permenantly stuck on 39.5°C. She was able to get him to drink water to keep him hydrated--something she would have remembered herself even without Shinichi harping about it in her ear--but it was never enough to help, especially once when he'd partially woken up long enough to heave whatever was still in stomach.
By the end of the morning of the first day taking care of the unknown boy, Ran was thoroughly exhausted and took the time to make her way down to the living room and sit herself down on the comfortable couch. She settled into the folds of the couch, laying her head against the back of it as she permitted herself a moment of rest, knowing that it would do no one any good if she was constantly fretting over the poor boy upstairs. If she exhausted herself too much, then there wouldn't be anyone left to take care of him. Shinichi was off investigating, Heiji-kun was in Osaka trying to get permission to leave school so that he could help...
Sighing before she let her thoughts dwell on those kinds of things and thinking glumly to herself about how much work she would have to make up in school this time, Ran lifted her head and sat up so that she could lean forward to grab the television remote.
Her hand had just begun to hover over the controller when her cellphone, which she'd placed on the coffee table next to the remote, began to vibrate, humming for a brief moment before a familiar ringtone filled the air. Another sigh escaping her, she picked up her cellphone in her left hand while reaching out and grabbing the remote in her right.
Flipping the cellphone open, she turned the television on as she spoke into the mouthpiece, "Patient is resting and so is the caretaker."
There was a heartbeat of silence before a small laugh reached her ear. "Well, that's good to hear," Shinichi's voice said lightly, despite the heavy exhaustion that weighed down his tone. Ran could feel her heart race and clench at the same time in the manner it always did whenever she could finally hear his voice again. "I take it that his fever hasn't broken yet either."
A statement, Ran noted, not a question.
She sighed. "No, and I've tried everything. The most I can do is just pile on the blankets and let his body flush it out," she said, feeling that sadness and pity for the boy upstairs twist her guilt guiltily as she knew that she was essentially incapable of truly helping him.
Shinichi didn't quite sigh, but Ran knew that he was only holding back because he knew just how useless she was feeling, saying instead, "Well, we'll just have to wait it out is all. Once the fever's broken then he'll be able to recover quicker and I may be able to get more of a lead on where the murderer may have gone--"
"Oh," Ran said in startlement as her eyes caught onto something showing on the television. "How sad..."
A pause came from the other line. "Sad? What's going on?"
Shaking her head slightly in order to return her focus briefly to Shinichi's voice even as she began to raise the volume on the television, she answered, "Nothing over here. It's on the news--which doesn't surprise me that the news is the first channel the tv's set on." At Shinichi's silence, she knew to progress with the details. "There was a suicide in Edoka, a widow of a famous magician named Kuroba Toichi. They're saying that it happened anywhere between fourteen to sixteen hours before the body was found by a close friend. That happened five hours ago."
"Hm..." was all the detective would say, as though he was waiting for some other bit of information, knowing that a puzzled was there and was ready to solve it but he was missing a piece.
Ran couldn't help but to give the phone at her ear a bit of an annoyed look. "What are you going all 'hm...' for?"
There was another small pause before Shinichi replied, sounding uncertain, as if he was trying to make himself believe it, "It might be nothing but--"
Whatever sort of reasoning her childhood friend was verbally walking through was lost to her as she listened intently to the report being given by the newscaster.
"Ran? You still there? Oi. Ran? Ran."
Snapping back to the phone conversation, she quickly murmured, "Sorry, they mentioned something about the woman's son. Said he's missing at the moment and, even though his mother called his school to say that he was unable to attend school, no one's seen him since the night of the last Kaitou Kid heist."
Silence came from the other end of the line, and Ran automatically knew that Shinichi had found the last piece of the puzzle. Brow furrowing in uncertainty as she looked away from the news broadcast, she asked with some concern, "Shinichi?"
There was an edge of urgency in Shinichi's voice. "Ran, what was Kuroba-san's son's name?"
She floundered for a moment, turning her head to the side as though she could see Shinichi beside her when he was some distance away. "Shinichi, what--?" she tried to ask but was interrupted by the detective loudly saying, "His name, Ran! It's important!"
Not knowing what was wrong, she hesitantly began, "Kuroba Kai--" A noise from her left made her jerk in that direction, standing from the couch and staring in horror at the sight of the injured boy leaning heavily against the doorway. It was only then that her mind made the connection. "Kaito!" she exclaimed before quickly rushing over to him.
The boy, none other than the missing Kuroba Kaito, didn't seem to acknowledge her, putting a hand above himself and struggling to get back to his feet, panting and sweating heavily. The fever still had a hold over him, evident by his flushed face and shaking body. Ran stared at him, not knowing what to do and clutching to the cellphone where Shinichi was now shouting to get her attention.
When she winced from a particularly loud shout from the other line, Kuroba's eyes looked up to meet her. It was then that she saw all of his pain--physical and emotional alike--and realized that he'd been there for sometime and had heard the news. Her own eyes started to water with tears of sympathy and worry.
His eyes hardened in response, jaw clenching tightly before he then asked quietly, voice rough from disuse and strain, "Is that Kudo?"
Frozen, not knowing how to answer, Ran just stared at him.
Kuroba held out his free hand and silently bade her to give her the phone. When she still didn't move, he then said tightly, "Mouri-san, give me the phone."
Surprisingly, it was only then that Ran realized that Shinichi had gone quiet, probably knowing what was happening, probably able to hear the boy's quiet voice through the phone. Silently, she pulled the phone from her ear and placed it in his waiting hand.
She was somehow sure if it were any other time, she would have gotten a quick smile of appreciation and apology from the injured boy. As it was, he merely took the phone and put it to his own ear, turning his body so that his back was against the doorjam and allowing himself to sink to the floor. "Kudo..." he said, voice very hoarse, almost as if he were going to cry, though Ran saw no sign of tears in his eyes.
Not knowing what else to do but knowing that she wasn't needed or wanted there, Ran left the room and went to search for the Kudos' First Aid kit. She could only imagine what kind of damage Kuroba Kaito had done to his wounds by walking all the way downstairs and to the sitting room...
Kaito only barely noticed Mouri Ran's departure and repeated when nothing but silence met his voice, "Kudo."
A sigh came from the other side of the line, voice still sounding like the grown Kudo Shinichi through the use of that bowtie of his. "Kid," the detective said in a controlled manner.
Kaito leaned his head back against the doorjam, feeling his whole body protest against the movement. The again, it protested against him just sitting there, so there wasn't any point in listening to it now. "You might as well call me by my name," he said, feeling his voice weaken and begin to crack as he finished, "since you've already heard it."
A long moment of silence came then and would have continued if Kaito hadn't continued as he closed his eyes, "It's not like you wouldn't have found out anyway since you and Hattori saw my face. All you would need to do was run a quick search on high school students and you'd find out--"
"Kuroba..." Kudo's voice came slowly, almost hesitant.
Kaito bit back a noise in his throat, knowing what the detective was trying not to say. "We were safe," he whispered, mostly to himself. "We were safe and I blew it. I gave it away. I killed Jii, they probably thought I killed their man, too. Jii was probably the only one that kept them off our tails, but I blew it. I--"
"Kuroba, get a hold of yourself," Kudo said, voice still quiet but a stern tone entering now. "You can't blame yourself for all of this. You weren't the one who pulled the trigger--"
"Ha!" Kaito laughed to himself, feeling a smile spread on his lips even as he continued to pant for breath that seemed but too short and shallow. "I might not have pulled that trigger, but I did pull a trigger, and by doing that, I condemned her--"
"You know that's not why it happened--" the detective argued.
"Oh, what do you know?" the thief demanded loudly, leaning violently forward, ignoring the shocks of pain running throughout his body. The other line was silent as Kaito continued, "What do you know about me, Kudo Shinichi, meitantei? You know about my night job--great for you. You know my name--wonderful. You know that my father was killed eight years ago--congratulations! You've figured out who the first one was! You know that my mother was killed--killed when I could have stopped them from getting to her--!"
"You're getting hysterical," Kudo broke in loudly over his voice. "You're still running a fairly dangerous fever and you're not thinking straight. You're still processing everything--from the whole thing with that Jii to your mother--"
"Stop acting like you're some kind of friend!" Kaito shouted, lashing out as much as he could when his rival--enemy was out of range. "Fact is that you wouldn't have even noticed or cared about this all happening if I hadn't shown up in your house--!"
"Why did you go to my house?" the detective broke in suddenly.
The thief gritted his teeth, struggling to remain calm, struggling to work past the fever and the turbulent emotions rolling within him. Poker Face...he had to remember Poker Face... "I bet that's also something you didn't really notice," he said coldly, opening his eyes to glare at the wooden wall in from of him. "Ever notice, meitantei, that that woman never did you harm? Even when you were within her grasp? Even when she knows where you're hiding?"
Obviously disturbed by the amount of knowledge this particular rival had on him, Kudo demanded, "How do you know all of this?"
"Does it matter?" Kaito asked, a bit of a cruel smirk coming onto his face. "I keep my ear to the ground. I poke around to see what's what about my friends--and especially my enemies. Especially enemies who have a tendency to see through my disguises 100% of the time.
"I came to your house, Kudo," he continued lightly, able to, for the moment, put Poker Face on and hide away all the pain, anger, fear, sadness...and focused on rocking the detective's boat so hard he'd fall in the water with him, "because it was the safest place I could get from that woman. She protects you from them, did you know? Why else hasn't she told them where you really are? Why else would she, multiple times, let you get away without a single scratch of her own making? Don't tell me you never thought of the possibility, meitantei."
An angered silence was his only answer for a moment before Kudo said shortly, "I knew--or at the very least, suspected something was up with that woman. But that doesn't explain why she would target you like this. It doesn't explain why you were put in that situation in the first place--"
"So you've conveniently got my face, my name, my history, and now you want to hear my motives?" Kaito asked incredulously. "You're a cheat at this, Kudo. Hakuba at least had the decency to ask without any sort of idea already in his head--sure a couple of theories, but what could a newly-arrived half-British detective know what to expect from a thief he didn't even know?"
"Kuroba--"
He bit out tightly, "You have all your evidence, tantei-kun. Do your job and deduct it for once."
Again, another silence reigned.
Finally, the detective spoked, "Kuroba...what is it that scares you most? That they've managed to catch you? Or that someone else paid your price?"
Kaito didn't answer and just stared at the wall in front of him, willing himself not to let Poker Face falter, though he was starting to feel it crumble within his hands, not matter how hard he tried to keep it together.
"Don't mistaken my intentions," Kudo continued, his voice hard and precise. "I have no doubt in my mind that we're far from being each other's best friends, but we're alike, whether we like it or not. Fact is, I know the situation you're in. Someday, I might even be in that very spot you're sitting in, thinking those same thoughts you're thinking. The only reason I've wanted to help you is because of that. I didn't even have to know your face or name to know that something was up, that there's more to your story than some thief in the moonlight."
Said thief had the feeling that he was having some of his own words being thrown back at him and hung his head, struggling to control his breathing as Poker Face cracked. "Sky and water..." he whispered quietly.
"That's right," the detective agreed, voice equally soft. "I know I can't say I know what you're going through--I've been fortunate enough to avoid that, but any day, any moment...I could be right there, and my mother could be your mother."
Kaito didn't say anything in response, feeling the anger he was holding onto to help maintain Poker Face falter and slowly bleed away with those words. He knew only too well that Kudo was telling the truth.
"Kuroba," the other boy continued a subtle urgency to his voice, "is there anyone else that they would target to get to you? I need to get word to the police, to get them in protection--"
"The Nakamoris," Kaito answered, breaking in as he felt a lump form in his throat. "They're practically family to me. My classmates and teacher at school. A lot of us aren't close, but...and the Taskforce...can never know who they will go after, but you'll want to make sure they and their families are safe..."
"All right," Kudo said slowly before taking in a deep breath. "I'll give Megure-keibu the call. I know Nakamori-keibu will be the most difficult with all of this, but he'll listen to reason when everything is explained." There was a pause then before the detective said solemnly, "I'll do my best to keep them safe, Kuroba."
The thief felt himself laugh as his eyes began to sting with tears. "Hopefully you can, Kudo," he said in as light as a voice as he could manage before Poker Face completely shattered and his vision blurred. "Because I couldn't."
-fin... but not quite-
Good god, this thing took ages. I blame school. And work. And laziness. And my dead muses who suddenly sprung back to life *gives Kaito a dirty look*
So yeah. Kaito's mother was the victim this time. And you got it! It wasn't a suicide and both Shinichi and Kaito know that to be the truth. And thus... uh. Yeah. I dunno. I'm typing this up at 6:20 in the morning when I have a class at 9:30 in the morning. Thankfully, it's the only class I have today and I don't have work so...
... well, at least I did something productive with my insomnia rather than bemoan whatever it is I'm overly thinking about.
Again, this was written when I was kind of, sort of way out of it. Eyes blurring and head pounding... that sort of condition. So if it sucks, don't come crying to me. This thing too months to finish and I actually went through and fixed as much as I could see while in this condition. So... meh. Please to be pointing out any and all glaringly major errors and I'll fix them up... whenever I'm not severely sleep deprived.
And yes, there is yet another fic to this Murderer fic. Actually, there should be TWO more. And hopefully that's all. Especially if each fic keeps getting longer. Oi vey.
Anyway, thanks for reading. Don't kill me for being an insomniac. And, oh, Kaito sends his love to all!
*falls over*
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