Post by Cesela on Feb 4, 2017 17:28:35 GMT
Summary: A case of mistaken identity, a basket of peaches and misunderstandings.
Wordcount: 1080
Written for Poirot Café Super short challenge #18: Peaches. The Peach Craving Paradox
Unbetaed
...
When Kudou Shinichi had gone to the market that morning, he had not expected to have his path blocked by a fruit vendor with a large, friendly smile and gotten a basket filled with peaches thrusted into his arms before he could open his mouth to greet the man.
The owner was a short man wearing a yellow straw hat – most likely in order to hide a balding patch, in his mid-fifties with his belt laying snug around his waist. “Those cravings again, ey?” the seller said, patted his arm and left a moment later with a cryptical: “It’s on the house today, for my best customer.”
The whole incident had happened so quickly, that Shinichi had never gotten the chance to rectify the kind man that it was a case of mistaken identity. He considered for a moment whether or not to keep the peaches, before balancing the basket with one hand and fished up his wallet from the pocket with the other. He dropped a thousand yen bill on the table – he would just have to take the chance that no one came by and stole the money – and turned to leave.
Only to have a different person block his path with a large smile and a chuckle. “You have the same problem I see?” This time it was a man in his mid-twenties, with messy hair and indigo eyes. He seemed friendly enough, expect for a slight tension of his shoulder as he peered at the detective through his eyelashes. The feeling of familiarity flashed immediately, however Shinichi could not place the hunch. When the detective did not respond immediately, the stranger’s smile dropped a shade. “Peaches I mean.”
“Peaches,” Shinichi parroted, trying to keep the confusion bubbling in his chest from showing. First the fruit vendor, and now this person? He had the distinct feeling he was missing something important related to the peaches.
When the detective did not look inclined to continue, the stranger’s smile dropped completely and he stepped forwards with a nervous expression and panic flashing in his eyes. His shoulders twitched in nervousness as he seemed to be ready to flee or fight. The whole ordeal confused Shinichi even more.
“I was hoping it wasn’t the case. Thank you for not doing it at the house, at least get the peaches to Aoko? For everything we’ve been through together, I beg you.” The voice was filled with sincerity despite the stiffness of his body, and there was a hint of regret yet acceptance in his eyes that told Shinichi that he would not make a fuzz.
Which would have been a good thing, had Shinichi still not been completely lost as to what was happening. He shifted his weight for a moment, eyes wandering up and down the figure standing in front of him hoping for a clue. Something tickled his memory again, but that might simply be just from the fact they had eerily similar facial features. This must be the man the fruit vendor mistook my identity for, Shinichi thought silently, but was the stranger confusing the detective with someone else?
At loss at anything else to do, and entirely too baffled to come up with anything to say – and felt uncomfortable not knowing what was going on. The possibilities was racing in his head, and seeing as he did not know whether the cryptic word of the man originated from sinister or not happenstances – he did the first thing that came to mind, which was thrusting the basket of fruit into the stranger’s man’s arm with a murmur of: “Why don’t you give the peaches to Aoko yourself.”
It seemed to be the right choice, cause a look of relief flashed across the stranger’s face as he accepted it with gratitude. For a moment it looked as though he would hug Shinichi – and he was relieved when the man didn’t, seeing as the detective was still at loss on how accepting a basket of fruit had landed him into such a peculiar situation. He parted his lips to apologize and to rectify the misunderstanding between them – Shinichi was starting to feel really uncomfortable – when his companion spoke anew.
“I knew you weren’t such a stick in the mud after all, Meitantei,” Shinichi’s stomach did an involuntarily stomach roll as the familiar name rolled off the man’s lips, “I wasn’t entirely sure if you’d incarcerate me or not if you figured out my real identity. I thought you were here to arrest me,” he grinned, all nervousness had drained out of his shoulders. “Thank for getting me the peaches as an olive branch: its just what Aoko is craving these days.”
The detective was still stuck on the revelation that a basket of fruit had somehow led him to meet the civilian persona of Kaitou KID, that it took him a few seconds to put together the dots of cravings, peaches and Aoko. “Congratulation with the baby,” he replied on auto-pilot, and KID beamed at him in response like a proud father.
“You and Ran should come over next week, I’m sure Aoko and Ran would go splendidly together,” the magician seemed to forgotten all about the edginess of a few minutes prior, and years of rivalry in a span of seconds – seeming to have come to the conclusion that the detective was the one offering to leave the animosity of the past behind and come friends.
Shinichi did not have the heart to refuse the proposal. “We’d love to.”
When Kaitou KID left moments later with a relieved skip in his step and a smile, the detective was left staring after him – trying not to gawk – with the feeling of astonishment curling in his chest at the baffling event that had just transpired. All he had planned to do that morning was buying a carton of milk, which had somehow turned into a dinner invitation from a retired international phantom thief. Furthermore, he had been entirely too embarrassed to ask KID about his civilian name – seeing as he had never felt a strong urge to track the thief down in the past. It had all been forgotten in the magician’s assumption that the detective already knew and had simply shown up to ambush him.
This left Shinichi with five days to discover Kaitou KID’s true identity before the dinner. He had never back down from a challenge. Especially when his repetition as a Master Detective was on the line.