Themed Writing Competition #34: Cold Sunshine
Jun 5, 2017 14:48:40 GMT
neonquincy1217 and Addy01 like this
Post by kkrazy256 on Jun 5, 2017 14:48:40 GMT
Title: Cold Sunshine
Words: 4,819
Summary: He knew he couldn’t keep doing this. It wasn’t fair to ask her to constantly reassure him, clueless to the fact that all his problems originate in him being the Kaitou Kid. Except, there’s the fact that Aoko is not oblivious, and Kaito isn’t as good at hiding things as he thinks he is.
Notes: A little follow up to the Sun Halo heist with Platonic KaiAo cuddles
Warning: Angst and Kaito's panic attack headcanon
Ao3 | FFnet
Kaito didn’t think it was possible for the wound to hurt more now than when he first felt the glass pierce through his flesh.
His forehead is damp, and his sweat smears the fabric of his pillows each time he shifts. He sounds as pathetic as he feels, soft pained moans escaping his lips when his unprofessionally bandaged hip presses against the blanket he’s thrown to the side.
He shouldn’t have taken Aoko on the little joyride. He belatedly scolds himself, throwing a hand over his eyes to block out the meager rays of moonlight peeking in through his blinds. His head throbs with the movement, and his breathing hitches as it corresponds with the pulsing on his side.
He had thought three days was enough for the half-assed stitches to heal. Aoko had been right there, helmet in hand with an expectant look on her face; how could he refused without getting caught? He shouldn’t have offered to give her a ride earlier, flaunting his motorcycle like some overly excited brat. God, he is so stupid. By mid-afternoon, he had felt the bandages grow damp, stitches stretched and leaking. He had made up some pathetic excuses to end their impromptu hang-out and spent the evening with a towel in his mouth, desperately trying to fix the stitches without ending up in a pile of his own gore.
He can’t. He pushes himself up gingerly, taking a shallow breath as his world spins briefly. He can’t deal with this anymore; it hurts too much. He slides off the edge of the bed, knuckles white as they immediately clench against his table-side drawers, arms shaking to steady himself. The room is too dark for him to navigate in his disoriented state.
He’s leaning against every single piece of furniture he can reach, slowly pushing himself towards the door. The bathroom, Kaito reminds himself, he needs to get to the bathroom. His forehead hits a hard surface and he nearly falls over when he catches the sight of his father’s still portrait eyes staring back at him.
“Shit…” His voice is shaky and he doesn’t like it. He presses one palm against his eyes hard enough to see patterns. The other hand immediately slides down to caress his wound as gently as he can manage.
Somehow, he ends up in the bathroom down the hall. The lights bring a searing pain, but he ignores it in favor of rummaging the cabinets. The blood stained towels, needle and thread are still littered across the tiles; he can’t bend down to clean even if he wanted to.
“Come on come on come on…hngh-!” He freezes, hunching over, breathing coming out ragged and strained as white hot flashes of agony shot through his body. His legs are shaking, and he presses his forehead against the cool surface of the mirror, shuddering.
The pill bottle in his hand falls to the ground, the cap popping off, but nothing fell out.
Empty.
He had used the last of it the first night he stumbled home, muttering deliriously to Jii on the phone. The older man had rushed over, finding him unconscious with his injury borderline infected. Kaito woke up to stitched wounds and the sight of his assistant pacing the floor, worried sick. With no doctor’s official prescriptions, he couldn’t get anything strong enough from a pharmacy. He had told Jii he was sturdy enough to fight it without his help or the help of any more drugs.
Clearly, he had overestimated how much he could handle.
“Damn it!” He smacks his head against the glass, a growl leaving his throat.
He stares at his reflection with a grimace. It looks like he had gone to fight death and barely escaped with his life. His eyes are haunted and unfocused, bruising bags underneath them – telling of three pain-filled nights without sleep. Combined with his sickly pallor, his cheeks look sunken and starved. He hasn’t had much of an appetite either.
He turns his head away, faintly disgusted.
He catches sight of his mother’s closed bedroom door in the mirror. Even since she started her world touring, he’s kept it closed. He can’t bear the sight of the empty king-sized bed both his parents have abandoned.
His trembling body stills as he stares at the door knob. He hasn’t been in there since the last time he went to dust off the furniture, but he remembers every detail. He remembers the collection of Chikage’s party dresses that he used to roll around in as a kid. He remembers the pack of cards he had gotten from Toichi for his seventh birthday. He remembers how they’re still sitting in the drawers because he can’t open them without panicking over the familiar smell of his dad’s cologne.
He remembers the small slip of paper taped to the bottom of his mother’s vanity table. The crinkled paper old with age, heavily inked with the phone numbers of people that hide in the shadows, their specialties written in both his mother and father’s handwritings. There is a hunger in Kaito’s eyes and he moves to stand. He could…he could…
No. He stops short, finding himself with his hand on the door knob. He flinches back, shaking his head. He isn’t going to stoop low enough to seek out a drug dealer. He…he…
“Ack–!” He jolts, his knees stinging as he crashes down on them hard. He can’t, but– he presses his head against the wood, breaths coming out in pants– it hurts. It hurts so much.
He’s better than this. He’s been shot at so many times, and this is what gets him? Some shards of glass and a crazy priestess with an incredulous motive? His dad never had to deal with this–
Because he’s better than you. He winces, curling on his uninjured side. Not now. Toichi never had to deal with this bullshit because he’s not an idiot who gets trapped and used. How many times have you been played like a puppet?
No, he clenches his eyes shut. He’s not dealing with this right now. Not now pleas–
Is that the legacy you want to give your father? The Kaitou Kid, a tool for others to use? Need to open a safe? Need a scapegoat? Let’s call the Kaitou Kid. He’s idiotic enough to catch. What a f*****g joke of an heir to the great Kuroba Toichi.
“Stop...” His tone defeated and desperate. His chest is tight and getting air is a challenge. Each wheezing breath causes his wound to seize up, creating an endless cycle of panic. He needs his medicine, but where? Where did he put it? Does he even have any left? What if he doesn’t? What will happen to him?
He reaches into pockets of his sweater, fumbling for his cell phone. The blue light illuminates his pale face, and he’s scrolling through his contacts. “Jii…Jii…Jii…” He repeats the name in order to remember his objective. He needs to swallow his pride and call–
“Kaito?”
He lets out a surprised squeak, yanking the phone away from his ear. Aoko’s name stared back at him traitorously. f**k.
“Kaito? This is you, right?”
He opens his mouth, no words gracing his silver tongue. It feels more like lead at this point, and he can’t stop himself from shaking.
“Um…hey.” He manages to croak out, his fingers clattering against the plastic of the phone nervously.
“It’s pretty late, is something wrong?”
He glances at the time. 00:47
“M-my bad, did I wake you?” Kaito can feel his heartbeat going fast and loud. He reaches up to grasp at his sweatshirt, hoping Aoko can’t hear the thudding of his anxious heart. He pushes himself to lean against the wall, barely keeping a pained groan in. The hallway is dark and he glances around, dread filling him.
“No,” He hears her yawn, “I just showered so I was planning to sleep soon.”
He clenches the cell phone, licking his lips. She isn’t even using third person to address herself anymore. That usually indicates how tired she is.
“…Kaito?”
“O-oh uh…nothing. I just hit my phone by accident. I-I’ll just…”
He hears her take a deep breath, and the hand fisted in his clothes clenches tighter.
“Really, it’s nothing.” He asserts, trying to convince himself more than her.
“Something’s wrong.”
Kaito can’t find the focus to decipher her tone, and he swallows.
“It’s…. nothing, I…I’m sorry I shouldn’t have called- “He moves to hang up.
“You’re panicking.” She interrupts sharply and he freezes, breathing unsteady and loud. She continues, gentler this time, “I know your breathing like my own.”
It’s a statement that neither of them can refute.
“….”
When he doesn’t answer, he hears her sigh.
“Please don’t lie to me.” Her voice is quiet and vaguely pleading. Kaito can’t breathe.
“…Can I come over?” His voice cracks but he doesn’t care.
There’s some shuffling on the other side, and for a brief second, he’s afraid she’ll reject him.
“Sure, I’ll turn the DVD player on.”
“Okay.”
“…I’ll see you in five?”
“Okay.”
He looks worse than he sounded on the phone, Aoko notes when she opens the door.
He’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt complemented with dark leggings, looking utterly small despite being taller than her. Aoko’s always been openly envious about how great he looks in any type of clothes, and Kaito’s always been openly smug about it.
But…she takes in the sight of his shaking frame, and the wild look in his eyes. Now isn’t the time for teasing.
She waves him in, and he shuffles forward, hesitant and awkward. It’s a common routine every time they had nights like these. He’d look out of place and nervous, even though Aoko’s house was practically a second home to him. She looks over at his house–lights off and empty–before closing the door. Perhaps maybe even his first home.
“What do you want to watch? I bought a few new ones lately. We can watch those?” She rattles off movie titles, never taking her eyes off of him. He’s not paying attention, but she doesn’t call him out on it. She waits until they reach the living room; she had already brought down pillows and blankets. Her movie collection is laid out on top of the coffee table.
“Where’s your dad?” He finally speaks as he takes a seat on the couch, his fingers digging through the DVDs.
“There’s a case.” She watches his hands stop, his eyes widening.
“A fraud case.” She elaborates, and doesn’t comment when Kaito relaxes just a fraction. “He’s not inspector of Division 2 for nothing.”
“Right….”
Aoko settles down next to him with a stretch. “Apparently, they were on a verge of a giant breakthrough when someone got murdered. He called me a few hours ago, something about Mouri Kogoro or something…” She hums under her breath when she hears Kaito let out a soft chuckle. She’s getting somewhere at least.
“Figures, that little grim reaper…” He murmurs before pushing one title away from the rest of the pile. “Can we watch this one?”
“Juno? We’ve seen it before, right?” She picks it up regardless, and moves to push it into the player.
“It’s a good movie.” He defends lightly, wringing his fingers together with a frown.
“It is.” She agrees, picking up the remote.
A beat up armchair appears on screen and words pop up in sync to the foreign audio.
“Turn the subtitles off?” He holds out his hand and she hands him the controller, sitting down. “I don’t want to think right now.”
“Sure.” She nods as he fidgets with the buttons. The words disappear and there’s only English voices.
Aoko watches him out of the corner of her eye. He’s sitting at the very edge of the couch, as far away as he could without risking falling off.
She sighs and scooches over with a pointed look. He stiffens, glancing at her warily and she’s reminded of the puppy they had both found ten years ago in the woods. It was lost, hurt and scared. It had taken them three days to get it to come forward to accept water and food. The weeks following were spent making lost posters, and taking the dog on adventures to defeat evil wizards. They had cried for days on end when Ginzo gave the dog back to the rightful owner.
“You want ice cream?” She asks when the sketch style opening credits roll on with an upbeat song.
Kaito slumps a bit, relieved for the relatively easy topic. “You still have some?”
“Yeah.” She’s already moving towards the kitchen. “I think we still have some from the last time we had movie night.” She pulls the carton from the freezer, glancing at the expiration date. Still good. She grabs two spoons before returning to the living room.
“When was that?” He takes the spoon and carton she hands him, pulling the lid off. He tilts it towards her.
“…. Last month?” She shrugs, sinking her spoon into the creamy coldness. He whistles.
“That’s a record.” He says without sounding impressed at all, and she rolls her eyes.
“You know Kaito, you can come over for movie night any time you want. It doesn’t have to just be when you’re lying on the ground in a puddle of your own tears.
It sounds excessively harsh, even to her own ears, but she’s only telling the truth. Kaito doesn’t seem to take offense; he just gives her a half-hearted glare before stabbing his own spoon into the ice cream.
“The same goes for you, Ahouko. How are you holding up after that whole heist fiasco?”
Aoko puts a hand against her hip, lips pursed. “I’m sturdier than you think, Kaito.” She leans back, sucking on the spoon. “If anything, I’d have to ask if Kid’s okay.” Kaito doesn’t flinch this time, and Aoko pushes on, “He was the one who looked like he was on death’s doors.”
He doesn’t comment further, and she stops trying as well. They both turn back to the screen, watching Juno walk into the store. Kaito’s spoon taps against the edge of the cartoon in a rhythm only he can understand, and Aoko finds herself focusing more on his never stopping hands than on the movie.
“That ain’t no Etch-a-Sketch. This is one doodle that can’t be undid, home skillet.” Rollo calls out as Juno grabs her things and darts out the door.
Kaito lets out a snort, wiping at his chocolate covered lips with his sleeves. “That never stops being funny.”
“Gross.” Aoko grimaces and smacks at his arm lightly. “I thought you didn’t want to understand it.”
Kaito places the empty carton on the coffee table, and Aoko shifts away, sitting back casually. He takes the invitation and moves to lie on his side, head on her lap. He does so slowly and gingerly. Aoko watches the way his hands twitch, yearning to touch his right hip.
“I don’t. That’s why I got rid of the subtitles.” He sighs, staring at the screen but not comprehending. “It’s all Hakuba’s fault. He’s been tutoring me in English. The nosy know-it-all. Now I can understand more than just bits and pieces.”
“Ohhh, so it’s going well for you two.” Aoko gives him a wicked grin and Kaito scowls.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh come on.” She pokes his cheek with a snicker. “I can see the sexual tension.” She cackles out loud when Kaito starts to sputter protests. “I bet you’ve already kissed. During a study session, like in all those animes? How’s his skills? The infamous British snogging– “
“Aoko you’re a gross little pervert!” He sputters, face warm. He sticks his tongue out and licks her exposed thigh, causing her to shriek.
“Stop it, BaKaito!” She smacks him on the head, causing them both to giggle uncontrollably. She clears her throat when Kaito started to wince with each breath he took.
“You definitely have a crush. He’s definitely your type.” Aoko declares it with a firm nod.
“Shut up! I’m never discussing my love life with you again.” He groans, rubbing at his eyes. “Besides, he’s not obsessed with me in that way.”
“I guess you’re right though.” She places her hand on his head, running it through his hair gently with a sigh. “Hakuba-kun talked to me during the whole debrief after that heist…he was gushing about Akako-chan the entire time.” She seems to deflate a bit, and Kaito flails.
“A-ah don’t worry about that, Aoko. That’s…. nothing substantial, it’s just a puppy crush. You’ve seen the rest of the guys in class…and in the school.”
“Yeah, but it’s crazy you know… It’s like everyone’s obsessed with Akako-chan. I finally convinced her to go on a movie date with me, and we ended up getting free tickets and snacks which isn’t terrible. Except, every guy in the vicinity was shoving their way into the theater, and I couldn’t even see the screen with all the creepy guys hanging around! They were practically breathing on us.” She huffs with a scowl and Kaito winces apologetically.
“And…. I’m trying really hard too, but…. I don’t think Akako-chan notices. Maybe I was hoping too much? I should just…”
“Aoko, I guarantee to you that Akako is bi as hell.” Kaito quickly cut in with a supportive look. “And if you’re not sure, you could just ask…although Akako does seem to be dense when it comes to these things.”
Aoko let out a snort at the comment. “I guess I’ll ask her next time…”
“Yup, and then she’ll finally realize what a badass my best friend is. Then you’ll go on a private picnic, all dressed up and romantic. You’ll finally get your paws on those red hot curls of hers.”
“Who’s the perverted one now?” Aoko hiss softly, face red with imagination and Kaito just laughs.
They relapse into a comfortable silence, watching Juno pull up to the gleaming mansion with her father.
“Vanessa always freaks me out at first.” Kaito comments, watching the woman on screen flit around the house, a nervous wreck.
“Oh please, and Mark wasn’t weird?”
“…Fair point.” Kaito shrugs, eyes glued to the screen. Aoko’s were glued to the boy lying across her legs. He looks tired, but less crazed than when he first walked in. His hands aren’t shaking anymore but they’re curled up against his abdomen. His face is still sickly pale, a sheen of sweat clinging to him.
“What was it this time?” She asks softly.
The question catches Kaito off guard, and suddenly the movie doesn’t matter anymore. He’s tense but he hopes Aoko doesn’t feel it. His mouth is dry, and he doesn’t know what to say. There are so many things he’s wants to say, but…he can’t. He can’t ask this of Aoko. It’s not her responsibility to listen to him whine about his Kid problems. Not when his Kid problems are the main reason for her troubles. But…movie night was honesty night…he always tells her the truth on these nights. But…when was the last time that’s happened? Ever since Kid happened, he’s been weaving so many lies, he can barely keep track of them. What can he tell her anymore that won’t ruin their fragile friendship? What was it this time, she asks? What was it–flashes of light, glinting off sharp glass–red–wet hot pain–can’t breathe– “Eyes open.” He blinks, keeping them open through the tears that are welling up.
“In one two three four…out one two three four…in one two three…”
He finds himself taking in a breath, choking on it before even reaching three. Shit he’s useless! He grits his teeth, feeling his panic starting to rise again.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Try again. In one two three four…”
His heart is pounding, and he screws up breathing a few more times before reaching a steady pace.
“Are you with me?”
It’s fuzzy but he hears sounds. There are flashes of color and it’s making him dizzy.
“You are here.”
He can’t open his mouth. He’s not sure if he’s nodding but he tries.
“You’re lying down.”
He is, he tries nodding again. He can feel the warmth of something soft. There is feeling in…his…yes his hands. The couch. It’s black, smooth, leather.
“You’re Kaito.”
That’s…that’s his name. Yes…
“I want you back with me, okay? I need you here.”
He gasps, blinking rapidly. He presses his sleeves against his eyes, feeling them sting. Juno’s sarcastic voice is back, and everything returns to him at a sluggish pace.
He looks up and meets dark blue eyes. Aoko.
“Aoko.” He says it out loud to confirm it and she nods. She holds out her hand and he grabs it, watching her slender fingers rub tiny circles on his knuckles.
“I’m okay.” He announces after a while, and Aoko nods, letting out a sigh of relief. Kaito flinches, thinking it a sigh of frustration.
“I’m sorry– “
“Kaito, it’s okay.” Aoko shakes her head, running her hands through his hair again.
“….” He closes his eyes, focusing on her gentle ministrations. He doesn’t deserve it.
“It hurts…. everything hurts.” He finally says, hoping he’s being vague enough while staying truthful.
“I want to be just like dad, but…it’s kill me.” His voice is low, barely audible. “I’m tired. There’s so much to do and I can’t…” He lifts his arms, making gestures, trying to put his overwhelming thoughts into words. “I don’t want to be used like…like…some kind of trick pony.” Exploited, a scapegoat. He can’t explain it coherently.
“I…I just…” He drops his arms back down, holding his injured side. “I just miss him so much.”
There’s a long pause, and he goes over his words several times. It was a load of nonsense; she shouldn’t be able to piece it back to Kid. But it’s the closest thing to what he is currently feeling.
His breath catches in this throat when Aoko finally opens her mouth.
“If…it hurts you, maybe it’s best if you stopped doing it.” Neither of them address what “it” is, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I can’t…my dad…”
“Kaito.” He looks up when she cups his face in her cold hands. “You don’t have to be who your dad was.”
She studies his wide eyes, watching the wet glint in them and feels her heart break. He looks so tired and small without the masks that he usually clings to.
“He wouldn’t want you to suffer like this. What do you want to do?”
Kaito inhales sharply, blinking rapidly. What does he want to do?
“Give up on being a thief and go to Las Vegas with me.” He remembers the last conversation he had with his mother many months ago–during that Corbeau mess that had him mentally screwed up for weeks. His mother had asked him something similar during that time, and he had the option…. but was it an option he gave himself or something his parents once again, pushed onto him?
“Kaito?”
His eyes are trained on hers, and he sees himself laughing with Aoko at the weird animals they find in the zoo. He sees himself giving Aoko the thumbs up when she gets Akako to hold her hand. He sees himself grinning like an idiot when he finally gets a kiss on the cheek from Hakuba. He sees himself hanging out with the rest of the Kid Capture Brigade over the weekend, being happy. He…
“I…want to be carefree again.” Kaito finally says, burying his face in Aoko’s lap. “I want to not give a shit. I want to live a normal high school life. I want…. I just want to be happy.”
“….”
He feels Aoko’s arms wrapping around him and he reaches up to hug her tightly. Her nose is pressed against his head and he breathes in the scent of her flowery body wash.
“I want you to be happy too, Kaito. We all do.” She whispers back, and he lets out a shuddering breath. Aoko feels her shirt grow damp, but doesn’t move a single muscle. And the comfortable atmosphere returns, peppered with Kaito’s soft sobs.
Her eyes eventually trail to look at the TV screen, still rolling through the scenes without a care for the drama happening in real life.
“She’s totally going to, like, steal that little kid for her collection.” Leah laughs, watching Vanessa play with the little girl.
“Oh hey, this is the best part of the movie.” Aoko smiles in sync with Juno.
She doesn’t receive a response. She glances down, taking in the sight of Kaito’s limp body leaning against hers, eyes closed. She shifts, gently letting him settle back on her lap. The bags under his eyes are still prominent, and his hands are pressed against his right side again, sweatshirt slightly lifted, showing pale skin.
Juno presses Vanessa’s hands against her stomach, urging her to speak to the infant.
Aoko’s own hands are hovering above the hem of the sweatshirt. She considers lifting it, knowing that if she does, there will be a blood soaked bandage wrapped around his hips tightly.
But she doesn’t.
Her hands move away from his waist and rest on his spiky hair, ruffling the strands in a calm manner, her focus back on the TV screen.
Nakamori Ginzo pulls his keys out of his pocket with a scowl, jamming it into the keyhole.
A murder happening during one of his biggest cases, of course that was just his luck. All because…he looks over his shoulder with a deep frown; Mouri Kogoro waves back with a sheepish smile. Ginzo looks down and sees the same expression mirrored on Edogawa Conan’s face. All because of this grim reaper of a man and his little gremlin freeloader.
“I’m letting you guys stay here tonight because it’s already 3:30 in the morning, but if EITHER of you wake my daughter up, you’re out.” He hisses, swinging the door open. “I mean it.” His voice softens, “She’s had a tough week.”
“Ah…I heard about the heist. That’s really bizarre.” Kogoro mumbles and Ginzo hums in agreement. He sets out a pair of slippers before digging through the shoe closet, pulling out a smaller pair that used to belong to a young Kaito.
Kogoro and Conan thank him softly, slipping them on before following him inside. Ginzo sees the soft glow of the television accompanied with music, frowning. He moves on ahead, peeking into the room, shoulders slumping with a sigh when he sees the scene before him.
He enters the room, picking up the remote to close the screen.
“You two could’ve brought the spoons to the sink at least.” He laughs softly, picking up the empty carton and the utensils. Kogoro gapes, watching Ginzo’s nonchalant reaction to seeing his daughter snuggled up to some boy. Conan is also staring, looking back and forth between both sleeping teens, unable to decide which one had him feeling more confused.
“Isn’t your daughter in high school? You okay with her cuddling up to strange brats?” Kogoro’s gesturing wildly at how intimate they both looked, huddled up in each other’s warmth, fitting together like puzzle pieces. “Hey doesn’t this kid look a lot like that detective bra- “
“Quiet!” Nakamori scowls, returning from the kitchen with a glare. He nudges Mouri away, reaching over to pull a blanket over the two of them.
“That’s Kaito-kun. He lives next door and has been my daughter’s best friend for a decade. He’s basically…” He pauses, taking in the sight of Kaito’s messy state, his heart clenching. “He’s practically a son to me.” He whispers, running a hand through his hair. He clears his throat, fixing the blanket around the two of them before standing, wincing at the creaking in his knees.
“They…they usually do this on bad nights. It…helps them both…especially since his mother’s not around that often…and neither am I.” He rubs at his neck uncomfortably, and he watches the other two look away as well.
“Well.” He coughs, catching their attention again. “Seems like you’re out of luck, the couch’s clearly taken.” He says with a barely concealed grin when Kogoro and the kid start sputtering indignantly.
“I kid I kid, Christ, you two are too easy to rile up.” He snickers under his breath, pushing them away from the couch. “There’s a guest room upstairs. I’ll go get you some clean sheets.”
Once he’s got the two going up the stairs, Ginzo turns around and gives Aoko and Kaito a long stare…a soft smile on his lips.
“Good night, kids”
He shut off the lights.
Words: 4,819
Summary: He knew he couldn’t keep doing this. It wasn’t fair to ask her to constantly reassure him, clueless to the fact that all his problems originate in him being the Kaitou Kid. Except, there’s the fact that Aoko is not oblivious, and Kaito isn’t as good at hiding things as he thinks he is.
Notes: A little follow up to the Sun Halo heist with Platonic KaiAo cuddles
Warning: Angst and Kaito's panic attack headcanon
Ao3 | FFnet
Kaito didn’t think it was possible for the wound to hurt more now than when he first felt the glass pierce through his flesh.
His forehead is damp, and his sweat smears the fabric of his pillows each time he shifts. He sounds as pathetic as he feels, soft pained moans escaping his lips when his unprofessionally bandaged hip presses against the blanket he’s thrown to the side.
He shouldn’t have taken Aoko on the little joyride. He belatedly scolds himself, throwing a hand over his eyes to block out the meager rays of moonlight peeking in through his blinds. His head throbs with the movement, and his breathing hitches as it corresponds with the pulsing on his side.
He had thought three days was enough for the half-assed stitches to heal. Aoko had been right there, helmet in hand with an expectant look on her face; how could he refused without getting caught? He shouldn’t have offered to give her a ride earlier, flaunting his motorcycle like some overly excited brat. God, he is so stupid. By mid-afternoon, he had felt the bandages grow damp, stitches stretched and leaking. He had made up some pathetic excuses to end their impromptu hang-out and spent the evening with a towel in his mouth, desperately trying to fix the stitches without ending up in a pile of his own gore.
He can’t. He pushes himself up gingerly, taking a shallow breath as his world spins briefly. He can’t deal with this anymore; it hurts too much. He slides off the edge of the bed, knuckles white as they immediately clench against his table-side drawers, arms shaking to steady himself. The room is too dark for him to navigate in his disoriented state.
He’s leaning against every single piece of furniture he can reach, slowly pushing himself towards the door. The bathroom, Kaito reminds himself, he needs to get to the bathroom. His forehead hits a hard surface and he nearly falls over when he catches the sight of his father’s still portrait eyes staring back at him.
“Shit…” His voice is shaky and he doesn’t like it. He presses one palm against his eyes hard enough to see patterns. The other hand immediately slides down to caress his wound as gently as he can manage.
Somehow, he ends up in the bathroom down the hall. The lights bring a searing pain, but he ignores it in favor of rummaging the cabinets. The blood stained towels, needle and thread are still littered across the tiles; he can’t bend down to clean even if he wanted to.
“Come on come on come on…hngh-!” He freezes, hunching over, breathing coming out ragged and strained as white hot flashes of agony shot through his body. His legs are shaking, and he presses his forehead against the cool surface of the mirror, shuddering.
The pill bottle in his hand falls to the ground, the cap popping off, but nothing fell out.
Empty.
He had used the last of it the first night he stumbled home, muttering deliriously to Jii on the phone. The older man had rushed over, finding him unconscious with his injury borderline infected. Kaito woke up to stitched wounds and the sight of his assistant pacing the floor, worried sick. With no doctor’s official prescriptions, he couldn’t get anything strong enough from a pharmacy. He had told Jii he was sturdy enough to fight it without his help or the help of any more drugs.
Clearly, he had overestimated how much he could handle.
“Damn it!” He smacks his head against the glass, a growl leaving his throat.
He stares at his reflection with a grimace. It looks like he had gone to fight death and barely escaped with his life. His eyes are haunted and unfocused, bruising bags underneath them – telling of three pain-filled nights without sleep. Combined with his sickly pallor, his cheeks look sunken and starved. He hasn’t had much of an appetite either.
He turns his head away, faintly disgusted.
He catches sight of his mother’s closed bedroom door in the mirror. Even since she started her world touring, he’s kept it closed. He can’t bear the sight of the empty king-sized bed both his parents have abandoned.
His trembling body stills as he stares at the door knob. He hasn’t been in there since the last time he went to dust off the furniture, but he remembers every detail. He remembers the collection of Chikage’s party dresses that he used to roll around in as a kid. He remembers the pack of cards he had gotten from Toichi for his seventh birthday. He remembers how they’re still sitting in the drawers because he can’t open them without panicking over the familiar smell of his dad’s cologne.
He remembers the small slip of paper taped to the bottom of his mother’s vanity table. The crinkled paper old with age, heavily inked with the phone numbers of people that hide in the shadows, their specialties written in both his mother and father’s handwritings. There is a hunger in Kaito’s eyes and he moves to stand. He could…he could…
No. He stops short, finding himself with his hand on the door knob. He flinches back, shaking his head. He isn’t going to stoop low enough to seek out a drug dealer. He…he…
“Ack–!” He jolts, his knees stinging as he crashes down on them hard. He can’t, but– he presses his head against the wood, breaths coming out in pants– it hurts. It hurts so much.
He’s better than this. He’s been shot at so many times, and this is what gets him? Some shards of glass and a crazy priestess with an incredulous motive? His dad never had to deal with this–
Because he’s better than you. He winces, curling on his uninjured side. Not now. Toichi never had to deal with this bullshit because he’s not an idiot who gets trapped and used. How many times have you been played like a puppet?
No, he clenches his eyes shut. He’s not dealing with this right now. Not now pleas–
Is that the legacy you want to give your father? The Kaitou Kid, a tool for others to use? Need to open a safe? Need a scapegoat? Let’s call the Kaitou Kid. He’s idiotic enough to catch. What a f*****g joke of an heir to the great Kuroba Toichi.
“Stop...” His tone defeated and desperate. His chest is tight and getting air is a challenge. Each wheezing breath causes his wound to seize up, creating an endless cycle of panic. He needs his medicine, but where? Where did he put it? Does he even have any left? What if he doesn’t? What will happen to him?
He reaches into pockets of his sweater, fumbling for his cell phone. The blue light illuminates his pale face, and he’s scrolling through his contacts. “Jii…Jii…Jii…” He repeats the name in order to remember his objective. He needs to swallow his pride and call–
“Kaito?”
He lets out a surprised squeak, yanking the phone away from his ear. Aoko’s name stared back at him traitorously. f**k.
“Kaito? This is you, right?”
He opens his mouth, no words gracing his silver tongue. It feels more like lead at this point, and he can’t stop himself from shaking.
“Um…hey.” He manages to croak out, his fingers clattering against the plastic of the phone nervously.
“It’s pretty late, is something wrong?”
He glances at the time. 00:47
“M-my bad, did I wake you?” Kaito can feel his heartbeat going fast and loud. He reaches up to grasp at his sweatshirt, hoping Aoko can’t hear the thudding of his anxious heart. He pushes himself to lean against the wall, barely keeping a pained groan in. The hallway is dark and he glances around, dread filling him.
“No,” He hears her yawn, “I just showered so I was planning to sleep soon.”
He clenches the cell phone, licking his lips. She isn’t even using third person to address herself anymore. That usually indicates how tired she is.
“…Kaito?”
“O-oh uh…nothing. I just hit my phone by accident. I-I’ll just…”
He hears her take a deep breath, and the hand fisted in his clothes clenches tighter.
“Really, it’s nothing.” He asserts, trying to convince himself more than her.
“Something’s wrong.”
Kaito can’t find the focus to decipher her tone, and he swallows.
“It’s…. nothing, I…I’m sorry I shouldn’t have called- “He moves to hang up.
“You’re panicking.” She interrupts sharply and he freezes, breathing unsteady and loud. She continues, gentler this time, “I know your breathing like my own.”
It’s a statement that neither of them can refute.
“….”
When he doesn’t answer, he hears her sigh.
“Please don’t lie to me.” Her voice is quiet and vaguely pleading. Kaito can’t breathe.
“…Can I come over?” His voice cracks but he doesn’t care.
There’s some shuffling on the other side, and for a brief second, he’s afraid she’ll reject him.
“Sure, I’ll turn the DVD player on.”
“Okay.”
“…I’ll see you in five?”
“Okay.”
He looks worse than he sounded on the phone, Aoko notes when she opens the door.
He’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt complemented with dark leggings, looking utterly small despite being taller than her. Aoko’s always been openly envious about how great he looks in any type of clothes, and Kaito’s always been openly smug about it.
But…she takes in the sight of his shaking frame, and the wild look in his eyes. Now isn’t the time for teasing.
She waves him in, and he shuffles forward, hesitant and awkward. It’s a common routine every time they had nights like these. He’d look out of place and nervous, even though Aoko’s house was practically a second home to him. She looks over at his house–lights off and empty–before closing the door. Perhaps maybe even his first home.
“What do you want to watch? I bought a few new ones lately. We can watch those?” She rattles off movie titles, never taking her eyes off of him. He’s not paying attention, but she doesn’t call him out on it. She waits until they reach the living room; she had already brought down pillows and blankets. Her movie collection is laid out on top of the coffee table.
“Where’s your dad?” He finally speaks as he takes a seat on the couch, his fingers digging through the DVDs.
“There’s a case.” She watches his hands stop, his eyes widening.
“A fraud case.” She elaborates, and doesn’t comment when Kaito relaxes just a fraction. “He’s not inspector of Division 2 for nothing.”
“Right….”
Aoko settles down next to him with a stretch. “Apparently, they were on a verge of a giant breakthrough when someone got murdered. He called me a few hours ago, something about Mouri Kogoro or something…” She hums under her breath when she hears Kaito let out a soft chuckle. She’s getting somewhere at least.
“Figures, that little grim reaper…” He murmurs before pushing one title away from the rest of the pile. “Can we watch this one?”
“Juno? We’ve seen it before, right?” She picks it up regardless, and moves to push it into the player.
“It’s a good movie.” He defends lightly, wringing his fingers together with a frown.
“It is.” She agrees, picking up the remote.
A beat up armchair appears on screen and words pop up in sync to the foreign audio.
“Turn the subtitles off?” He holds out his hand and she hands him the controller, sitting down. “I don’t want to think right now.”
“Sure.” She nods as he fidgets with the buttons. The words disappear and there’s only English voices.
Aoko watches him out of the corner of her eye. He’s sitting at the very edge of the couch, as far away as he could without risking falling off.
She sighs and scooches over with a pointed look. He stiffens, glancing at her warily and she’s reminded of the puppy they had both found ten years ago in the woods. It was lost, hurt and scared. It had taken them three days to get it to come forward to accept water and food. The weeks following were spent making lost posters, and taking the dog on adventures to defeat evil wizards. They had cried for days on end when Ginzo gave the dog back to the rightful owner.
“You want ice cream?” She asks when the sketch style opening credits roll on with an upbeat song.
Kaito slumps a bit, relieved for the relatively easy topic. “You still have some?”
“Yeah.” She’s already moving towards the kitchen. “I think we still have some from the last time we had movie night.” She pulls the carton from the freezer, glancing at the expiration date. Still good. She grabs two spoons before returning to the living room.
“When was that?” He takes the spoon and carton she hands him, pulling the lid off. He tilts it towards her.
“…. Last month?” She shrugs, sinking her spoon into the creamy coldness. He whistles.
“That’s a record.” He says without sounding impressed at all, and she rolls her eyes.
“You know Kaito, you can come over for movie night any time you want. It doesn’t have to just be when you’re lying on the ground in a puddle of your own tears.
It sounds excessively harsh, even to her own ears, but she’s only telling the truth. Kaito doesn’t seem to take offense; he just gives her a half-hearted glare before stabbing his own spoon into the ice cream.
“The same goes for you, Ahouko. How are you holding up after that whole heist fiasco?”
Aoko puts a hand against her hip, lips pursed. “I’m sturdier than you think, Kaito.” She leans back, sucking on the spoon. “If anything, I’d have to ask if Kid’s okay.” Kaito doesn’t flinch this time, and Aoko pushes on, “He was the one who looked like he was on death’s doors.”
He doesn’t comment further, and she stops trying as well. They both turn back to the screen, watching Juno walk into the store. Kaito’s spoon taps against the edge of the cartoon in a rhythm only he can understand, and Aoko finds herself focusing more on his never stopping hands than on the movie.
“That ain’t no Etch-a-Sketch. This is one doodle that can’t be undid, home skillet.” Rollo calls out as Juno grabs her things and darts out the door.
Kaito lets out a snort, wiping at his chocolate covered lips with his sleeves. “That never stops being funny.”
“Gross.” Aoko grimaces and smacks at his arm lightly. “I thought you didn’t want to understand it.”
Kaito places the empty carton on the coffee table, and Aoko shifts away, sitting back casually. He takes the invitation and moves to lie on his side, head on her lap. He does so slowly and gingerly. Aoko watches the way his hands twitch, yearning to touch his right hip.
“I don’t. That’s why I got rid of the subtitles.” He sighs, staring at the screen but not comprehending. “It’s all Hakuba’s fault. He’s been tutoring me in English. The nosy know-it-all. Now I can understand more than just bits and pieces.”
“Ohhh, so it’s going well for you two.” Aoko gives him a wicked grin and Kaito scowls.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh come on.” She pokes his cheek with a snicker. “I can see the sexual tension.” She cackles out loud when Kaito starts to sputter protests. “I bet you’ve already kissed. During a study session, like in all those animes? How’s his skills? The infamous British snogging– “
“Aoko you’re a gross little pervert!” He sputters, face warm. He sticks his tongue out and licks her exposed thigh, causing her to shriek.
“Stop it, BaKaito!” She smacks him on the head, causing them both to giggle uncontrollably. She clears her throat when Kaito started to wince with each breath he took.
“You definitely have a crush. He’s definitely your type.” Aoko declares it with a firm nod.
“Shut up! I’m never discussing my love life with you again.” He groans, rubbing at his eyes. “Besides, he’s not obsessed with me in that way.”
“I guess you’re right though.” She places her hand on his head, running it through his hair gently with a sigh. “Hakuba-kun talked to me during the whole debrief after that heist…he was gushing about Akako-chan the entire time.” She seems to deflate a bit, and Kaito flails.
“A-ah don’t worry about that, Aoko. That’s…. nothing substantial, it’s just a puppy crush. You’ve seen the rest of the guys in class…and in the school.”
“Yeah, but it’s crazy you know… It’s like everyone’s obsessed with Akako-chan. I finally convinced her to go on a movie date with me, and we ended up getting free tickets and snacks which isn’t terrible. Except, every guy in the vicinity was shoving their way into the theater, and I couldn’t even see the screen with all the creepy guys hanging around! They were practically breathing on us.” She huffs with a scowl and Kaito winces apologetically.
“And…. I’m trying really hard too, but…. I don’t think Akako-chan notices. Maybe I was hoping too much? I should just…”
“Aoko, I guarantee to you that Akako is bi as hell.” Kaito quickly cut in with a supportive look. “And if you’re not sure, you could just ask…although Akako does seem to be dense when it comes to these things.”
Aoko let out a snort at the comment. “I guess I’ll ask her next time…”
“Yup, and then she’ll finally realize what a badass my best friend is. Then you’ll go on a private picnic, all dressed up and romantic. You’ll finally get your paws on those red hot curls of hers.”
“Who’s the perverted one now?” Aoko hiss softly, face red with imagination and Kaito just laughs.
They relapse into a comfortable silence, watching Juno pull up to the gleaming mansion with her father.
“Vanessa always freaks me out at first.” Kaito comments, watching the woman on screen flit around the house, a nervous wreck.
“Oh please, and Mark wasn’t weird?”
“…Fair point.” Kaito shrugs, eyes glued to the screen. Aoko’s were glued to the boy lying across her legs. He looks tired, but less crazed than when he first walked in. His hands aren’t shaking anymore but they’re curled up against his abdomen. His face is still sickly pale, a sheen of sweat clinging to him.
“What was it this time?” She asks softly.
The question catches Kaito off guard, and suddenly the movie doesn’t matter anymore. He’s tense but he hopes Aoko doesn’t feel it. His mouth is dry, and he doesn’t know what to say. There are so many things he’s wants to say, but…he can’t. He can’t ask this of Aoko. It’s not her responsibility to listen to him whine about his Kid problems. Not when his Kid problems are the main reason for her troubles. But…movie night was honesty night…he always tells her the truth on these nights. But…when was the last time that’s happened? Ever since Kid happened, he’s been weaving so many lies, he can barely keep track of them. What can he tell her anymore that won’t ruin their fragile friendship? What was it this time, she asks? What was it–flashes of light, glinting off sharp glass–red–wet hot pain–can’t breathe– “Eyes open.” He blinks, keeping them open through the tears that are welling up.
“In one two three four…out one two three four…in one two three…”
He finds himself taking in a breath, choking on it before even reaching three. Shit he’s useless! He grits his teeth, feeling his panic starting to rise again.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Try again. In one two three four…”
His heart is pounding, and he screws up breathing a few more times before reaching a steady pace.
“Are you with me?”
It’s fuzzy but he hears sounds. There are flashes of color and it’s making him dizzy.
“You are here.”
He can’t open his mouth. He’s not sure if he’s nodding but he tries.
“You’re lying down.”
He is, he tries nodding again. He can feel the warmth of something soft. There is feeling in…his…yes his hands. The couch. It’s black, smooth, leather.
“You’re Kaito.”
That’s…that’s his name. Yes…
“I want you back with me, okay? I need you here.”
He gasps, blinking rapidly. He presses his sleeves against his eyes, feeling them sting. Juno’s sarcastic voice is back, and everything returns to him at a sluggish pace.
He looks up and meets dark blue eyes. Aoko.
“Aoko.” He says it out loud to confirm it and she nods. She holds out her hand and he grabs it, watching her slender fingers rub tiny circles on his knuckles.
“I’m okay.” He announces after a while, and Aoko nods, letting out a sigh of relief. Kaito flinches, thinking it a sigh of frustration.
“I’m sorry– “
“Kaito, it’s okay.” Aoko shakes her head, running her hands through his hair again.
“….” He closes his eyes, focusing on her gentle ministrations. He doesn’t deserve it.
“It hurts…. everything hurts.” He finally says, hoping he’s being vague enough while staying truthful.
“I want to be just like dad, but…it’s kill me.” His voice is low, barely audible. “I’m tired. There’s so much to do and I can’t…” He lifts his arms, making gestures, trying to put his overwhelming thoughts into words. “I don’t want to be used like…like…some kind of trick pony.” Exploited, a scapegoat. He can’t explain it coherently.
“I…I just…” He drops his arms back down, holding his injured side. “I just miss him so much.”
There’s a long pause, and he goes over his words several times. It was a load of nonsense; she shouldn’t be able to piece it back to Kid. But it’s the closest thing to what he is currently feeling.
His breath catches in this throat when Aoko finally opens her mouth.
“If…it hurts you, maybe it’s best if you stopped doing it.” Neither of them address what “it” is, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I can’t…my dad…”
“Kaito.” He looks up when she cups his face in her cold hands. “You don’t have to be who your dad was.”
She studies his wide eyes, watching the wet glint in them and feels her heart break. He looks so tired and small without the masks that he usually clings to.
“He wouldn’t want you to suffer like this. What do you want to do?”
Kaito inhales sharply, blinking rapidly. What does he want to do?
“Give up on being a thief and go to Las Vegas with me.” He remembers the last conversation he had with his mother many months ago–during that Corbeau mess that had him mentally screwed up for weeks. His mother had asked him something similar during that time, and he had the option…. but was it an option he gave himself or something his parents once again, pushed onto him?
“Kaito?”
His eyes are trained on hers, and he sees himself laughing with Aoko at the weird animals they find in the zoo. He sees himself giving Aoko the thumbs up when she gets Akako to hold her hand. He sees himself grinning like an idiot when he finally gets a kiss on the cheek from Hakuba. He sees himself hanging out with the rest of the Kid Capture Brigade over the weekend, being happy. He…
“I…want to be carefree again.” Kaito finally says, burying his face in Aoko’s lap. “I want to not give a shit. I want to live a normal high school life. I want…. I just want to be happy.”
“….”
He feels Aoko’s arms wrapping around him and he reaches up to hug her tightly. Her nose is pressed against his head and he breathes in the scent of her flowery body wash.
“I want you to be happy too, Kaito. We all do.” She whispers back, and he lets out a shuddering breath. Aoko feels her shirt grow damp, but doesn’t move a single muscle. And the comfortable atmosphere returns, peppered with Kaito’s soft sobs.
Her eyes eventually trail to look at the TV screen, still rolling through the scenes without a care for the drama happening in real life.
“She’s totally going to, like, steal that little kid for her collection.” Leah laughs, watching Vanessa play with the little girl.
“Oh hey, this is the best part of the movie.” Aoko smiles in sync with Juno.
She doesn’t receive a response. She glances down, taking in the sight of Kaito’s limp body leaning against hers, eyes closed. She shifts, gently letting him settle back on her lap. The bags under his eyes are still prominent, and his hands are pressed against his right side again, sweatshirt slightly lifted, showing pale skin.
Juno presses Vanessa’s hands against her stomach, urging her to speak to the infant.
Aoko’s own hands are hovering above the hem of the sweatshirt. She considers lifting it, knowing that if she does, there will be a blood soaked bandage wrapped around his hips tightly.
But she doesn’t.
Her hands move away from his waist and rest on his spiky hair, ruffling the strands in a calm manner, her focus back on the TV screen.
Nakamori Ginzo pulls his keys out of his pocket with a scowl, jamming it into the keyhole.
A murder happening during one of his biggest cases, of course that was just his luck. All because…he looks over his shoulder with a deep frown; Mouri Kogoro waves back with a sheepish smile. Ginzo looks down and sees the same expression mirrored on Edogawa Conan’s face. All because of this grim reaper of a man and his little gremlin freeloader.
“I’m letting you guys stay here tonight because it’s already 3:30 in the morning, but if EITHER of you wake my daughter up, you’re out.” He hisses, swinging the door open. “I mean it.” His voice softens, “She’s had a tough week.”
“Ah…I heard about the heist. That’s really bizarre.” Kogoro mumbles and Ginzo hums in agreement. He sets out a pair of slippers before digging through the shoe closet, pulling out a smaller pair that used to belong to a young Kaito.
Kogoro and Conan thank him softly, slipping them on before following him inside. Ginzo sees the soft glow of the television accompanied with music, frowning. He moves on ahead, peeking into the room, shoulders slumping with a sigh when he sees the scene before him.
He enters the room, picking up the remote to close the screen.
“You two could’ve brought the spoons to the sink at least.” He laughs softly, picking up the empty carton and the utensils. Kogoro gapes, watching Ginzo’s nonchalant reaction to seeing his daughter snuggled up to some boy. Conan is also staring, looking back and forth between both sleeping teens, unable to decide which one had him feeling more confused.
“Isn’t your daughter in high school? You okay with her cuddling up to strange brats?” Kogoro’s gesturing wildly at how intimate they both looked, huddled up in each other’s warmth, fitting together like puzzle pieces. “Hey doesn’t this kid look a lot like that detective bra- “
“Quiet!” Nakamori scowls, returning from the kitchen with a glare. He nudges Mouri away, reaching over to pull a blanket over the two of them.
“That’s Kaito-kun. He lives next door and has been my daughter’s best friend for a decade. He’s basically…” He pauses, taking in the sight of Kaito’s messy state, his heart clenching. “He’s practically a son to me.” He whispers, running a hand through his hair. He clears his throat, fixing the blanket around the two of them before standing, wincing at the creaking in his knees.
“They…they usually do this on bad nights. It…helps them both…especially since his mother’s not around that often…and neither am I.” He rubs at his neck uncomfortably, and he watches the other two look away as well.
“Well.” He coughs, catching their attention again. “Seems like you’re out of luck, the couch’s clearly taken.” He says with a barely concealed grin when Kogoro and the kid start sputtering indignantly.
“I kid I kid, Christ, you two are too easy to rile up.” He snickers under his breath, pushing them away from the couch. “There’s a guest room upstairs. I’ll go get you some clean sheets.”
Once he’s got the two going up the stairs, Ginzo turns around and gives Aoko and Kaito a long stare…a soft smile on his lips.
“Good night, kids”
He shut off the lights.