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Into the Heart of Eternity

Summary:

The chill of the morgue's cold room haunts Shinichi. Driven to search for the cause of his miraculous survival, Shinichi faces off against Kid in his own territory, becoming a phantom thief. Kid isn't happy. As long as Kid doesn't get caught in the crossfire, Shinichi doesn't care.

But hunted by men in black, they aren't given a choice.

Notes:

Buckle up boys, it’s a big one. Posting each arc separately because 60k+ at once is a little much.

Acknowledgements: I want to thank Chii for such beautiful, incredible art and the god-tier prompt that inspired this monster. It was an absolute pleasure working with you; Kir for being relentless in your cheering and support, couldn’t have done it without you, sweetheart; Cat for listening to me ramble and attempt to put this mess into something workable (and for the pick me ups 😏); and last but not least, Kiwili, for being a most excellent plot beta, whom without which this story wouldn’t exist in its current form. Thank you all.

 

fic banner displaying a heart-cut jewel dripping with blood on a dark background

Art Masterpost by Chiikichai

Chapter 1: The Rebirth of Solitude

Chapter Text

[1]

Shinichi gasped. Everything hurt. The wound on his chest pulsed with his heartbeat; he coughed, and blood flew from his mouth as he spat out a clot on top of the rubble and debris from the destroyed building. The weight pressed against his chest; he didn’t think the bullet made it through. He couldn’t breathe; he drew in air with great heaving gasps, and he was still smothering, smothering.

He stuffed part of his handkerchief in the hole left by the gunshot, grabbed a piece of rebar, and dragged himself forward inch by painstaking inch. His arms and legs were numb, tingling; it was hard to move, he was losing strength fast.

The asphalt below him was hard and hot; it burned where his bare skin made contact with the pavement.

Still, Shinichi dragged himself on.

The crunch of gravel and the fading figure of a silver-haired man in black: Gin had shot him down, one hit straight in the chest, and had left him to die.

Frantic voices called him over the radio. Shinichi didn’t have the breath to respond, not with his lung leaking air. The explosion had knocked his mobile from his hands, it was within reach. Broken, but the transmitter that Doctor Agasa had put on it for emergencies still worked, Shinichi could see the flashing light.

If he could just reach—

He coughed again, dizzy, his sight growing dim. It was only a meter or so away, but it might as well have been a kilometer. His fingers scrabbled at the hot asphalt, burning him dully, but he was growing so very cold.

His nails bled, he could no longer grip properly, but Shinichi didn’t want to think about what would happen if he just let himself rest.

A trail of bright red blood streaked behind him, a crimson line of warning about the severity of his wounds, but Shinichi didn’t want to think about that either.

The phone. He had to get to the phone.

Shinichi couldn’t feel his legs. The dead tingle had diminished into no sensation at all.

The phone—

-

Shinichi awoke freezing and in a great deal of pain, still finding it difficult to breathe. It was so dark. He reached up and encountered rough plastic, plastic that he realized was under his back, too. In fact, as he probed around himself, it seemed to surround him on all sides.

Surely the hospital wouldn’t have—

A dark thought wound its way through his brain. He tried to blink it back, twitched his foot, and had a cardboard tag on his toe.

Well, alright then.

Shinichi swallowed the rising panic. That explained the cold. And the plastic. He took slow, deep breaths. No autopsy, because the cause of death was clear, and it was likely he was still alive only because they were keeping him in the mortuary until his parents could witness his cremation.

Shinichi let out a slow breath. Both of those had saved him for sure.

Air puffed out from somewhere; Shinichi reached down, wincing when he came in contact with the gunshot wound, only to find it crusted with a thick scab. It was healing slowly. Yet it still gaped open; it hadn’t been treated at all, and that’s why he was still finding it so difficult to breathe.

What?

Every time he breathed, air escaped. It hurt like hell, his lung was likely still collapsed, but he wasn’t dead and it wasn’t killing him.

What the hell was happening to him?

No time to think about it now. He had to get out of here. He reached up, despite the terrible ache, to the top of the bag, hooked his finger in the small gap between the zipper and the top of the bag, and pulled it down. The motion hurt his ruined fingertips, but it was negligible pain compared to his chest.

The light blinded him for a second, and he blinked blearily up at the fluorescent lights. He sat up, once the light had cleared, and found himself in a cold room, one he’d been inside before on a rare occasion accompanying Inspector Megure. The Beika Mortuary and Crematorium.

He could breathe a bit better outside the suffocating enclosure of the bag. They’d couched his body in the corner next to the body freezers, and Shinichi wasn’t the only spill-over left on the tables. The building that served as the front for the Black Organization’s activities held many employees that weren’t aware of the nefarious nature of their employers, and more than a few had been caught in the crossfire when the building exploded.

A tickle at the back of his throat and he coughed into his hand. A chunk of viscera, most likely from his collapsed lung.

That...was also something that happened now. Okay. Likely his body ejecting the dead tissue. If that was the case, then it seemed his body was actively repairing itself. Okay. Alright. Fine. Shinichi could work with that. He put a hand over his chest, and immediately his breathing eased as his hand formed a seal over the hole.

It hit him, then. He’d died. He’d been dead enough to be pronounced so and make it to cold storage. He shouldn’t have survived.

Shinichi took a deep breath. Alright then. Priorities. He’d likely been pronounced dead, so he had the freedom to move. He could use that. He unzipped the rest of the bag with his clean hand, then crawled off the table. Thankfully, his legs held him when his feet hit the floor.

Clothes, clothes...right, the lockers for the employees outside the mortician’s office might have a change of clothes. He walked slowly through the cold room, steadfastly ignoring the crematorium nearby, down a short hall, and found the lockers and change room and thankfully an old sink. Shinichi turned it on with a squeak, gasping as his hand left the hole, and let the bit of lung wash down the drain with the blood. He rifled through the lockers and found nothing but spare clothing; oversized turtleneck and a pencil skirt and a lab coat.

Not ideal, but it would do.

He dressed himself, then looked in the mirror. He was extremely pale, his lips near blue. His face was bloodless; he looked like a corpse.

In all fairness, he had been.

Taking as deep a breath as he could manage, he ran his fingers through his hair and made himself as presentable as possible, grabbed the spare ID card that was in the lab coat, and quietly made his way out of the lab building, stopping only in the back room to delete the surveillance footage.

Shinichi stepped out into the sun, casting a wary eye over the surroundings. It was early morning, not many people were out, and thankfully no one paid him much attention.

However, Shinichi still had one problem; he had nowhere to go.

Not to his parents. He couldn’t possibly put them through that again. Not if they already thought he was dead. Not Ran, not Sonoko. Not Hattori either, he couldn't do that to any of them.

Haibara, who lived under the same shadow Shinichi had for so long. Haibara, who’d designed the drug and the antidote Shinichi was beginning to suspect had something to do with this.

‘A nostrum to raise the dead,’ she’d said once. Patent medicine. An alleged cure with no scientific evidence behind it.

In other words, the APTX 4869.

Still haunting him, even now.

She'd moved out of the professor's house and into her own place, once she'd returned to herself, and that benefited him now. She was close to Ayumi's neighborhood, but Shinichi wouldn't meet anyone else he knew.

Haibara's it was. If anyone knew how to help, it would be her. If anyone had answers, it would be her. And the sooner the better, too. Shinichi’s clothes were respectable enough from a distance, but he wasn’t wearing shoes, and once people came closer it would be easy to see that Shinichi didn’t quite fill them up the way he needed to.

The pavement hurt his feet, but it was negligible pain in comparison to the wound on his chest. He was just lucky he could move. Lucky he’d made it before he’d been burned alive (a dark and idle part of his brain wondered too, if he could come back from even that).

He limped on, pressure on his chest easing off just a little.

Finally he reached her apartment complex, letting himself in with the passcode she’d given him herself. He traipsed up the stairs and knocked, very nearly at the end of his endurance once again.

He leaned heavily on the door facing, literally bloodless and sweating, shaky from the exercise, and ferociously hungry.

Movement from the inside; the door swung open inwards, and Shinichi came face to face with a stunned Miyano Shiho in a tracksuit. She took only a second to act, grabbing her can of mace from the console table in the entryway and loading his eyes full of it.

Shinichi cursed, took a step back, clutching at his eyes with ruined hands, and Haibara hit him over the head with a shoe.

“Haibara,” Shinichi gasped through the pain, “Haibara, it’s me!” he said as she hit him again, then threw the shoe at him as he staggered around.

The light sound of her bare feet. The pain in his eyes still wasn't as bad as the pain in his chest.

She hit him on the head with another shoe.

"Haibara, please," Shinichi begged.

For some reason, she listened. "How do I know it's you, Kudō-kun?"

His mind blanked. "Curry powder," he said.

She pinched his face, and that was enough.

He heard a thump as she fell to her knees. She wrapped her arms around him. "How?" she asked, and her voice sounded wet. Shinichi reached up and felt tears when his hand bumped her cheek.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice rough and full of pain. “You tell me. I woke up in a body bag,” he said, a mad-sounding edge to it.

“Here,” she said, grabbing hold of his arm, and he followed her lead as they navigated through her small apartment and she sat him down on the sofa.

Then he heard her walk away. Shinichi tilted his head, her footsteps growing distant, and he heard the sound of running water. Her steps grew closer again, and water sloshed in a bowl, and Haibara touched his face with a wet cloth. He flinched back, not expecting it. She cleaned his teary eyes twice. He tried to open them, but the pain kept them shut.

“I apologize for macing you,” she said.

“It’s fine,” Shinichi said. As fine as he could be with a collapsed lung and capsicum in his eyes. “I wouldn’t have thought it was me either.”

“You said you woke up in a body bag?”

“In cold storage at the morgue,” Shinichi said. He shrugged off the lab coat, tugged the turtleneck over his head, and knew she’d seen the wound in his chest when she gasped.

“Kudō-kun…” she said.

“I died, Haibara,” he said. “I was cold on that table. It wasn’t a mistake, or an accident. They didn't miss a pulse. I was dead.” He tried again to open his eyes, and finally managed it. She was sitting down next to him on the sofa. Her tears had caused her mascara to run. It was a strange look for her.

She reached out to touch his wound, hesitated, then reached out again. "Kudō-kun. You shouldn't be alive."

He laughed at her stating the obvious. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Did you suffocate or bleed out?" she said, her fingers ghosting across his injury.

"I think I bled out," Shinichi said. "And air was escaping from a collapsed lung, it only just closed on the way here." At least, less air was escaping. Shinichi wasn’t sure if that meant it was closed or not.

"A mortal wound," she said. "And you came back from it," she said in wonder. She sounded fascinated. Almost eager.

“The magic silver bullet…” she said.

“Silver bullet?” Shinichi asked. The words sent a chill down his spine.

“Yes. In medicine, it refers to something that can heal with little to no side effects. My research for new compounds always led to rumors of immortality." She laughed bitterly. "Coupled with the cure, it seems you have indeed found immortality.”

Shinichi crossed his arms, hunching in on himself. “But I died!”

Haibara crossed her legs, reaching up to stroke her chin. “Immortality doesn’t mean invulnerability. It seems you have the capacity to get wounded or die, but that your death isn't permanent. I had theorized as such when I was doing my research on the perfect magic bullet.”

“Why am I only hearing about it now?” Shinichi asked, leaning back against the sofa and fixing her with a glare.

Haibara was unfazed. “You have your own secrets,” Haibara said, “and your own reasons for keeping them secret. I didn’t think it prudent to bother you until I had factual evidence. It was only a theory, based on the hypothetical research behind the apotoxin.”

“Which was?” Shinichi tapped his sore fingers on his arm expectantly.

She hummed. “Project Aeternum. I thought it was a load of rubbish, but it seems very much like there’s something behind all that now.”

“Aeternum?” That was certainly the first Shinichi was hearing of it.

“Rumors of immortality, or of things that could provide immortality.” Haibara bit her lip, uncrossed her legs. “I chased them everywhere. The lapis philosophorum in the mountains of Italy, battle sites in Greece, hidden tombs in Egypt, a small village in rural Japan with rumors of mermaids, dozens of less credible leads, but none of them had any truth to them.

“However, when that research didn’t pan out, Vermouth provided me with a flask of sorts, filled with a chemical of uncertain make she called Aeterna, and it was upon that basis I built the first steps of what would then be the APTX.” She took a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly. “The chemical structure made sense; it could be used to stop telophase, but it mutated the cells beyond control; because of the rapid apoptosis, I called that variant apotoxin.

“But in your case, and mine, it reversed them. That’s how you ended up shrinking instead of dying, because of a specific mutation of the cells. It was not deaging in the strictest sense, it didn’t reverse time. It only manipulated your body on the cellular level alongside a preset genetic path.”

Shinichi thought he followed. “And what does that have to do with me now?”

“The antidote, in order for it to work, had to work along the same lines. Infinite cell division. No cell decay. That had to be done in order for your cells not to rapidly divide and decay and kill you. But it seems it had another side effect.”

“Immortality?” Shinichi shook his head.

“It’s not immortality in the strictest sense.” She paused and considered her statement for a long moment, tapping her finger on her lip. “At least, I don’t think so. I will have to get a sample of cells under the microscope, but I believe that unrestricted cellular division in a controlled way is the reason. You heal too fast to die, and yet, too slowly to do so without complications. Hence why they declared you dead.”

“You once called it ‘a nostrum to raise the dead.’” Shinichi said.

“Yes,” Haibara replied.

“Doesn’t look like fake medicine to me.”

“I had not thought this would actually be an outcome, no.” She fidgeted, jiggling her leg. “It was merely what they asked me to do.”

Shinichi shifted uncomfortably. “So what does that mean for me?”

“It means you are very, very lucky Kudō-kun,” Haibara said. Her face was calm, but Shinichi noticed she was twisting her hands, belying her anxiety.

“You took the cure too,” Shinichi observed.

Haibara nodded. “Yes.” She looked away. “My version of the apotoxin...It was a different strain. A better one, or so I thought. It never sat right with me, that I couldn’t determine the origins or the chemical make of the compound Aeterna. Eventually I figured a work around, but you have the Aeterna strain.”

"So where did it come from, this Aeterna substance?" He leaned forward, linking his hands together.

"I don't know." But her hands twisted around the hem of her light coat, and Shinichi knew she had more to say.

"Stop hiding things from me, Haibara."

"That's rich, coming from you. All those things you kept to yourself."

"On your direction," he said.

"Only because you're such a reckless fool." She laughed, but it was teary. "You put the rest of us through such terrible trouble."

"Haibara—"

"I don't exactly know. But there are rumors even the higher ups didn't manage to keep quiet about the source. Pandora."

"Pandora?" It sounded vaguely familiar, but Shinichi couldn't remember exactly, as foggy as his mind felt, clouded with pain. Something about a Greek myth.

"A gem, it's said. One that glows red with inner fire under the moonlight and bleeds the water of life under the light of Volley’s Comet."

Shinichi stiffened. It pinged something in his mind, something he’d read. "No way," he breathed. “You can’t be talking about a philosopher’s stone.”

Haibara continued to fidget with her coat. "Or something like it. It does sound mad, doesn’t it? Most of the upper echelons in the criminal sphere have toyed with the idea, not just the Karasuma zaibatsu. It's near common knowledge. It's rare the criminal element of a certain affluence that's not seeking it.”

"You just said it wasn’t a credible lead,” Shinichi said.

“Well.” She barked a short laugh. “You’ve caused me to rethink that, and the Aeterna compound is certainly real.”

A long moment of silence.

Shinichi shifted back. “What can I do to get rid of it?” he asked.

Haibara blinked. “I tell you you have the door to eternity, and you tell me to get rid of it,” she said.

“You didn’t die,” he said. “I don’t know that I could go through that again.” He rubbed at his chest, still aching deep inside.

More silence. It grew, stretched out, somber, serious.

Finally, Haibara said, “Allegedly the comet only comes every ten thousand years, and at that time, the jewel will bleed under the confluence of the comet and the pull of the moon.”

“Like syzygy?” Shinichi asked. “Comet, moon, earth,” he chopped the air with his hand after each word, "in alignment?"

“Partly,” Haibara said. “Each celestial object produces cosmic radiation, and from that radiation comes, say, a certain frequency. It was something I noticed, back with the Aeterna compound, that it would react to certain patterns of waves. Light, heat, sound.”

Shinichi saw her meaning, then. “So theoretically the comet’s effect can be reproduced with a certain frequency of those things?”

“And that’s not all. Aeterna resonated when met with the same frequency.”

Shinichi sat up straight. “You mean you can track it.”

“Yes,” she said. “And I hypothesize, should Pandora exist, it will share that same cosmic frequency. This is only a theory, but I suspect once the resonation stops, it should cease to have that effect.”

“So destroy the gem that causes the cosmic resonance, and it will destroy the effect?”

“Essentially.”

“Can you make a tracker?” Shinichi asked. If the gem was real, if they could track it, if he really was immortal, he had to find that gem. If for nothing else than discounting it as a theory.

Haibara nodded. “The professor can. It will take some time, but I will have a talk with him. That should narrow down the search for your gem.”

“Thanks, Haibara.”

Shinichi’s eyes had stopped hurting. Faster than they should have for that, too. He blinked, and the blur left his eyes.

He stood, intent on leaving now that he could see again.

Haibara tugged at his skirt. “Kudō-kun,” she asked. “Do you have anywhere to go?”

Shinichi shook his head. “No.”

“Why don’t you stay here?” she asked.

“I couldn’t possibly put you through that.” Shinichi had seen what happened when he involved people so closely in his business.

“Gin shot you. They will come after me, he certainly has before, this is not just a hypothetical. He knows I'm still alive.”

“I know, Haibara, that’s why we should divide and conquer. You’ll be better off if I’m not around”

Haibara crossed her arms and scoffed. “Or there’s strength in numbers. You taught me that, you know. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

“Haibara,” Shinichi said, touched.

“You are the dearest friend I have,” Haibara said, uncharacteristically forward. Shinichi blinked. She was never so open. His "death" had really affected her. “I owe you my life many times over. I would see that I return the favor. Please, stay here. Let me help you.”

Shinichi warred over it for a few moments. But in the end, it was no choice at all. He had nowhere else to go. “Fine,” he said.

“You will need identification,” she said.

She was right, but. “That’s going to be illegal.” He had no doubt he'd been declared dead.

“I have one particular government contact, the one who assigned my new identity and helped me acquire my job at the lab. We can get it legitimately,” Haibara said. Shinichi nodded. It was a great weight off his shoulders.

“Now I should probably call my contact at the Beika Museum of,” he trailed off. He turned back to Haibara. “That’s a problem too, isn’t it? It can’t be public.” He couldn’t call them. Not and have one hundred percent certainty that they wouldn’t expose him.

A stray thought tickled his mind.

Unless.

No. No. Absolutely not.

No.

The idea was absolutely ludicrous.

But it would keep his identity a secret. It was the only way forward, he was sure of it.

“What’s in that big head of yours, Kudō-kun?” Haibara asked.

Shinich turned to her, swallowing. “I think I’m going to moonlight as a gem thief,” he said.

[2]

“You can’t be serious!” Haibara said, eyes wide.

“How else do you expect me to find a jewel without letting anyone know what I'm doing or revealing my identity? It’s the only thing that makes sense,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Or someone likes the Kaitō Kid too much,” Haibara said, smirking.

Shinichi stilled. “You take that back,” Shinichi said. “I do not.”

“Do too,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

Shinichi scowled. “You’re ridiculous! You act more childish now that you’ve returned to yourself than you did when you were just a Detective Boy.”

“Well, we’ve all changed,” Haibara said. “You included.” She let out a sigh. “Well, if you’re determined to do this, then what can I do but support you?”

Shinichi blinked. “Support me?”

“Hmm, you need an assistant, as it were.”

“Assistant?” Shinichi said. He supposed that did make sense; even Kid had an assistant.

"Is that all you know how to do, repeat what I say?"

"No!" Shinichi said, irked.

Haibara jerked him back down to the sofa and began cleaning the edges of his wound with some hospital-grade antiseptic.

"I hope you have clean hands," Shinichi said.

Haibara rolled her eyes and continued. "Any ideas on how you're going to go about doing this, Mister Gem Thief? Ski mask? Stockings?"

"I—" Shinichi said, then faltered. "I don't know." His chest still ached something fierce. He tried to rub at it; it was itching, and Haibara slapped his hand away. "I need to be flashy, draw attention. I can’t be a common thief."

"I always knew you were an attention-seeker."

"Shut up." It was about more than that.

"Why not steal them secretly? It seems like it would be more efficient."

Shinichi's face hardened. "Because I want them to know that I'm coming for them and I won't take no for an answer. Because Gin thought he could shoot me down like a dog and get away with it."

Haibara nodded. "Good. We can't have you losing heart," she said, applying gauze to the wound. "Hmm. This already looks several weeks old. I estimate you heal about thirty-three percent faster than the average person."

Shinichi blinked. Each new piece of information just drove in the situation he was in. "How long was I gone?" He was afraid to hear the answer.

"Three days," she said, continuing to work around the wound.

Three days for his entire world to change. It seemed so short, so little in the scheme of things. The information made him a little dizzy, and he closed his eyes, still aching a little, pressing his hand to his forehead.

"I have a spare futon," she said.

Good. He needed it.

His stomach growled. "Do you have anything to eat?" he asked hopefully.

She taped off the bandages. "Yes. I'll get you something."

Shinichi tried to stand, only for her to clamp her hand down on his shoulder and force him back down to the sofa.

"You rest," she said. "I'll take care of it."

"But," Shinichi protested.

"Rest," she threatened him with death in her eyes.

"Okay," Shinichi said weakly.

While she went into the kitchen, Shinichi leaned back against the sofa, resting as per her instructions, deep in thought.

Thieving. What a concept.

It was true to a certain extent that Kaitō Kid had been the inspiration for his idea. Not in the way Haibara had insinuated, Shinichi thought, scowling. But misdirection. Shinichi was no magician, but he knew enough about misdirection to be capable of it himself.

Teen detective Kudō Shinichi becoming a phantom thief? Ludicrous. Who'd suspect? Therefore, it would be a perfect disguise. And Kid wasn't the only phantom thief running around, just the most recognizable with the best PR.

His clothes, yes. White was hard to miss. His style, iconic. White meant Kid flying in on aluminium and polyester. Tricks and magic, his heists such a spectacle the audience—and it was an audience—booed the Task Force and celebrated Kid instead.

Shinichi needed that support from the audience. And his disguises, too. Shinichi wasn't on the level of Kid, but his mother had taught him everything she knew, first when he was younger, then more in his disguise as Haibara.

Just in case.

Well, if there was ever a time he needed disguise, it was now.

Noise from the small kitchen, and the delicious scent of food.

And another thought lingering in the back of his mind—

What would people do to him, knowing he was functionally immortal? His blood would be valuable to those same criminal enterprises interested in the legend. They would, without a doubt, do terrible things trying to get it.

Then, of course, his blood was a potential biohazard contaminant to others.

So a full coverage suit. Something with style, and. A theme, like Kid and his cards.

He had something like that already, didn't he? Something that hid his face, that he knew well and could move around in. Something that had style.

(Something card-themed, his mind whispered traitorously.)

Prince Spade. It was the name of the prince from the play with Ran.

Now that was a stupid thought.

"You have the 'I'm about to do something stupid and reckless' face," Haibara commented idly, setting down a tray with water, a bowl of rice, and a small plate of bacon and rolled eggs beside it.

Overwhelming hunger roared inside him again now that food was present, and Shinichi inhaled it, eating as fast as he could with aching fingers and hands that shook. "It's not stupid and reckless," Shinichi said with his mouth half full.

Haibara's face scrunched up.

He swallowed, looked down at his clothes and said, "You got anything I can wear?"

"That depends. Are you going to go out and get yourself killed again?" Haibara asked, hands on her hips.

He was just going to the secret place he and Ran had found as first years. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

“No…?” he said. “I’m just going to pick up clothes. I’m coming right back.”

“You do recall that open box of elementary school clothes was one of the ways in which I deduced you were still alive, right?”

She was right. “I’ll stop at a thrift store along the way or something,” Shinichi said. She was right. He had to take it a little more seriously this time. “But I have something in mind that won’t be missed,” he said.

Haibara retrieved some clothes and threw the bundle at him. “Here. These should fit you. Return them in one piece. And don’t get blood on them.” She slapped some money on the side table and a spare key.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shinichi grumbled.

Haibara stared at him.

“Are you going to leave the room, or what?” he asked. He didn't think he could make it to the bedroom.

“It’s my apartment,” she said, rolling her eyes, but she obliged.

Shinichi took the moment to slip the clothes on, groaning as he realized it was a loose, flowing shirt and some yoga pants. It was true that Haibara always dressed nicely, and these were androdgynous and didn't look especially feminine, but the thought of being in her clothes was, ugh. Humiliating. Still, they were better than an ill-fitting skirt, so he slipped them on without a complaint, and he’d stop by the second hand place to add more to his wardrobe.

He slipped on her shoes; they only slightly pinched his feet, and he left again, rubbing at the bandages over his chest, and left her apartment.

He didn’t know if this was better or worse than Conan. He had the freedom and adult size, but he couldn’t come into contact with anyone at all. And this thought of becoming a thief, of picking up that Spade outfit that still hung in that hidden closet like a badge of shame…

What was he doing? Was it really the best idea? Probably not.

Shinichi laughed at himself. It was too late now. He'd already decided.

If he left now, he still had time to stop by the school while people were busy with their clubs; by the time he arrived, most people would already be gone.

Shinichi came to the ramshackle building on the junction between Haibara’s neighborhood and the market district, and entered old Satō’s shop.

It wasn’t one he frequented, and thus it was perfect for his current plans. They didn’t have much to choose from in his size, and they weren’t pieces he’d pick himself, thus they were perfect. He bought several outfits. He paid for his purchases under the lady’s suspicious eye, then changed into the Spirits ballcap, sunglasses, the black Dorcas tee, a purple and teal plaid chained jacket and a pair of dark jeans with ripped knees. He bought a pair of old blue canvas shoes in his size, and a denim backpack to stuff Haibara's clothes in.

Then he followed the familiar path to Teitan High School.

Spade. It made perfect sense. He was known for being young and headstrong, right? So how about a distinguished gentleman, fond of elevated poetry, dressed like a knight?

Ha. Even Ran wouldn’t believe it was him, even if it was his old costume. With over a thousand students at Teitan plus staff, it could really be anybody. Not to mention everyone thought it had been thrown away. He didn’t even think Ran remembered the little hidden room backstage in the auditorium, filled with old treasures.

It hit him then. This in essence was his first heist. He swallowed.

Was he sure he was ready for this, picking up the costume? Was he sure he wanted to go through with this crazy idea of becoming a phantom thief to search for jewels?

Shinichi wasn’t sure at all. But what else could he do?

He thought back to Kid. Thought about his charm, his style. Shinichi could certainly do that, and do a better job, too.

Kudō Shinichi, the Black Knight Spade. Stylish, handsome. Flirtatious, but every inch the chivalrous man one would expect of a courtier.

Shinichi set his jaw and clenched his teeth. It made the most sense, given he didn't want to disappear quietly, or have them disappear him should he get caught. He wanted to show them they couldn't break him, that the second murder attempt was just as much of a failure.

That would be his role, he decided. That of the Knight. The acting classes his mother forced him into would actually be worth something.

But first he had to get the costume.

It was easy to hop the wall, even with his injuries. Lots of handholds and grips, though he took great care with his fingers, still raw. Avoiding the cameras and the lingering students on campus was a bit harder, but he was observant, and he knew the route from his familiarity with the location.

He circled around the lee of the building to the blind side, where there were no cameras, and rattled the rusted chains around the door, held together by a padlock that was just as rusty.

They screamed as he pulled them open, but he slipped inside the small gap as easily as he had when he was a first year.

He turned the old panel, and with a crackle, the light sparked on, illuminating the piles of old props.

Nothing had been disturbed since the last time he was here, and the Knight's costume stood on the old mannequin, covered in a dusty sheet. He took it off, and Spade’s suit was pristine underneath it.

Staring at it, Shinichi didn’t quite know how to feel. He reached out and touched the soft fabric. How strange, that he was here now, doing this. Spade’s costume was almost like an old friend. The first, real time he’d been back as himself, when he’d had no idea of the way this worked. He almost wished he could be back there again. Things seemed almost...simpler.

He eyed his bag. Shinichi didn't want the costume to get excessively wrinkled, so he put it on. He turned to the full body mirror, tearing its dusty sheet off.

Something clattered off the top of the old cupboard.

Shinichi looked down.

In the warm golden light of sunset beaming down from the high window sat a jagged royal blue half mask with gold embroidery. It would match Spade's suit perfectly, almost like it was made for it. Shinichi had been concerned about the coverage of the helm. The mask was much better.

He pressed it against his face, looping the thin strings around his head. Yes, this would do just fine.

Shinichi looked...regal. Unlike himself. He threw the cape over his shoulders and suddenly everything was perfect.

He grabbed the replica sword and scabbard and belted it around his hip.

Noise directly outside had him wary, so he turned off the light, feeling around for the latch to the backstage on the other side of the room. He found it and let himself out through the hidden door, exiting in the narrow hallway between stage wings.

Shinichi booked it out of there, but as he turned around the corner and exited from the side of the stage, one of the members of the theater club dropped her paintbrush, streaking the background she was painting, and screamed.

Shinichi did not wait to see what would happen. He fled out the front door, following a similar path he'd taken around campus, still avoiding the cameras, and leapt the wall.

He waited until he was some distance away in an alley, panting. He clutched at his aching chest, leaning against the wall.

Alright, that might not have been the best idea. Wrinkling be damned. He changed back into the dark jeans and carefully folded the Black Knight outfit and put it in the top of the bag, mask on top, sword wrapped in the cape, and hilt sticking out of the top, then skirted around the other end of the alley and made his way back home.

Well, not home. Haibara’s apartment.

He stopped, looking in the direction of the fifth block.

Ran…

Their time together after the antidote had been so short, and now this.

What was he doing? She accepted him so easily after Conan, after he explained his reasons. It wasn’t fair to her. She was his best friend, and she’d already been through so much. Not just her. Everyone.

His nails dug into his palms, leaving crescent moons.

And if they found he couldn’t die, that it hadn’t been luck yet again...

His palms bled, and he forcibly relaxed his fingers.

She must be mourning him. His parents, too.

Shinichi turned and took a step towards home, then faltered. His reasons were still as valid now as they were then.

No, if anything, his death was conclusive evidence they'd kill them. Shinichi couldn't take that. Not another death on his conscience. He already had too many.

"I must find Pandora," he said. Destroy the resonance, take down Gin, and then maybe he could have a life again.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into a nearby quick shop to buy a newspaper and then returned to Haibara’s, letting himself in with the key.

“You made good time,” she said from the sofa, looking up from her laptop.

She was strangely surprised. "You weren't expecting me to come back," he said.

"No," she agreed.

"I think I've learned my lesson about recklessness," he said, and he sat down heavily on the couch, putting his face in his hands and sucking in a shaky breath before letting it out, just as rattling.

It didn't do much to help his mood. The room was cold, his chest hurt; he felt lost, like a man adrift at sea.

Shinichi didn't want to think about it, so he didn't, opening up the newspaper instead.

"You could find out more information online, these days," Haibara said.

"Maybe, but it's not the information I'm after, it's this advertisement." Shinichi leaned down, spreading the pages flat on the coffee table, grabbed a pen from the small wicker bowl nearby, and circled it.

"Doctor Gutiérrez's Diamond Symposium?" Haibara read, doubt in her voice.

"Traveling lecturer and exhibit. I took note of it as a potential Kid heist. Several of the most famous and largest diamonds in the world." He tapped the largest. "The Centenary Diamond is a good choice for a Pandora target."

"You're going to have to explain it to me."

"A blood diamond, owned by some of the most notorious people in the business, known for causing wars just to acquire things more cheaply.” Shinichi tapped the pen on the table. “Not to mention their Millennium collection in London was targeted by a group of twelve organized thieves at the turn of the century. Putting that all together, it would seem that there’s something behind it. The organization was smuggling arms when I first came into contact with them, so it seems a viable lead.”

Haibara laughed. “So you’re really going through with this crazy scheme of yours,” she said.

Shinichi blinked. “Well, yeah.” He narrowed his eyes at her, scowling. “What, you don’t think I can do it?”

Haibara just smirked, and then laughed again. “What I think is inconsequential if you’re just going to do it anyway.”

“I am.”

“Ha. The ultimate Kid fanboy.”

“I told you it’s not like that!” Shinichi said, heat creeping up his neck. “Besides, if you’re able to come up with that tracker, I’ll be able to tell if it’s a decent lead.”

“Fair enough,” she said, shaking her head.

“I should get started—“ Shinichi rose too fast, and the dizziness came back. The room spun, and Haibara placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Rest, first,” she said. “You’ve had a long and difficult day. I’ll go get the spare futon,” she said.

“Fine,” Shinichi said as she left the room. He sat back on the sofa, intending on at least having a working plan for the heist, but he fell asleep when he closed his eyes for just a moment.

[3]

"You sleep like the dead," Haibara said as Shinichi woke.

"Haibara, that's not funny,” he said, then groaned as he sat up. His body locked up, his joints stiff.

And he was attached to electrodes. He frowned and started detaching them bit by bit, annoyed. The machines they were attached to protested.

“I’m not laughing,” she said.

Indeed, her face was pale and haggard with lack of sleep, deep circles underneath her eyes.

“Haibara?” he asked.

“You’ve been asleep two and a half days,” she said. “I need my couch back.” It was said flippantly, but her words had no real bite.

"Two—" He took a closer look. She'd changed into pajamas and was sitting slumped back on the chair, holding a mug between her hands.

"Come on. I cleaned out the spare room," she said, setting her mug on the table and standing, and Shinichi followed with a wince, muscles sore from disuse.

When she opened the door, Shinichi couldn't help but let out a breath. "What?"

"While you were sleeping, I've been busy," she said.

Busy was an understatement. It was fully furnished, with a bed and armoire and worktable and laptop. Spade's suit hung on a mannequin, new and pristine. It looked thicker in places, the mask of higher quality. The sword, too, looked as if it had been polished. "What did you do?"

"Made an old man cry," she said. "He doesn't condone thieving, by the way, but he doesn't care so long as it doesn't directly involve him."

"The Doc made all this?" Shinichi asked. "In two days?"

"He was, dare I say it, inspired," Haibara said. "Seemed to be very happy for some reason. Even cried. Not that I confirmed or denied anything, or let him know you were in a coma."

She walked up the suit, slapped it on the chest. "Your new suit is made of aramids that are both heat resistant and flexible; it can withstand high kinetic velocity. The cape doubles as an extra layer, thin as it is. It won't withstand something of larger caliber, like a .44, but you'll survive even direct shots to the chest with most handguns, barring bruises or a busted rib or two."

"Haibara, we don't think I can die."

"That doesn't mean you should suffer either, you idiot with a martyr complex. The mask has an infrared sensor and tracker that will slide down over the eye aperture, that's all we were able to fit in; the sword, however, can detect cosmic radiation above a certain level, and will let you know by a light around the hilt."

"Haibara," Shinichi said, stunned.

"I also took the liberty of acquiring these," she said, picking up a tube lying on the workstation, emptying it and spreading its contents out on the station itself.

"Blueprints, wow. You've been very hard at work." Haibara was silent in response. Shinichi clenched his teeth before relaxing his jaw. He knew she'd never say it out loud, but she'd been incredibly worried, and she coped by distracting herself and staying busy, first with the antidote and now this.

Not to mention she probably blamed herself for him being like this in the first place.

"They're the blueprints to the Beika Museum of Natural History, where Doctor Gutiérrez will be holding his symposium starting tomorrow night. Now, Kid's hit the building before, so he'll have the advantage of being on the home ground—"

"Kid will be there?" Shinichi asked, scowling.

Haibara pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes, he will be there." She pulled out her phone from her pocket and showed him. "He delivered an advance notice to the Task Force this morning."

At Midnight Midsummer's Eve yet two days,

the Queen’s heirs and I shall dance~

怪盗キッド ♡Kid Doodle

"’At Midnight Midsummer's Eve yet two days, the Queen’s heirs and I shall dance,’” Shinichi read. “They loaned out the crown jewels for this?” he asked, incredulous.

“Cullinan I, III, and IV,” Haibara said. "As well as a couple more large diamonds of considerable clarity and size. Thankfully, he has the more difficult job. The Centenary won't garner near as much infamy or protection, but the whole exhibit comes with its own guards who allegedly know each other very well, and everyone must be verified and vetted to enter."

"So Kid's disguises might not work. I know the building well, maybe if I can—"

She hit his chest on the uninjured side with the back of her hand. "We've been signed up for this conference and you're my plus one."

Shinichi narrowed his eyes. "That's convenient.”

"The professor did it. Apparently, it was going to be a surprise, before," she trailed off and looked away.

Before his death, she meant.

Awkward silence.

“In any case, I contacted my liaison within the government.” She slapped a packet on the table. “It’s nice to meet you, Aoyama Shinji-san.”

‘Aoyama?’ Shinichi mouthed. “'Shinji?'” he repeated doubtfully. “Let me guess; the kanji for new and two.”

“The kanji for truth and two, Aoyama-san. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Shinichi traced the blueprint, then tapped the lecture hall. “If it’s like the other presentations, the exhibit will be left nearly unguarded on the table during the main part of the presentation. Maybe a few guards. They’ll expect the crowd to be a deterrent. Since everyone is vetted, they’ll think Kid won’t chance it. But I’m dead. I don’t have that problem.”

Haibara crossed her arms. “Do you know the level of favor I had to exchange for your new identity? Don’t be so quick to discard it.”

Shinichi tilted his head. “If it gets me that gem, I don’t care.” Haibara narrowed her eyes. “The organization has done far too much with that Aeterna compound already. Can you imagine what would happen if they had direct access to the source?”

Haibara’s eyes darkened. “All too well,” she said. “Why don’t you try this on,” she said, gesturing back to the suit. "There’s another feature left to discuss. Put it on, starting with the undersuit.” She handed it to him.

“What features?” he said, stripping down to his underwear and slipping it over his body.

“A quick change mechanic. We patterned it off Kid.”

“Why Kid?” he said, following it with leggings and tunic.

“Do you even have to ask?” Haibara said, shaking her head. “Now put on the Black Knight’s outfit.”

“His name is Spade.”

“A card suit. Of course. Now put it on, Sir Spade,” she urged, and Shinichi did. “Activate the small switch on the edge of the collar.”

Shinichi pressed the small leaf pin, and suddenly he was dressed up in black tie, perfect for an event. He flipped it again and he was back in his suit. He would have to manually take off the mask, but otherwise…

Haibara and the professor had really gone all out to help him in this. They had faith in him.

“Whoa.”

-

Kaito stalked the length of the Blue Parrot, and plopped down into one of the bar stools, tapping his fingers on the bar.

"Jii-chan, can I get a soda?"

The old man nodded. "Right away, young sir!"

In all seriousness, Kaito should have expected the birthday party. What he didn’t expect was Akako and Hakuba’s attendance. He had things to discuss with Jii about tonight’s heist, damn it! One person was easier to distract than three!

“What is this?” Hakuba said, leaning over the bar and waving a sheet of paper in front of Kaito. His eyes crossed trying to focus, and then he scowled and snatched it out of his hand.

“What is what?” Kaito said irritably, holding it away from him like it was a viper.

“It’s an advance notice,” Hakuba said, tone mild but accusational.

“Well, if you know what it is, why are you bothering me about it?” Kaito said, and then he glanced over it. Too long. Nope. “This isn’t a Kid note. Kid doesn’t do riddles,” Kaito said.

“He does occasionally,” Aoko piped up from her position seated on top of the bar itself. “At least twice. Once with the Black Star, then again with the Fabergé egg.”

“A riddle once or twice doesn’t make it a pattern,” Kaito said. Besides, those were extenuating circumstances. He wanted them to know what he was stealing. What was he supposed to do? Wait for Nakamori to solve them? Nah. It wasn’t fun unless the brat was there, and he’d unfortunately moved on to other things.

“Isn’t it odd that a Kid fan like you wouldn’t know?” Hakuba asked, leading. He sat down on the stool next to Kaito. “Besides, you missed the Gem of Destiny. That heist had a riddle, too.”

“Well aren’t you all a bunch of Kaitō Kid experts,” Kaito said.

"We are the Kaitō Kid Detective Club!" said Aoko.

Jii leaned over the bar and slid a parfait to the edge of the counter instead of a soda. Well, Kaito certainly wasn't going to protest.

Akako moved from her position against the wall and took the stool on the other side of Kaito. “Someone is grumpy,” she said. “Are you sad that another thief is getting the attention instead of Kid?” she asked.

“I have absolutely no idea what any of you are talking about,” Kaito said.

“The advance notice is signed Spade,” Hakuba said helpfully. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, Kuroba?” He placed odd emphasis on his name.

“Absolutely not,” Kaito said. He turned his attention back to the paper, actually taking the time to scan it over it.

Before the twins lay down to rest tonight;

And the crab emerges from its hollow,

A hundred years will pass in a flash so bright—

‘Ware at noon, the Black Knight Spade will follow.

Spade Doodle

スペード ♤

"That's incredibly basic," Kaito said, even more annoyed. If it was a riddle, shouldn’t it be harder? "And who stages a heist at noon?"

"Someone who is incredibly bold," Akako muses. "Does Kid have a rival now?"

"Kid also referenced the Grecian Zodiac in the Fabergé heist," Hakuba pointed out, not helpfully. "I think Kid has a fan."

"Hakuba. Not helping. I don't need to know about some weirdo's crush on Kid. Besides, isn't that Kid's heist?" Kaito asked, leaning back against his stool and hoping to deflect.

"He's after the pieces of the Star of Africa," Hakuba said. "The Cullinan Diamonds. Spade appears to be after the Centenary Diamond."

Kaito frowned. And they had the audacity to do it on the day of the heist, too. Couldn't they have waited?

Though maybe they wanted to do it during the prime time of the symposium. That's why Kaito wanted to do it, anyway. But right in the middle of the lecture? What was this 'Spade' doing? Riding on the back of Kaito's coattails?

Kaito really didn't need this complication. With so many diamonds, even with a heavy guard, it was almost guaranteed Snake would be there.

And he really hoped it wouldn't be a Nightmare thing. He'd had enough of that already. Chat Noir, too, for all that had ended well enough. And now this "Spade" character.

It was going to be more difficult now, too. Not that he couldn't handle that difficulty, but on top of everything else, this new thief could mean the difference between success and failure.

Kaito was already planning on attending the lecture in disguise, he’d worked out the best person who he could take the place of with minimal fuss, and since he’d hit the Beika Natural Museum so often, he had spare clothes already in the building.

“Kaito?” Aoko asked, tugging at his sleeve, scooting closer to him. “Are you alright?”

Hakuba raised an eyebrow. “Aoko-kun is right. You seemed very deep in thought.”

“Hmph. Someone is challenging Kid-sama, of course I am concerned,” Kaito said, resting his chin in his hands, leaning over the bar.

“Why? You don’t think your beloved Kid-sama can do it?” Akako asked, leaning over, hands behind her back.

“Of course the mighty Kid-sama can do it,” Kaito said, even more annoyed. “I just can’t believe someone thinks they’re good enough to upstage Kid. Why couldn’t they wait for a heist of their own, instead of piggybacking off Kid’s?” Kaito said with a sniff.

And he’d have to leave soon if he wanted to make it in time to set up for the heist.

Curse that stupid pretentious thief. Kaito absolutely needed to be there even earlier than he had planned.

Which meant he had to find a reason to leave. “I don’t think I can take all of you ganging up on me and besmirching Kid’s good name,” he huffed, standing and walking towards the door.

“Young Kaito! You can’t just leave your birthday party,” Jii said, lifting up a slice of cake on a saucer in protest.

“Surprise birthday party,” Kaito said. “I wasn’t part of the planning, why would I need to stay?”

“Kaito!” Aoko scolded. “You should be more grateful!”

Kaito narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, If you wanted me to make time for it, I should have known about it,” he said. He held Jii’s gaze, and Jii absolutely understood because he gave a slight nod. “I’m out. See you later, Jii.”

"Of course, young master. You will."

Good. Confirmation. At least he'd have Jii with him for backup tonight.

“I think I should also take my leave,” Hakuba said. “My apologies.”

Kaito frowned at him.

“Really!” Aoko grumbled. “But I worked so hard on the decorations!”

Akako let out a sigh, and then bumped her shoulder against her knee. “I’ll stay. Can’t let all the hard work you did go to waste, after all.”

Aoko’s eyes shone. “Thanks, Akako-chan!”

Kaito slammed the door behind him, scowl deepening as Hakuba caught the door and followed him anyway.

“Don’t you have better things to do than to follow me?” Kaito asked.

“Not particularly. It seems that with Kid’s heist notice, all the tickets for the Diamond Symposium have been sold out,” Hakuba said, hands in his pockets. “Even before the second advance notice. And then I was invited to your party.”

“Why did you actually come?” Kaito grumbled.

“I had nothing better to do.”

Kaito blinked. “Glad to be your last resort,” he said irritably.

“Not quite my last resort,” Hakuba said.

“Your father is Superintendent-General,” Kaito said flatly. “I’m sure you’d have no problem attending the heist instead.”

“And maybe nepotism isn’t something I want to cultivate any longer,” Hakuba said.

"Nakamori would be glad to have you, I'm sure," Kaito said. “You’ve come closer to capturing Kid.”

“Why, Kuroba-kun, are you saying you want me there to cause trouble for Kid?” Hakuba teased.

Kaito stared at him for a moment. He was actually teasing him. He narrowed his eyes. What had him in such a good mood? Then he said, “You can cause all the trouble for this Black Knight Spade that you like.”

Honestly, Kaito was still reeling over the audacity of this character. And that note. So pretentious!

"I might just attend, then," Hakuba said. “We wouldn’t want this new thief to cause trouble for Kid, would we?”

Kaito stopped, whirling on him. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” he said.

Hakuba shrugged. “Not particularly,” he repeated.

“Tch,” Kaito said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and kicking the pavement, walking again.

“You seem quite agitated,” Hakuba said.

“Thank you, Detective Obvious,” Kaito said.

"More so than you should be if you were just Kid's fan."

"Can you just stop with the snide insinuations today?" Kaito said, stopping and whirling again. "For the last time, I'm not Kid."

"As you say," Hakuba said mildly.

It took everything Kaito had inside him not to lose it at his stupid smug face.

If Hakuba wanted to follow him home, whatever. He'd leave out the secret entrance.

They walked in silence for a block or two, then Hakuba said his farewells, leaving Kaito on his own.

Finally.

Ugh.

Kaito still stopped by the house for a shower and some extra things for his kit. Then in dark clothing with a cap over his head, he headed off to the law offices of Morita & Takahashi.

Morita Yū was still there, still alone, even this early, with a do not disturb sign on his door.

Instead of working on paperwork, he was watching Sentai. He always did that on Fridays. Just...marathoned them at the office. That's why Kaito had picked him, in the end. It was a harmless habit but Morita found it embarrassing and that left him isolated, perfect for Kaito to deliver a ticket in his name and use him as a front.

Kaito entered as his receptionist and gassed Morita, then tied him up gently and left him under the desk, taking his clothes.

His body type wasn't too different from Kaito's own, and he swiped the ticket for the symposium off his desk as well as his mobile phone. He ruffled his hair into shape with a little gel, then he put the facial prosthetics on, blending them into his skin with a little light make-up.

Alright. Time to see what this Spade was all about.

He left his bag in one of his hideaways, then walked the short distance to the Beika Museum of Natural History.

Getting inside was supremely simple, even with Morita’s dubious credentials. Despite the fact he was using an alias, he passed without a problem. He’d heard they might be using full body scanners outside and prepared accordingly, but it seemed they weren’t.

And he was in, making his way to the lecture hall and staring like he’d never seen it before. In reality, he was casing the place, but rumor had it that Morita was a little bit spacy, so it wasn’t the least bit out of character.

They’d changed the exhibits around a little bit. The entryway now had a history of all the companies involved in the mining, as well as the current state of ownership of each diamond, and what it took to make a diamond, synthetic and non.

Mostly in layman’s terms, but Kaito supposed it was supposed to be an exhibit, and the tickets to the symposium were open to everyone.

He walked closer to the wall to read one of the placards. Which, now that he thought about it, was odd. As well as the coordination and pull it took to get portions of the Crown Jewels of the United Kingdom to Japan. Especially to this region of Tokyo, where the Phantom Thief Kid was known to pull heists.

Unease growing, Kaito followed the trail of gemstones to the lecture hall. Most weren’t near as high quality as the Star of Africa, or the Centenary that Spade was after. Some were rough and uncut. Others were small. Still others were of lesser quality. He paused for a moment, going to the janitorial room and lifting the ceiling there, then dressed himself in Kid’s outfit and kit just in case, smoothing Morita’s suit back over himself and leaving the room.

The closer Kaito got to the lecture hall, the deeper his unease grew. He couldn’t put his finger on it just yet, but something was deeply wrong, and it was more than just Spade’s appearance. More than the guards, even, some foreign, some of which were carrying handguns.

Something was wrong.

Kaito’s feeling of foreboding increased as he entered the hall.

[4]

The lecture hall was a decent size, Kaito thought. Two entrances, two exits, plus a third with the relative ease of escaping using the observation deck. More, if one counted the ceiling tiles and Kaito's deep familiarity with the blueprints.

What was Spade’s game? They might be easier to swipe outside of their cases, but escape would be much harder with that much focus on him and that few exits.

Kaito's eyes flickered over the armed guards. Especially since they weren't chancing a thief. Noon was an hour from now. Kaito had come early, precisely for this, and he was one of the earliest in the hall, aside from the presenters.

Inspector Nakamori was already there, standing next to the lectern and examining it for flaws. Kaito was curious if he'd find any. The silk velvet display was there, but barren.

Thankfully, Hakuba hadn't taken his advice and wasn't here. One less thing to worry about.

Some of them were Japanese, but most of them were foreign, and Kaito didn't think he trusted foreign gunmen, not after the trigger happy Detective Delon.

Come to think of it, he didn't trust Japanese gunmen either. He didn't see anyone he’d met before, and it took every ounce of self control Kaito had not to fidget; he recognised none of the Task Force save the good Inspector, and it would be all too easy for Snake or his minions to slip in.

Almost like it was engineered to be that way.

The room filled up relatively quickly; anxious, Kaito noted several children. He scanned every face, even theirs, and found no one who might be Spade.

The Black Knight. Spade was setting himself up as a foil to Kid, what with the black against his white.

Kaito narrowed his eyes. Perhaps as a foil to Kuroba. Had his identity been compromised?

The Black Knight, the elevated and antique language of the note…

Who was he? And why now? Why this heist?

Part of him half believed it was a trick from them, but blaming everything on Snake, especially when his history of past nuisances at heists did include people like Delon and Nightmare, was illogical.

Kaito would have to sit and watch and wait, and he hated doing that.

The Black Knight, a foresworn knight who'd abandoned his lord and wore no heraldry. Or perhaps one who merely cloaked himself at the behest of his king.

Time would tell which one was which.

Kaito settled in, only sitting up when he saw a vaguely familiar woman in a black cocktail dress. She had a soft vulpine face; narrow features, angled cheekbones, delicately chiseled jaw—a beautiful woman in the classical Japanese sense. Her dark black hair was pulled back in a chignon.

Her partner likewise had the same vague familiarity to him, though Kaito couldn't place him either. Nose too large, jaw too square. But something about those piercing blue eyes…

The presentation would begin soon.

The diamonds were contained in a specially fitted case. Each slot was custom made so they’d be nestled snugly. The assistant took them out with great care, laying them out neatly on the silk velvet, each one getting its own small stand.

The gems were priceless, more money than any of them would ever see in a lifetime. Kaito itched to get his hands on them. Maybe one of them was Pandora and this search would finally end.

Not that he had anything against the moonlight magician, per se, but things had changed, once the people who had harmed his father returned to the picture. It had become less a romp and more a duty, especially as their inclination to do harm increased.

So no, Kaito didn’t like the presence of the gunmen at all. Authorized or not...Kaito looked over the growing crowd, nearly every seat in the lecture hall filled from wall to wall.

Kaito would certainly take them into consideration. But would Spade, or the security?

The lecturer, one Doctor Armando Gutiérrez, stepped up to the lectern, light shining off his golden hair. He dropped his sheaf of papers, and then laughed nervously as he knelt down to pick them up. “Wow, what a crowd,” he said, in lightly accented Japanese. “I’m not used to this many people taking an interest in diamonds—”

The room tittered. Kaito was tempted.

“Um, anyway, this series of lectures is part of an outreach program on geoscience and mineralogy—”

Kaito tuned him out, returning to scanning the room surreptitiously. The analogue clock behind Doctor Gutiérrez ticked past twelve. Kaito checked his watch. It was running five minutes fast.

Four minutes. Gutiérrez wasn't saying anything Kaito didn't already know from Jii's crash course on each object.

Three minutes. Kaito shifted, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.

Two minutes. Almost at five past.

One minute. The thrill of anticipation raced its way through Kaito's veins. Would Spade show?

Thirty seconds.

Twenty.

Ten.

Right at zero, the lights sparked and cut out. Kaito shifted forward in his seat. Spade was doing it, then.

A rumbling sound filled the room, shaking Kaito in his seat. The tinkling of chimes and the plucking of a koto’s strings.

The sweet scent of flowers. A flash of bright light as a spotlight shone on the gems, and a figure descended from above in a puff of black smoke to land on the display table. As the smoke cleared, a swirl of black petals surrounded him, his cape flowing dramatically behind him, although there was no breeze in the hall.

Black feathers fell as he drew his sword.

His face was covered in a half mask as deep blue as his cape, edged in intricate gold above and below his eye; a mantle wound its way around his neck, gilt thread peaking out above the wrapped cloth. His boots and gloves appeared to be of the same dark color, and even though he was under the spotlight, the outfit appeared to absorb all light.

His sword, however, glowed very faintly as it passed over the table where the jewels lay, and Spade’s gaze hardened.

The visible half of his face was unremarkable, a Japanese everyman, and Kaito had no doubt it was intentional.

“Your measures against me have failed,” a light tenor intoned. Spade bounced the brilliant cut Centenary diamond up on his boot, and from his boot to his free hand in one easy movement. “As I have foretold, the hundred years are now mine.” He tucked it away into his suit.

Arrogant asshole, Kaito thought, scoffing.

The room had been held spellbound by Spade’s appearance, but one of the gunmen reached for his pistol and pulled it out.

Kaito tensed, fingers gripping the seat.

“In front of the children?” Spade asked, gloved finger on his lips. “What a boorish brute, you are,” he said, and then he kicked the case at the gunmen, knocking him back as the man fired wildly. It was at the precise angle to make him fire into the ceiling. Spade brought up his cape and sword, blocking the hit, then jumped down off the table in a flourish, grabbing the Cullinan II, the largest piece of the Star of Africa present, as another shot went off.

That was Kid’s jewel. He hated breaking his advance notices, but he broke out of Morita’s suit with a sweep of his arms and leapt over the head of the crowd, landing in a puff of smoke in front of Spade.

“Somebody should stick to their own heists,” Kaito said with a smirk.

Spade tilted his head. “And perhaps someone should follow his own advice,” he said. “It’s not gentlemanly.”

Ugh, smooth.

And he'd been one upped.

“KID!” Nakamori yelled. Not in surprise but in warning.

Spade’s eyes flickered to the side, and he pushed Kaito out of the way, flipping the table. Diamonds clattered everywhere across the dais as the shot aimed for Kaito clipped Spade's cape instead.

Kaito glanced up at the spotlight, still shining down on both of them, and shot the electrical box with his card gun, sending a surge of electricity through the lighting, and the room fell into darkness.

Kaito heard another gunshot, and more screaming, but Spade had been smart to make them temporary cover. Not only that, he wasn't using the crowd to escape. The rush of people flooded towards the green exit signs, the only light in the darkness.

Harsh panting beside him in the dark, and then Spade turned.

Kaito only knew because the eye not hidden by the mask glowed in the dark.

And not just any color, but a deep, sinister red in a kaleidoscope of facets. No iris or pupil, but a solid glimmering jewel, a ruby centered in his sclera, gleaming from some inward glow.

Kaito recoiled, thankful the dark hid his reaction.

What in Akako’s cursed name was going on? Did she have anything to do with this?

"Stay down," he said, hand on his arm. His touch felt hot, even through his clothes, and Kid swallowed as a thrilling tingle went up his arm.

What was he? He leapt over the table and drew his sword, and his sword grew a little brighter as he brought it over the scattered diamonds; faint, but brighter in the dark.

Spade grabbed one of them, Kaito wasn’t sure which and touched it to his sword, like he was expecting something to happen.

Nothing did.

He grabbed two more, touching them to his sword as another gunshot went off, still aimed at Kaito who ducked once more behind the table as Spade sheathed his sword.

The bullet went clear through his hat, and he was thankful he hadn’t brought any of his doves with him today.

Kaito gritted his teeth. “Che.” Even though Spade was a clearer target, they were still aiming at him instead. His uneasy feeling was right. Snake had helped himself to the guard rotation. This was his fault. He leapt over the table as well, picking up the other two pieces of the fragmented diamond and tucking them away.

The lights came back up, and suddenly Spade and Kid were surrounded. In the center was a face Kaito knew all too well, the brim of his fedora shading his eyes. He had his gun out and pointed at Kaito.

"Men in black, huh," Spade said with a dark chuckle. Spade shifted and placed himself in front of Kaito, arm and cape outstretched. "Always with their guns. If it didn't stick the first two times, what makes you think it will stick now?"

Kaito bristled. Who was he and what did he think he was doing?

Snake shifted the pistol towards Spade. “We don’t like people that interfere,” Snake said.

“No,” Spade murmured. “No, you never do.” He shifted, hand on his sword. “Kid,” he said, even lower, his back still to him, standing between him and Snake. “When I give the word, I want you to run.”

“No,” Kaito said.

“That’s cute. You think I’m giving you a choice.” His eyes flickered over to the corner. “You need to get the good Inspector out of here.”

Inspector Nakamori had a wound on his head, bleeding sluggishly, knocked out. Kaito cursed to himself. Spade was right. No wonder Nakamori had been so quiet in all this mess. “We’re going to have words later,” he said.

“So long as you’re alive to have words later,” Spade said, and damn it all, Kaito couldn’t disagree with that. "In three, two, one.” He drew his sword again and thrust it at Snake; the tip knocked the gun askew and wounded his hand, but not before the gun went off and clipped Spade somewhere around the shoulder, jolting him back.

Spade grunted in pain. “Go!” he yelled, and Kaito dropped a flashbang, flitted to the corner, and scooped up the Inspector. Nakamori groaned in pain, suggesting greater injuries, and Kaito cursed again. If Aoko’s father was seriously injured he’d never be able to face her again. Forget her, he’d never be able to face himself again.

“C’mon, Oyaji, stay with me,” he said, kicking open the door.

Inspector Nakamori’s eyelids fluttered. “Kaito?” he asked as Kaito darted into the hall. There were armed guards there, too, but Kaito flipped a smoke grenade in his mouth and bit the ring with a yank of his head, releasing a flood of smoke.

“Rest now, okay?” Kaito said, ring still in his teeth, patting Inspector Nakamori’s face with his glove. “I can take care of this.”

“Alright,” he grumbled, and his head lolled back.

Now he had an arm full of Inspector and nowhere to go, and Spade was still trapped in that room, gunfire rattling nonstop like a whole stand of firecrackers.

Why had Spade stepped in front of him? Why had Spade helped him?

He turned another corner and into a crowd of people, barricaded by the door. Through the lobby windows he could see a police cordon; they had the building surrounded.

“Is anyone a medical doctor?” he asked, and the woman with the chignon in the black cocktail dress raised her hand. It shook.

“Take care of him, please,” he said, walking through the crowd as they parted and laying him down in front of her. Their eyes met, and her expression firmed and she nodded sharply, taking off her jacket and immediately getting to work.

Kaito ran back into the hall and straight into more guards. He drew his card gun faster than they could aim at him, firing off shot after shot and knocking all their guns from their hand. He took the stairs two at a time to the observation deck, where Jii was originally supposed to meet him, only to find the lecture hall below blanketed in darkness once again. Jii was nowhere to be seen, and why would he be? Kaito’s heist was supposed to have occurred at midnight, once the day flipped over. He probably hadn't even left Kaito's birthday party yet.

No more gunfire. Kaito’s dummy was set to go off by remote control, and he pressed the button. Who knew how well they’d follow it in daylight, since it was so clearly fake; the thermals were different in summer with the heat of the pavement, too.

Footsteps and the turn of a knob. Kaito tensed, ready to flee.

A hand over his mouth and he was pulled into a dark sloped hall that curved around. Kaito struggled for a moment before he felt the brush of a cape, and his hand slipped. They exited in a dusty room filled with boxes. It was lit dimly.

"The archives?" he said to himself.

"Yes," Spade said. "It's connected to the observation hall for ease of access. They won't find it in the digitized blueprints. They stopped using it after the renovations in the eighties."

Kaito jerked away from him and whirled. "I'm not going to thank you." He kept his body loose, open, in case Spade tried anything.

"I don't want your thanks," Spade said. "Here," he said, reaching into his pockets, "it's not the one I'm looking—" he patted himself down, cursing.

Kaito held out Cullinan II. "Looking for something?" He'd grabbed it when Spade had grabbed him.

Spade laughed. "Not that one." He pulled out the Centenary Diamond. "I have my prize."

"Most thieves would want it all," Kaito said.

"Well, then why don't you?" Spade asked, tucking it away again.

"That's none of your business. You ruined my heist." And got shot protecting Kaito. His wound was bleeding sluggishly, though it was hard to tell against the dark fabric.

"You ruined mine." Spade's visible eye shuttered. "I didn't think they'd find me so soon. Besides, the jewel didn't have your name on i—" Spade coughed hard, hand on his chest. He leaned over, still coughing, and then he hacked up a handful of blood. In the middle was a bright object in the shape of a...bullet?

"Ah, so that's where it went," Spade muttered.

"Did you just cough up a bullet?" Kaito asked, incredulous.

Spade cleared his throat. "A little too much iron in my diet, that's all," he said, like it was nothing.

What in the hell? "Who are you?" Kaito asked.

"I'm no one of consequence," Spade said, which was complete and utter bullshit.

Kaito scoffed to show him what he thought of those words. "Don't get in my way again."

"Thief to thief, I won't hold back," Spade said.

"From now on, you and I are rivals," Kaito said. "I won't hold back, either."

"Good," Spade said. “I look forward to it.” He raised his hand, and in a swirl of smoke and black feathers, he was gone, leaving Kaito with a hell of a lot to think about.

What a farce of a heist that had been. But Spade was like no other thief he had encountered. Kaito crept down the basement hall to the second set of clothes he had squirreled away in the ceiling, intending to join the crowd outside to make his escape as they let them through.

They were still barricaded in the hall. The lady in the cocktail dress had been rejoined by her friend, and they were talking in low tones. It seemed the gunmen had stopped firing; Kaito wanted to investigate, but Morita was a useful disguise and he didn’t want to lose his access over something that wasn’t exactly necessary.

Gunshots, that red eye…

Who was Spade, he wondered, why this heist? Why now? And those red, red eyes; had they truly been glowing or was it just a reflection in the dim light of the lecture hall?

He shook his head. No. Not with the faceted iris. So bizarre.

What did he want? Why did he save Kaito? Why was he willing to give over the diamond? His motives were suspicious, and though it had ended terribly, no one innocent had died. That, at least, was a net positive.

Still, to have happened so brazenly, to participate in a heist in the middle of the day with no regards to the surrounding crowd...Was what happened intentional? Or an accident?

Kaito paced, restraining his movements tightly, making them seem agitated and clipped. He let himself move closer and closer naturally to where Nakamori lay unconscious, head pillowed on cocktail dress lady’s jacket, and kept watch over his friend’s father.

Nakamori rose a few minutes later, hand on his head, grumbling and complaining, and something tight in Kaito’s chest eased, and he let out a slow breath, smiling.

Good. That was very good.

He crossed his arms, hunched in on himself. It had all gotten out of hand so fast. Snake was coming to more and more heists.

What an absolute nightmare this had been.

Happy birthday, Kaito.

Prince Spade with a glowing gem-like eye holding a diamond while Kid stands shadowed with his back to the viewer

Art by Chii

[5]

"Dad!" Aoko cried out, wrapping her arms around him in front of the doors at the hospital.

Kaito relaxed, posture going boneless. His muscles had been taut since the heist. To see Nakamori up and walking around washed away the last of the tension riding on his shoulders. Kaito could breathe easier.

"Aoko," he groused, wrapping his arms around her in return and giving her back a couple of quick pats before letting her go and straightening his jacket.

"Kaito-kun," he said.

Kaito merely nodded.

They flagged down a taxi, Nakamori riding in front, and then they invited Kaito into their home.

Kaito had tensed up again. The inspector kept shooting him weighted looks, and Kaito hadn’t forgotten he’d said his name in his delirium.

The inspector had slipped on a pink apron and had instructed Kaito to prep vegetables, which he was dicing with alacrity.

"Kaito-kun?" the inspector asked.

"Yeah?" Kaito asked, lifting his head from his work. He’d probably sliced the carrots too thin. Hmm.

"...Were you at the museum today?" he asked.

Kaito shook his head. "Nuh uh," he said.

"Damn Kid," Nakamori grumbled through clenched teeth. Then he set down the large knife he’d been using to carve up the roast into small chunks. "He saved my life."

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Kaito asked, moving to peel the potatoes with a thin silver knife.

“I don’t know,” Nakamori admitted.

“I think it’s a good thing,” Kaito said. “You should be more careful with yourself, you’re all Aoko’s got. You scared her today.”

‘You scared me today,’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say that. Not between men.

They both looked over at Aoko, humming as she squeezed out the juice for lemonade. Her hair was in greater disarray than usual, and her clothes were rumpled, and her face was lined with grief she hid by fake cheer.

“Kid’s not worth your life,” Kaito continued, picking up the next potato, trying to slice the whole thing without breaking the peel.

“It wasn’t Kid!’ Nakamori said, slamming his fist down on the counter and making both Kaito and Aoko jump, causing Kaito to slice right through the middle of the peel. “It wasn’t Kid,” he said, more quietly. “He saved my life.”

“See, I told you Kid-sama was the best,” Kaito said, sticking his tongue out at Aoko, but he didn’t feel it. He set the potato to the side and picked up the last one, peeling it.

"Kid is still a jerk," she said. "But I forgive him, this time."

"No. Something wasn't right about that set-up," Nakamori said, picking up the knife and continuing to slice the meat into chunks.

"That new thief, Spade?" Kaito asked. Now that they were all peeled, his hands were a whirlwind, dicing them.

"Some of those men I'd never seen before," he said, slicing the meat with intent. "We went over it the night before. In the morning, a few had been replaced. It was one of them who fired first."

"I don't think you should do that without your task force anymore," Kaito said, putting the potatoes into a strainer and rinsing them of their starch.

"I agree," Aoko said. "Dad, you should really be surrounded by people you can trust."

"I can't always—" he began, but then his face softened as Kaito and Aoko looked up at him with pleading faces. "Fine," he said. "I'll at least make sure I have people I trust with me."

"Good," Aoko and Kaito said together as Nakamori fired up the pot. Kaito sidled over, sliding the finished vegetables towards him.

“What do you think of that new thief?” Kaito asked, hoping his intent wasn’t too obvious.

Nakamori grunted. “Didn’t get to see much of him before I got hit by that bullet.”

Well, that wasn’t much help.

The three of them busied around, preparing the meal. As Kaito was finishing up, cleaning the cutting board and washing his hands, the phone in his pocket buzzed, so he excused himself to take it.

“Hello?” Kaito said.

“Kuroba-kun.” It was Hakuba, calling him. It wasn’t as unusual as it used to be, but Hakuba still didn’t call him regularly.

“Hakuba?” he replied, wary. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing in particular,” he said. “I merely called to see the rest of how your birthday fared. I’d heard that Inspector Nakamori was released from the hospital.”

“Ah, yes. They only kept him overnight for observation. One of the guards shot him on accident.”

“‘On accident?’ Well, I heard it through station rumors that the phantom thief Kid carried him out of the room and saved his life.”

“That’s true enough,” Kaito said, pulling out a coin and flipping it between his fingers as he paced. “He still lost a lot of blood. I went with Aoko to the hospital.”

“As a good friend should,” Hakuba said. Che. Like Kaito did it for Hakuba’s sake. “Did he say anything about Spade?”

“A little.” This was a conversation better held away from prying ears. He left the Nakamori house with a quiet goodbye, excusing himself from dinner, staying silent until he reached his own house. This series of lies was going to be precariously balanced as it was, and the last thing he needed was for Aoko or her father to overhear.

“Well?” Hakuba said, impatient.

“He dressed in such a deep shade of blue it looked black. He wore a heavy cape that covered him completely, and perhaps had a cowl curled around his neck. He wore a half mask, covering one eye and half his face, with gold on the mask and the collar. He had a sword and fancied himself a knight—or so I've heard," Kaito said, barely managing to tack a modicum of plausible deniability at the end as he entered the house and flopped down on the sofa.

"Ah, yes. That's certainly a description of him, but what was he like?"

"Annoying. Dramatic and theatrical." Kaito kicked his feet up.

"And this is coming from a Kid fan?"

"Shut up. When is the last time Kid's used black feathers and flower petals, seriously."

"I seem to recall a heist with feathers."

Ugh, that icy hell! "That wasn't Kid," Kaito said, even more annoyed. “What’s all this about, anyhow? You don’t ask things like that for no reason.”

“Merely that the Centenary Diamond was apparently delivered to the station today in a finely wrought chest, like something you would see out of a period piece. It seems Kid certainly has another fan.”

"Or they're just a filthy copycat riding on Kid's coattails."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that." Hakuba said, smug. Kaito wanted to reach through the phone and dye his hair. “Kid hasn’t delivered his part of the diamonds back, after all.”

Yeah, Kaito had been a little busy, what with Nakamori in the hospital. The three stones resting against his heart sat heavy. And now to find that Spade had managed to copy even that. It was frustrating. What exactly was his game?

“What have you heard about him?” Kaito asked, turning it around on Hakuba.

“Nothing,” Hakuba said.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am. I talked to my father, asked around at the precinct, talked to a few contacts I’ve online. No one has ever heard of Spade before tonight.”

“Or you’re just not looking in the right place. He had to originate from somewhere.”

“Yes, but so far it doesn’t seem like he came from the usual channels. Something else I find quite interesting. He could have picked any gem, any time to hold a heist. The fact it matches up with yours means there is something there.”

“A detective’s intuition?” Kaito asked, amused. “I thought detectives focused more on facts.”

“Kuroba-kun—”

“But what do I know, I’m just a magician,” Kaito said, interrupting him. “Would you be interested in putting out more feelers?” Spade had a red jeweled eye that glowed in the dark. Possibly eyes. That meant something. Kaito wasn’t sure what yet, but he knew it meant something.

Pandora...what if—

“What?” Hakuba laughed. “Am I hearing this right? Are you trying to say that you actually want me to investigate?”

“It seems like you’re already doing that,” Kaito said. “Is it too much that I want to know what you find?”

He and Hakuba had that strange half friendship now, it was so odd. Things had been different, once upon a time. Kaito wasn't sure which one he preferred, and he still wasn't entirely sure he could trust Hakuba's motives.

“I’m still going to catch you with my own two hands,” Hakuba said.

“Don’t start that up again, I thought we’d already gotten past that,” Kaito said.

Hakuba laughed again. “For that reason, it’s strange that you would ask me to investigate, if I am so wrong.”

“You’re certain you’re not wrong, and that’s all that matters,” Kaito said. “Besides, you’ll never be able to catch Kid-sama in a million years.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Hakuba said. “In any case, yes. Surprisingly, I don’t have any qualms with sharing this information with you. Who knows? You may even be able to put it to good use. But Kuroba-kun...there were more gunmen at that heist.”

“So it’s been said,” Kaito said.

“Were they there for Spade or for Kid, I wonder?” Hakuba asked.

“Spade seemed to think they were there for him,” is all Kaito could say.

“But you and I both know better, don’t we, Kuroba-kun?” Hakuba said. Some rattling of paper, and he let out a hum. “Kid’s heists have had more and more gunmen these days,” Hakuba continued, “and we have the shoes to prove it. Seems a bit like overkill for one measly thief, doesn’t it?”

“Kid is anything but measly,” Kaito muttered, kicking his feet against the sofa.

“But that many against one,” Hakuba said. “Even someone as great as Kid would struggle, wouldn’t he?”

Kaito had struggled, damn it all. It was lucky no one had died. He didn't want yet another death on his conscience. Not after Nightmare. And Spade had stepped in front of a bullet for him. Kaito didn’t understand him, didn’t like him. Interfering and copying him like that. “He made it out alive and uninjured,” Kaito said noncommittally.

“Which in my opinion, is a very good thing. I can be certain, after all, that at least Kid doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Hakuba—”

“Don’t worry, Kuroba-kun. I’ll look into Spade and share my findings with you.”

“Thanks, Hakuba.”

“And Kuroba-kun?”

“Yeah?”

“...Take care of yourself.”

“Yeah. I will.”

-

“You’re an idiot of herculean proportions,” Haibara said, snapping some gloves on and jabbing at Shinichi’s wound with medical grade forceps, attempting to extract the bullet.

“Ouch! Hey! That hurts!” Shinichi said, flailing.

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you got shot,” Haibara said, jabbing at his wound again.

“Just because I can’t die, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt!” Shinichi said irritably, gripping the arm of the sofa as she kept prodding.

“And just because you can’t die, doesn’t mean you step in front of bullets,” Haibara said. “Why did I think you’d be reasonable about this?”

“I couldn’t just let him get shot!” Shinichi said.

“I know you couldn’t. Idiot,” Haibara said. She sighed, and then pulled out the bullet. “I found it, tricky little bastard.” She put it in a bag. “The wound should close now. And you shouldn’t cough up another bullet,” she said, gesturing to the other one, also in a little plastic bag. “Though I think that one is the one that killed you,” she said, narrowing her eyes at it.

“It’s insulting to think such a small caliber killed me,” Shinichi said, scowling. He ignored her hands. Shinichi was getting used to the pain.

“That’s because you suffocated in your own blood,” Haibara said, sighing again. “We’ll have to retool the suit. It should have stopped this caliber. I already spoke to the doctor about it.” She cut a look at him out of the corner of her eye. “And about adding idiot protection.”

“Hey, hey,” Shinichi said, but it didn’t have any heat in it. “Haibara, do you know if the inspector made it out alright?”

She nodded. “My contact at the hospital said he was just fine.”

Good. “When I saw him go down, I knew I had to get him out of there. I’m glad Kid was willing to listen,” Shinichi said.

“You say that like he hasn’t gone out of his way to help us before,” Haibara said, continuing to clean his wound, but far more gently this time. “He’s deceptively kind.”

“I wish it hadn’t turned out like that, but at least no one died,” Shinichi said. He looked out the window, eyes growing distant. “It bothers me though. We knew going in that there’d be armed guards, but nothing like that. And I was expecting someone from the organization. Who was that guy?”

“Ah. The Karasuma corporation doesn’t have a copyright on dressing in black. It could be that they’re completely unrelated.”

Shinichi nodded, turning back to her. “If we can track the cosmic resonance, so can they.” Shinichi stroked his chin. “And you said that a lot of people were after it.”

“Yes. The Pandora myth is a popular one. Imagine a criminal enterprise, headed by one man, in perpetuity.”

“I’d really rather not, if it’s all the same to you,” Shinichi said. That kind of power consolidation, especially if they couldn’t be killed, was monstrous and terrible. The amount of harm they could do...the thought chilled him. “Ugh. That heist was a disaster.”

“It could have been worse,” Haibara said. She pinched the bridge of her nose, then grimaced when she realized she was still wearing gloves and had touched her nose with her blood-soaked hands. She cleaned herself with an alcohol wipe.

“It could have been better,” Shinichi said. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible. Obviously, they felt threatened by the dual prospects of both Spade and Kid. “Next time won’t be like that.”

Haibara bopped him on the head with an empty paper towel roll. “Just saying that won’t make it happen.”

Shinichi frowned. “Then I’ll do better.” He leaned forward. “The Centenary diamond did have some residue, enough to register on the sword.”

“It’s good to know it does what it’s supposed to do. Unfortunately, we have no way of scanning gems on a large scale.”

“It would make our search easier, but it’s good to know I was on the right path. All that means is finding another diamond that was originally part of that millennial show.”

“Are you certain that you want to do that?” Haibara said, finishing her ministrations on his gunshot. “Won’t that lead them right to you? Or at least, tell them what you’re trying to do?”

Shinichi blinked. “You’re right. I’ll find something else to target, though I highly doubt it will have anything to do with Pandora.” He tapped on his phone screen a few times and turned it around. “Here. This was part of the exhibit under the Millennium Dome.”

“The Millennium Star?” It was a large pear cut diamond, about palm sized, slightly smaller than the Centenary Diamond.

"Yes. If my deduction is correct, it will have the same reading as the Centenary." Shinichi let out a thoughtful noise. "I also think it's suspicious that all these are entering Japan near the same time. "

Her computer pinged, and she took off her bloody gloves, discarding them. "Here," Haibara said, turning the small table with the laptop around. "I think this should be your next heist."

"A carbonado diamond," Shinichi said. "The Spirit of de Grisogono." It was a large black mogul cut diamond set into a ring, surrounded by hundreds of smaller white diamonds.

"It seems fitting, what with your theme, and it's large enough to be a grand gem. It's on loan to a Suzuki Jirokichi exhibit, that should be fun for you."

"Suzuki?" Shinichi said faintly. He wasn't sure he was ready to see Ran or Sonoko again. He and Sonoko didn't always get along well, but they were friends too, of sorts.

And it hurt to think that he wouldn't be able to see them anytime soon. Not personally. Not until Aeterna was out of his system and the black organization was gone. Gin had driven home with a bullet what kind of danger he was in.

She closed the laptop. "We can worry about that later." She took a brief detour to the kitchen and came back with wine glasses and some grape juice, pouring both her and Shinichi a glass. "Right now, let's celebrate. We're both alive. Everyone survived. To Spade," She said, holding up her glass.

"To Spade," Shinichi said, tapping his glass against hers and they both drank.

It wasn't much of a celebration, but it was theirs. They'd survived, and lived to upset those with ill intentions once more.

That was a worthy victory.

[6]

On the night where fell ten thousand stars,

One lone blackened jewel hit the earth.

I'll twirl a dance across the promenade

When the Bell Tree sounds over the wharf

and lead the jewel to dark rebirth.

Spade Doodle

スペード ♤

Shinichi awoke with bees buzzing under his skin, feeling restless and uneasy, his shoulder aching dully, mixing with the ache in his chest.

He had to get out. He couldn’t take being cooped up in the apartment anymore. He grabbed the spare key and some money and left, leaving Haibara a note.

The worst thing about all this, Shinichi reflected, was the absence of his peace of mind. Oh, of course on some level he knew he was in danger before, but he’d never fully grasped the danger of the situation he was in. Not until that bullet hit his lung, he’d smothered in his own blood, and he had woken up in a body bag.

Shinichi let out a slow breath. The paranoia would kill him before the organization managed to a second time. Even something as simple as going to the store to get food became a nightmare of misheard footsteps and shadows in the corner of his eyes. Of course outwardly he didn’t display any of that, he had become too good of an actor, but it definitely affected him.

He didn't dare go outside with his bare face. He scoffed at himself. Haibara had tried to teach him caution for years, but he had only learned it now after it was too late to do anything about it.

Touching the still tender bullet wound—well, the new one—maybe he hadn’t really learned caution.

But he couldn’t let Kid get shot. Not under his watch, not when he could do anything about it, not from a situation he had created. He paid for his things and left, walking to the stop and waiting on the bus.

“I’m telling you! It’s the ghost of Kudō Shinichi!”

Shinichi looked up, tensing at the sound of his name, clutching his groceries to his chest.

Ahead of him were two girls dressed in Teitan High School’s summer uniforms, pale yellow sleeveless sweater over white shirt and green tie, with a blue skirt. He didn’t recognize them, so they must be new first years. They certainly knew him, though.

“There’re no such things as ghosts, Akiko,” her friend said, annoyed.

“Nakamura saw them!”

“Nakamura is a huge ditz.”

“He came bursting out of the stage, straight out of the depths of hell!” Akiko said, waving her hands around to imitate flames.

“Now you’re just being fanciful,” said her friend. “I know you had a crush on Kudō-senpai, but this is really disrespectful, geez.” She poked her friend in the shoulder.

“It’s not disrespectful! It’s the truth! Besides, didn’t you hear about what happened? Someone stole his body!”

Shinichi stiffened.

“What? No way!” her friend said.

“So his soul is trapped and angry at him being disrespected, and so he’s forced to haunt the mortal plane, searching for his body!” Akiko made ghost motions with her hands.

“But why would he haunt Teitan, that doesn’t make any sense!”

“It’s not just Teitan! My cousin went to that diamond thing, that one at the Beika Museum of Natural History, and Kudō was there too! Calling himself Spade, and gliding across the room in a burst of flowers and feathers.”

Their conversation paused as they entered the bus.

They….they thought his body was stolen? Shinichi shifted his bag and scratched his head. Ha, well, he supposed that was the conclusion that made sense. And it was better than the organization thinking he was alive, He uh, just hadn’t thought about it. And maybe he should have used something else other than Spade?

Shinichi sat down next to the girls, resting his bag in his lap.

“No way,” her friend said, elbowing her.

“Yeah, ask anyone! That one, at least, is all over the papers, so you don’t even have to take my word for it. Look!” Akiko jabbed her phone in her friend’s direction.

Shinichi fought not to crane his neck over, and instead looked at his own phone. He entered in a few keywords and searched for himself.

‘NEW THIEF SPADE STEALS GEM’ blasted him from several news sources, and sure enough, as he clicked on the article, he was greeted with a high quality photo of himself, right at the point of entrance, surrounded by a swirl of black petals.

It was pretty, and totally worth sourcing and smuggling in that many tulips. He really couldn’t see that Spade looked like him, not with the make-up and additional facial prosthetics, but the very principle of misdirection was that people saw what they wanted to see.

For people familiar with the festival play, Shinichi supposed that meant they’d see him in Spade no matter what. He supposed it was a very good thing he was officially dead.

He wondered if they’d had the wake without his parents, and if so, who had arranged it. He thought of the cremation room he'd passed and shivered. Shinichi wasn’t particularly religious, but he’d experienced death, and come out on the other side with a body that couldn’t die. He wondered then, if that meant he’d be eternally stagnant, never being able to leave it and be reborn or achieve enlightenment. He didn’t hold much stock in either of those things, but. It was only human to fear the unknown, and he had no memories between closing those eyes in the rubble and waking up in the mortuary.

Shinichi inhaled deeply, held it for a few seconds, and let it out slowly. Something to worry about later.

He left the bus and walked home. He entered Haibara’s apartment and put away the things, stopping only to cook himself a quick meal. He ate mindlessly, the food tasting like ash, and went over their slapdash heist plans.

The Suzuki Promenade, a series of parks and businesses right on Tokyo Bay was displaying the Spirit of de Grisogono as part of their meteorite exhibit, since carbonado diamonds were thought to mostly come from meteors.

It was a good distraction; it was inside the Suzuki Gallery, a rotating event space next to a park. As a bonus, he’d sent the note for tomorrow, so it wasn’t exactly like anyone was going to check it today.

Leaving Haibara another note, he decided it’d be best if he were to take a look at it himself. Sure, Haibara and the professor had once again managed to get photos and blueprints (Shinichi privately thought that this was one of the buildings Agasa had helped design, actually), but Shinichi wanted to experience it for himself, get a feel for the place. Maybe then the heist would be more successful.

Haibara had warned against it, but she wasn’t here to stop him, so Shinichi felt free to do it. He shook his head at himself. Maybe he hadn't learned caution after all.

And he was tired of staying cooped up and hidden, to be honest. Paranoia be damned, he was going to go out and have some fun.

Anything to go outside for more than just the essentials.

He changed into a new disguise, black shorts and white undershirt under a pink shirt patterned with white palm fronds, redid his face so he’d look nothing like Shinichi or Spade, and took the Bay area bus line.

Shinichi let people surround him, and he just let himself be. Let the chatter wash over him and soothe him, let himself be a part of them but not of them. Watched people, their joys and their sorrows.

He laughed. His parents were right. Watching people was one of the best ways to learn writing, to learn acting. To learn people.

The stray thought pierced his heart, and he shook his head to clear it and put it out of his mind. He'd see them again, once he'd gotten rid of Pandora.

No, once his struggles against the organization were over. His parents were in danger every second Shinichi left the organization operating.

He took a deep breath. It was too bright and sunny a day to stay upset. Humidity was low, and the sky was a fantastic shade of blue.

The sun felt absolutely glorious on his skin as he stepped off the bus, and the breeze was light and balmy, carrying with it the scent of brine.

He came up to the gallery. It was more crowded than he anticipated, but not nearly as crowded as one of Kid's heists.

He queued for a bit, paid for his ticket after showing (fake) ID, and took a walk around the gallery.

Lots of uncut gems. Meteorites. Paintings of falling stars and celestial bodies. Beautiful. It made him think of rooftops for some reason, and of a white figure in the moonlight.

This was a good idea.

At least, that's what he thought until a voice distracted Shinichi from his observations of the paintings.

"Whaddya even call me down here for, anyway?" a loud Kansai dialect brayed.

"I just think someone should take a look at this new thief, that's all! Trying to intrude on Kid-sama's territory!" another very familiar voice said in a huff.

"I'm just saying thieves ain't exactly in my wheelhouse," Hattori said.

"Yeah, but you came down here anyway!"

"Yeah, because you paid for my ticket and I saw the papers like you did," Hattori said. "The nerve of that guy, disrespecting Kudō's memory."

Shinichi winced, grateful for the gel that tamed his unruly cowlick. He didn't think he'd be facing off against Hattori of all people. Detective versus detective was one thing, they were on the same side and after the same thing, but detective versus thief—

"He's not the only one," Sonoko said, much quieter. "The nerve of that place!"

"Sonoko, please," Ran begged, and Shinichi's heart leapt into his throat. "Not here, not now."

"Sorry, Ran," Sonoko said, sounding more contrite than Shinichi had ever heard her sound before.

"We should help his ghost rest in peace," Ran continued. "Talking about him isn't doing him any favors."

Shinichi couldn’t help but turn. They were clustered around the gem's display. All four of them—because Kazuha was there, too, clinging to Ran's arm—wore deep expressions of grief on their faces, even Sonoko, and he had to turn back around. He wanted more than anything to join them, he just…couldn't. He might have, before, but not now. Not after he—Shinichi swallowed. Touched the healing wound over his lung.

Coming here was a mistake. Haibara was right.

He'd leave.

Shinichi didn't run. He walked very casually away, hands in his pockets.

He hoped they didn't come tomorrow. If there were gunmen here, and they got caught in the crossfire, Shinichi didn't know what he'd do.

Nothing pretty either way.

He had to press on. This was just an unintended side effect; Shinichi had thought they'd just let him go. Spade could be anyone who was there that day, hundreds of people. Why would they necessarily think it was someone disrespecting him?

He stopped at the other end of the hall in front of a display of siderolites, meteorites that contained both stone and iron. At the center was a special type, made up of iron and gem quality peridot. It was backlit by the exhibit and beautiful.

Pandora, too, was a space gem of sorts, inner crystal contained by outer crystal, allegedly. Shinichi wondered what it looked like.

“You walked off in an awful hurry,” Hattori said conversationally, making Shinichi jump.

“I’m sorry?” Shinichi said, turning to look at him and blinking owlishly. His dark eyes were heavily lined in grief, and he wore a skull print shirt and jeans. He wasn't wearing his hat, which was unusual.

“I said, ‘You walked off in an awful hurry,’” Hattori repeated himself.

“Ah, hurry? No, I just didn't get a chance to see this display earlier. The gallery is busier than I expected.” Shinichi fought not to fidget.

“Yeah. That new thief dropped off an advance notice for tomorrow and got everyone a buzzing about it. Did a number on their numbers, though I heard the curator is ecstatic about ticket sales.” He slid his hands in his pockets, and sidled over, looking at Shinichi expectantly.

“I’m sorry?” Shinichi said again. “Who are you?”

“Hattori Heiji, detective.”

“You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

“Is it that obvious?” Hattori said with a laugh. “Yeah, I came down from Osaka.” He tapped the glass. “So are gems a particular hobby, or what?”

“Or what,” Shinichi said. “I like space. And these came from the core mantle of planetoids that collided. Look at the way the iron is interspersed almost seamlessly between the shards of peridot. It’s beautiful.”

“You know,” Hattori said. “I didn’t get your name.”

Fuck. “Oh, it’s ah, Aoyama Shinji.”

“With the characters for new and two?”

“Truth and two, actually,” Shinichi said. He was done with this interrogation five minutes ago. It took everything he had not to shift, antsy as he was. “Why? Yours seems pretty synonymous with upheaval. Goes with the way you like to interrogate strangers,” he said, irritation leaking out. But he thought it fit Hattori’s actions towards him. Anyone would be irritated. It would be more suspicious not to be. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but it really, really isn’t.”

“Eh, I’m just trying to be friendly,” Hattori said.

“If this is you trying to be friendly, I’d hate to see you when you’re deliberately trying to be rude.” It was nice, though, to speak to him again.

“Never figured you for the type to look at rocks, Kudō."

"Uh," Shinichi said, frozen.

Hattori grabbed his upper arm, close to the bullet wound. Shinichi couldn’t help his wince. "So I was right! Kudō, you got a lotta nerve!"

Shinichi put his finger in front of his lips, making a shushing noise. “Hattori, can we not do this here?”

“I got half a mind to march you over there and have you face the girls myself!”

“Please, please, Hattori, it’s important! Please,” Shinichi begged, grabbing his hand. “You know me. I wouldn’t do this unless I had no other choice,” he said, pulling Hattori along and into the men’s restroom, making sure it was empty before pulling him inside a stall. He unbuttoned his shirt, ignoring Hattori’s gasp, and ripped off the bandages.

Two gunshot wounds stared out from his torso like gruesome hollow eyes. The one in his shoulder—the bullet that had missed the arteries and had been stopped by bone. The one that killed him left a half-healed indentation, raw with scabs and newly grown muscle. “I was really dead, Hattori!” he said, low.

“Kudō—”

“Do you think I want to worry them with it, just to die again? I woke up in the morgue in a body bag!”

“They probably just missed your pulse—”

“You don’t wake up after three days, not after flatlining,” Shinichi hissed.

Hattori pulled Shinichi to him, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. Shinichi held him back, grateful for his presence. "It's good to see you, Kudō," he said, and his voice was wet.

Shinichi ignored his tears, letting him keep his pride. "They killed me, Hattori. If they knew I was alive—"

"Yeah," Hattori agreed, his voice still rough.

"I don't want anyone else to get hurt," Shinichi said. "I don't know what I'd do if they got any one of you."

The door opened, and Shinichi went quiet. Hattori followed. He let go of him, and it was an awkward couple of minutes breathing in silence together before the person left.

“How are you still alive?” Hattori asked.

“It’s a long story, Hattori,” Shinichi said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I got nothing but time. It got anything to do with why you’re a gem thief now?”

“Why I’m—what? Hattori, I’m not.”

“And I ain’t stupid, Spade,” Hattori said, poking him in the chest.

Shinichi winced. “That really hurts, you know. Can’t you be gentle?”

“I don’t think you deserve gentle,” Hattori said, annoyed. He poked him again, this time closer to the wound.

Shinichi groaned in pain. “Please stop messing with my hole.”

Someone cleared their throat.

Shinichi blushed. They waited until he finished his business and left. Shinichi hadn’t even heard him come in.

“I really shouldn’t talk about it here,” Shinichi says. “I don’t know if it’s safe. The girls are probably missing you by now. You should go.”

“Kudō—”

“I’ll make time to talk to you tomorrow after, okay?” Shinichi said, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Be there.”

“I’m taking a lot on faith, Shin-ji,” Hattori said.

“Be patient and I’ll tell you, alright?” Shinichi said, digging his fingers into his skin, trying to make him understand.

“I’ll wait. But you better have some good answers tomorrow night,” Hattori said, poking him in the chest again.

“Hey,” Shinichi said irritably. “Please stop doing that, it hurts.”

“Yeah, I just had to get the last one in. That’s so creepy,” Hattori said, giving a mock shiver.

“Yeah? You try living it,” Shinichi said.

Hattori made to leave.

“Hattori,” Shinichi said. “Don’t tell anyone.”

He nodded, and left the stall.

Shinichi gave him a couple minutes, and then he left, too, disappearing back into the crowd and making sure to stay far away from the people he used to know.

[7]

“So why’d you drag me out here again?” Kaito asked, looking at the Kid Task Force scurrying about around the Spirit of de Grisogono. The heist would start soon. Every night at ten o’clock sharp, the Suzuki Promenade rang a bell sound notifying everyone the stores were closed.

“You know why. I need a magician’s perspective,” Hakuba said. What he was really saying is that he wanted Kid’s perspective. To be fair, Kaito didn’t mind. It gave him an excuse to scout out his alleged rival. To have another heist so soon after he’d been shot...Kaito didn’t know what the man was thinking. Or how he was even well enough to have another heist so soon. But Kaito figured without Kid there, they wouldn’t have incentive to bring gunmen.

Which was a good thing because Aoko bounced up beside him and looped her arm around his, smiling. Not to be deterred, Akako did the same thing on the other side. Kaito half expected Hakuba to bound up beside him and, he didn’t know, wrap his arms around his neck or something. “Ah, I am so glad we can do these things together!” Aoko said. “Kid detective club, go!”

“But we’re not investigating Kid this time,” Kaito pointed out.

“A phantom thief is a phantom thief!” Aoko said.

“If you say so,” Kaito said, rolling his eyes.

“Oooo, there it is!” Aoko said, pointing at the case with the ring in it. “Dad! Dad!”

“Aoko,” Inspector Nakamori said, sounding a bit taken aback. “Kaito-kun. Hakuba-kun. And,” he trailed off, looking at Akako expectantly.

She curtsied instead of bowing. “Koizumi Akako,” she said.

Inspector Nakamori inclined his head. “Akako-san. What are you all doing here?”

“A new phantom thief naturally has caused a stir, sir,” Hakuba said. “We came to see if we could help in any way.”

“Hmph. You can stay, Hakuba-kun, if you agree to a bulletproof vest, but everyone else stays out of the way when it starts, got it?”

“Yes Dad!” Aoko said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kaito said.

“What about them?” Akako asked, gesturing nearby.

Kaito looked over. Another group of teenagers stood clustered in a half circle with that sleepy detective guy; his daughter, the heiress and—Kaito winced. The Osakan couple.

Inspector Nakamori scowled. “Old Man Suzuki wants them here, I can’t do anything about it.”

Just then, the dark-skinned fellow caught sight of Hakuba. “YOU!” he snarled. “What are you doin’ here, Hakubastard?”

“Hattori Heiji-kun. I’d say it’s pleasant seeing you again, but that would be an obvious lie,” Hakuba said, curling his lip.

Kaito looked between the two of them, barely hiding a grin. Interesting. Kaito had long thought Hakuba disliked him, but this was another level altogether. In retrospect, Hakuba might not dislike him as much as he had thought previously if this was his reaction to someone he truly disliked.

“Hmph,” Hattori said.

“Spade faced off against Kid,” Kaito said, stepping forward, “so we wanted to see him in action.” Hattori glanced in his direction, and his brow furrowed into deep thought as soon as he saw Kaito.

“We’re the Kid Detective Club,” Aoko said.

“Maybe we should change it to the Phantom Thieves’ Detective Club for accuracy,” Akako said.

“Hakuba-san!” the Mōri girl said, having come over to see what everything was about.

“Ran-san,” Hakuba said politely, inclining his head. “A pleasure.”

“Oh, wow, you’re hot,” Suzuki said, looking Hakuba up and down.

Hakuba blushed. “Thank you?” he said, unsure.

Mōri was pointedly ignoring looking at Kaito, and Kaito wondered what he did, while Suzuki kept sneaking glances at him.

Introductions were made, and eventually Suzuki pulled the two girls over for some “talk,” leaving the three of them standing by the black diamond ring display pedestal in frosty silence.

Well, the two of them in frosty silence. Kaito was just there, to be honest. Standing awkwardly between glaciers.

"Shouldn't you be back in England eating crumpets and drinking tea?" Hattori said.

"I don't know, shouldn't you be stuffing your face with okonomiyaki in Osaka?" Hakuba sniped back, face perfectly expressionless.

Kaito fidgeted. "Shouldn't we be focusing on Spade, actually?" He was then the recipient of two sharp glares, so he scratched the back of his head and said, "Hakuba, you wanted my opinion."

Hakuba nodded.

Kaito gestured to the statue of the Pleiades, seven sisters who made up a star cluster northwest of Taurus. "He'll probably enter from here. It's life size, a good place to hide before he enters center stage."

"Yeah, and what makes you qualified to say? You a teen detective, too?" Hattori asked.

"Teen magician, actually. It's quite similar to one of my father's tricks," he said.

"Uh huh," Hattori said, clearly skeptical.

Okay, meeting him as Kaito, he might be siding more with Hakuba on this one. Not to mention that one time when he’d dressed as his—Kaito winced again.

“So it’s not just me,” Hakuba said. “You have that effect on everyone you meet, Hattori-kun.”

“Hmph.”

Yeah, definitely siding with Hakuba on this one. But if it were all the same, he'd leave them to it. It felt strange not being the center of Hakuba's antagonism for once. (He was discounting, of course, that he gave as good as he got, only now they were in a strange half friendship.)

It was thirty minutes to the start of the heist, and Kaito scanned the crowd, looking for anyone with the same body shape as Spade.

The crowd was even bigger than it was last time, though still not the size of some of Kid's, Kaito thought, smug. Still too crowded to get a full read of the room.

The gallery had a small half level, and Kaito climbed it to get a better view on the diamond. He could approach from here, too, but Kaito kept that to himself. Slightly because it would be a little more difficult, and slightly because Hattori and Hakuba were still arguing back and forth in a way that said they both enjoyed it.

Weirdos.

"Great news!" Kaito heard. "Everyone can stay!" Suzuki Sonoko's voice carried through the hall. Kaito leapt over the railing and jumped down to see what was going on.

"Absolutely not!" Nakamori said. “Especially not you, Aoko."

"And why not?” Suzuki Jirokichi’s loud voice boomed. The man tugged at his moustache.

“There was gunfire at Spade’s last heist—” Nakamori began.

“Nonsense!” old man Suzuki barked. “My security won’t let any of that happen!” He harrumphed. “Besides, you worry too much! You’re here, aren’t you?” He waved his hand around, then slapped Nakamori on the back. “Have more faith in yourself and in your men.” Then he clapped his hand on Hakuba’s shoulder. “Besides, these two boys are detectives and I think you need all the help you can get, eh Inspector?”

“Dad, you and Kaito and Hakuba-kun are here. I know you all won’t let anything happen to me. So can we stay, please?”

Nakamori wavered.

“Pretty please, Dad?” Aoko clasped her hands in front of her, eyes wide. “I’d like to stay with my new friends.”

Nakamori’s lip twitched. “Oh, all right. But you make sure you get out of here at the first sign of trouble, you hear me?”

“Thanks, Dad!” Aoko said, and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. Then she went back to the other three, jabbering excitedly.

“And you all stay behind a member of the Task Force at all times!” he called after her.

Well, Kaito supposed he was glad she was having fun.

It was almost time.

At exactly 22:00, fog creeped in. Kaito seemed to be the only one who noticed it as it curled around his feet. The off smell of dry ice. A loud crash, and a tinkling noise, like someone bursting through glass and the sound of chimes. Kaito half expected more flower petals, but not tonight, it seemed.

No, tonight was for high school level theater effects, apparently.

"Tonight, I come down from the heavens to take my prize," Spade's voice reverberated through the room loud and deep and imposing. Kaito's perfect ear could pick out the slightly tinny sound of a speaker.

Microphone, then.

Curling around the fog was black smoke, bitter and insidious, and even expecting something, Kaito took a step back.

A whirl of black feathers, and Spade appeared as if by magic on top of the case, even to Kaito's eyes. Annoying that Kaito couldn’t tell his direction, in the end.

He drew his sword and slashed downward, and though it didn't hit the glass case, it fell apart, the alarm dying a quick death before it could even be sounded, and rolled, sliding the ring onto the middle finger of his left hand.

His sword didn't glow this time.

"Oh no," Hattori said. "You must be crazy if you think I'm just gonna let you leave with the ring." The detective's hand clenched around the hilt of a wooden sword.

Spade tilted his head. "A challenger approaches?" He did a backflip, light as air, cape flowing behind him, and stood in a wide stance, sword held low and pointed down in a ready position.

"Oh, you ain't thinking what I think you're thinking, are you, you crazy thief?" Hattori did the same, wide grin on his face.

"A duel of East versus West?" Spade said.

"East versus West, huh?" Hattori's grin grew.

Spade flipped his cape behind his shoulder. "To see whose form of swordplay is better, of course."

"Winner takes the jewel?" Hattori asked.

"Naturally," Spade said with a bow and a flourish.

"You're on!" Hattori said, and leapt forward.

Spade brought his sword up in an easy, lazy block, countering Hattori's strike with almost preternatural ease. "You're going to have to do better than that to get past my guard, samurai."

Hattori followed with a low sweep of his blade, causing Spade to jump. "Oh yeah? Well I certainly ain't seeing anything special from you, Knight."

They both met each other blow for blow, neither one giving an inch. Kaito only had the barest inkling of swordplay, but even Kaito could see that the both of them were trained in their art. They met in blow after blow, and it was beautiful.

Spade favored heavy handed strikes, meant for a heavier blade, whereas Hattori’s were more graceful, sweeping.

One of the members of the Task Force moved forward, into the path of the battle and Hattori threw out his hand.

“This is a sacred duel between men. Don’t interfere,” he said. “I’ll get the ring back.”

Kaito couldn’t help the scoff that escaped, but the Task Force listened, and they formed a cordon in the middle, circling around the two as the two circled each other, probing each other’s guard for weaknesses.

Spade rushed in, charging Hattori with a heavy swing that glanced off his sword. “That ain’t gonna work, I’m a championship swordsman.”

Spade followed it with a graceful sweep of his own. “You are a braggart, aren’t you?” He kicked out, and Hattori’s eyes widened in surprise, and he jumped back.

“So it was just words after all,” Spade mused, pressing his advantage hard. “What a pity.” He assailed Hattori with blow after blow, forcing him back and back to the broken pedestal.

Hattori snarled. “I’ll show you words!” He brought his sword down in an overhead strike, and Spade was forced to twirl out of the way. Another sideways strike and Spade was the one that was losing ground. Attack after attack, and Spade was tiring faster than Hattori was, his endurance not quite the same, though their strength was on par.

When the next attack ended with Spade’s swordpoint at Hattori’s stomach and Hattori’s wooden sword at Spade’s neck, the phantom thief grinned and stepped back, sheathing his blade. Hattori stepped back as well, sword hanging loosely from his hand at his side. “Very well,” he said, removing the ring from his hand. He tossed the ring back at Hattori with a sharp, powerful throw. “Your prize, samurai.”

Hattori caught it with a hard smack to his hand. It had to have hurt, by the sound, but he didn’t even wince. Kaito could respect that.

Spade turned his back to Hattori, facing Nakamori. “I don’t suppose you’ll just let me leave,” he asked.

Inspector Nakamori shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, no.”

“Not even if I’m the reason you’re getting a bonus in gold this fair evening?” he asked.

Nakamori turned red, mouth opening and shutting without words at the audacity of Spade’s.

Kaito actually laughed out loud. He did have to respect his fellow thief’s bravado. This whole heist was a spectacle. Could it even be termed a heist? Kaito had to investigate every gem under the moonlight, but Spade didn’t even bother doing that. It was like he was some kind of theater major that just wanted to, Kaito didn’t know, yank the police’s chain. Kaito could respect that too, if he had to be honest. Spade did have style, and seeing him without the worry of Snake and his circle of gem thieves, Kaito could admit he even liked it.

Well.

Maybe just a little.

“No?” Spade said, voice faux aghast. “Very well. I will take my leave from all of you, then.”

A swirl of black feathers. The twirl of Spade’s cape as he laughed and spun in a circle.

A bright flash and a burst of smoke.

The lights cut out, and though they cut back on after a twenty second delay because of backup generators, Spade was already gone.

Or he’d blended back into the crowd, Kaito thought, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t even have a chance to see if he could detect him by his glowing eye.

Hakuba walked up to the sweating Hattori, clapping him on the shoulder. “Well, I suppose you’re not entirely useless.”

Hattori laughed. Surprisingly, it didn’t sound bitter. “Oh yeah, sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence, you bastard.”

Hakuba inclined his head. “For you? Any time.”

Tōyama Kazuha came running up, throwing her arms around Hattori. “Wow!” she gushed. “I always thought you were kind of annoying, but that was really cool, you.”

“Do you gotta be so familiar?” Hattori groaned, but his dark skin flushed darker.

“Hey, I’m tryna give you a compliment, dummy!” she said.

“Well that ain’t the way you give a compliment, stupid!” Hattori said.

“I see you also have that sort of charm with the ladies,” Hakuba said. Kaito privately agreed.

“How interesting,” Akako purred, slinking up to Kaito, devious intent on her face.

Kaito tensed up, backing away slowly, but she merely stood to the side of him.

She looked up at him, almost demure, but then a sultry smirk crossed her face, and she giggled behind her hand. “Did you notice?” she asked him.

Kaito blinked. “Notice what?”

“Ohohoho~” Akako giggled again. “How very interesting! You didn’t!”

“Akako, I don’t have time for your games,” Kaito said, irritated.

“You are searching for something, no?” She looked out towards the window of the Gallery. “It seems that what you find may not be exactly what you seek.” She tapped her finger against her lip. “I wonder what you will do then?”

“You. Being cryptic and unhelpful. How usual,” Kaito said.

“Well, I certainly found my meaning perfectly plain,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Spade is someone who will definitely hold your interest, regardless of whether or not you would like him to. He is someone worth watching.”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t call this a heist. This was a spectacle,” Kaito said, crossing his arms. “No stealing. Just theatrics. Definitely nowhere near the level of Kid.”

“And yet, you seem almost defensive of that fact,” she said. “And you’re here tonight. Spade must interest you in some fashion, no?”

Kaito thought of a body stepping in front of him, arm and cape outstretched. Thought of red eyes glowing in the darkness on their own, of a soft smile, and a silly sword fight and graceful acceptance of defeat.

“No,” Kaito said. “Outside of Kid-sama, I’m not interested in phantom thieves.”

-

Ah! It felt good to be out of his mask. Meeting Hattori at the Danny’s in the middle of the night might not be the best idea, but honestly, Shinichi was still riding the high of a successful distraction from his main goals. He checked the table for bugs; they were the only ones in the twenty-four hour restaurant aside from the staff, so he felt pretty comfortable.

“Alright, ‘Spade.’ You wanna give me the lowdown?” Hattori asked after the server had placed his soda and karaage and Shinichi’s coffee and omurice down. He’d prefer ice coffee, but he needed the warmth.

“I’m surprised you were this patient,” Shinichi said, blinking.

“And what’s with the bright floral print shirts and the flip flops and the bermuda shorts?” Hattori asked, curling his nose at Shinichi’s pink shirt with cream-colored plumerias on it.

Shinichi waved his hands. “Disguise!” he said.

Hattori put his face in his hands. “And you didn’t tell me you could hold your own in a swordfight. I went easy on you, but you weren’t bad.”

“Hey, I made you work a little,” Shinichi said, offended.

“A little,” Hattori admitted, and Shinichi was gratified. “You’ve had training.”

“Some. I learned it in Hawaii!” he said.

“And I guess that’s where you also got your idea for disguise. That’s more eye-catching than anything.”

“That’s the point,” Shinichi said. “Who’d associate this with the Black Knight?”

“What’s gotten into you?” Hattori asked, setting his soda down and leaning over the table, arms crossed.

“One guess,” Shinichi said.

“It’s related to your little problem, eh?”

Shinichi nodded. “Yeah. It’s called the Aeterna compound. Coupled with the cure, it’s why I’m like this.” He cupped the warm coffee in his hands, inhaling it. It calmed him down a little.

“It doesn’t explain the moonlighting.”

“Yeah. So there’s this gem, right? Called Pandora. Under a specific sort of cosmic radiation, it’s supposed to bleed the elixir of life.”

“Get out,” Hattori said. “You ain’t one for superstition, and that sounds awfully like a philosopher’s stone.”

Shinichi played with the handle of his cup. “I’m here, aren’t I?” He took a long sip of coffee, and then cleared his throat. “I’m here. That’s enough for me. That sword is calibrated to light up in proximity to very specific parameters of radiation. And uh, it’s glowed before.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Oh, I wish. When I was doing research after my first encounter with Kid, a group of thieves attacking an exhibition at the old Millennium Dome caught my attention, and if you follow the sales as much as you can, they line up with a disturbing amount of criminal activity in the same region, after. I’m not doing this because I want to.”

“Well, you certainly looked like you were having fun.”

“Ah. This one in particular didn’t technically need to happen. It was to distract them from my real targets. No gunmen. This is why I could have fun.” It hurt a little less, seeing his best friends again. Maybe because he wanted to tell her. But Ran...she was still his best friend, even after they’d broken up, and here he was, hurting her again. Hurting Hattori again because he was terrible at lying to someone’s face. “Hattori, I need you to keep everyone away from my next one.” He rubbed his most recent gunshot wound. “I’ll survive, but you might not.”

“I’ll do what I can. But Kudō—” Hattori bit his lip, visibly and uncharacteristically anxious. “You can’t do this alone.”

Shinichi reached across the table and squeezed his hand before letting go. “I’m not. We’re searching for a cure, and when I get it, I’m going after the organization again, no holds barred. Please don’t get involved. Not for my sake. Not for Kazuha’s.”

“You’re asking me to stay away while you throw yourself in danger night after night? That ain’t my style, Kudō.”

“I’m not asking you to like it, I’m asking you to respect it,” Shinichi said.

“At least take the group down before you find the cure,” Hattori said. “I kind of want to keep your ugly mug around.”

Shinichi laughed. “I’ll do what I can.” He slid a small piece of paper over. “Here’s a spare email. We can write to each other in the drafts, it’s much harder to track. We can keep in contact that way. Memorize it, then burn it.”

Hattori nodded.

“Hey Hattori?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Hattori threw down some money and got up to leave. “And Kudō?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry. I ain't gonna say nothing.”

Shinichi’s heart felt full. “Thanks.”