Windfall
By Ysabet
Chapter 4: Growing Pains
Everybody knows
It hurts to grow up,
And everybody does…
(It's so weird to be back here.)
Let me tell you what:
The years go on, and
We're still fighting it, we're still fighting it…
You'll try and try-- and one day you'll fly away from me…
(Ben Folds, ‘Still Fighting It’)
“NO.”
“Ayumi-kun?
Please, Ayumi-kun?” *GOD, she’s stubborn…..*
“No.”
“But… but
Ayumi, this is really important—“ *… and I’m going to be the world’s first grey-haired
eight-year-old if I don’t find out who the hell you’ve been talking to…*
“No.”
“Oh c’monnnnn… Rin
said you understood about how much we’re going to be depending on your
keeping our secret—we can’t just forget that some guy we’ve never even *met*
knows all about us—can’t you just tell us his name?” *Aaaargh!! C’MON now—you don’t want me to die of
frustration, do you? Huh?*
“NO.
I promised. A Promise Is A
Promise.”
“But—but-- Rin, YOU talk to her!” *I
have a headache; a really, really big headache.
And it has friends, and I think they’re all coming over to visit and
hold a party in my cerebellum. @#$%!! Padded room, here I come…..*
“…Ayumi? Ayumi-chan? Please… we’re not mad or anything—we’re just
worried and we need to know who your friend is…
If he said anything about this
to the wrong people, we could be in so much trouble and not even know it, and
you might be as well—remember? Please,
Ayumi-kun, just tell us his name?”
“No.”
*…..sigh…..*
They were on
the way back to Ayumi’s apartment building, threading their way between the late
afternoon crowds and sidewalk traffic.
Genta and Mitsuhiko had parted ways with them a block or so earlier, and
Conan and Rin were doing their so-far-futile utmost to pry the name of Ayumi’s
juggling teacher from her lips.
So far, no way. ‘A Promise Is A Promise.’
Conan stole
a sideways look at the little girl, whose outthrust lower lip indicated her
stubborn refusal to yield. In a way, he
supposed wryly that this was reassuring;
if she could keep *this* a secret, then their own was more likely safe than
not.
Hell of a
pain, though; they NEEDED to find out
the damned man’s name! *Ayumi-kun….. He could be anybody; he could even be a
member of the Black Organization—maybe they’ve figured things out, maybe they
know where I am, Oh God, maybe they’re biding their time and plotting to kill
*everybody* connected with me, maybe-----
No; no. That’s your paranoia
talking, Kudo; get a grip.* He wiped
a droplet of sweat from the bridge of his nose as his glasses slid a little ways
down; avoiding a head-level elbow from a passing adult (and shooting them a
bad-mood-induced dirty look), Conan stepped in a little from the curb and tried
a new tactic: Bargaining and/or Outright
Bribery.
“Ayumi-kun…..
Look. I realize you made a promise,
and I know you want to keep it….. but we *have*
to talk to this guy. If you tell us his
name, I swear I won’t yell at him or get him in trouble or anything like that—and
I’ll… uh, I’ll… I’ll lend you my
skateboard for a week.” He swallowed a
pang of regret as he held up the skateboard, determinedly focusing on the
problem at hand; he would never
have believed Ayumi could be so damned stubborn with her friends.
They walked
on a few more yards while the girl considered his offer; after a moment or so
she stuck her chin out belligerently, refusing to meet his eyes (thought she
cast a wistful look or two at the skateboard).
“NO. You’re trying to BRIBE me
and that’s *wrong*, you TOLD me so—back when we found that bad guy who set fire
to his house for the insurance money, remember?
He bribed his neighbors to say he hadn’t been home for a couple of
days….. Bribes are *bad*. That’s cheating.” She tilted her nose up, staring straight
ahead with a miffed look on her young face; on her other side Rin stifled a
snicker despite her concern.
Conan rolled
his eyes. “Ayumi-kunnnnnn…….
Please!........ Okay, two weeks! Well?”
Now Rin
rolled her eyes. “Conan-kun—“ she said warningly; she could
tell that the other girl had had enough.
They were in
front of her apartment building now, and the child paused before the entrance
with a distinctly annoyed look on her face. “NO. Now you just listen to me, Conan-kun!” Hands on hips, she stared him right in the
eye from the second step up to the doorway, her slight natural advantage of
height (*Crap—I hate being short!*)
coupled with the step’s few inches to allow her to loom just a little. “You want me to keep *your* secret,
right? Well, I *will*!! And if somebody was trying to bribe me to
tell all about you being a grownup kid, you’d want me to not say anything,
right? Right!”
Ayumi
crossed her arms and scowled horribly down at him; he stepped back a little,
eyes wide. “So don’t try and make me
tell you something I shouldn’t— I promised
Hei-san I wouldn’t, and I—MMMPHH!!!”
She stopped
mid-sentence, hands suddenly clasped over her mouth; Conan paused, an arrested
look on his face….. changing slowly to completely horrified dismay…..
“’Hei-san’??
‘HEI-SAN’??
Oh… no…..” His whisper trailed off into a muttered
string of words that made Rin thump him on the back of his head with her
knuckles. “Ow!”
“Well then,
don’t say things like that or
I’ll—I’ll wash your mouth out with soap!”
Even in his
agitation this made him snort briefly with laughter; he shot her an amused
glance, straightening the glasses that her thump had knocked askew. “You can’t—we’re the same size now, baka.”
“Then I’ll
tell my Okaasan and *she’ll* do
it—you know she will. In fact, she’d
probably enjoy it.” Rin grinned in
triumph at his flinch of defeat.
During this
little exchange Ayumi had been standing there, still as a statue; her wide eyes
shifted back and forth from one to the other of her friends as if watching a
ping-pong match. “I said his name…. I
broke my promise!!” The sentence
dissolved into a wordless wail as the child burst into tears, plumping down
abruptly onto the steps.
“Oh,
Ayumi-chan, no, no, it’s okay…..” Ran knelt down in front of her and hugged the
little girl tightly; “You didn’t mean to—we both heard you, it just slipped
out!”
Her friend’s
words were broken into hardly understandable pieces by her tears; “…but…(sniffle) won’t be able…(gulp, sob)… keep your secret if… (sniffle,
wipe eyes with back of hand)… can’t even keep quiet about his name…”
This was followed by a fresh outbreak, and Rin glared up at Conan as if
it had entirely been his fault.
He shifted
uneasily, wondering what to do, what to say; even when he had been Kudo
Shinichi another person’s tears had totally incapacitated him. Ran had always been able to get away with anything if she cried at him when they
were kids….. “Uh—uh, Ayumi-kun? I’m… sorry…
It’s just that we really need
to talk to him. And besides,” he set his
jaw a little grimly, a somewhat steely look entering into his dark blue eyes
and making them flash, “I’m fairly sure I *know* this… Hei-san.” He tilted his head a little to one side. “He doesn’t look a thing like Hei-san the janitor from school, does he?” *He
wouldn’t, if he’s really--*
Still
sniffling, Ayumi looked up and shook her head.
“Nooooo… He doesn’t sound like
him either. But he—you remember how
Hei-san at school did magic tricks for us sometimes at Recess? He—he teaches me tricks too, and sometimes I
wonder if maybe he’s his son or something like that.” She wiped her face again, and Rin (still
kneeling) offered her a tissue from one pocket.
Rin still had a lot of Mouri Ran’s habits hanging on, especially the
ones that had involved taking care of a certain little boy.
*His son, huh? Not… likely.
But when you’re a kid you don’t really have that much of a concept of
age; older-than-you means just that: older, and that’s all. Guess Hei-san the Janitor looked old enough to
Ayumi for him to have a teenaged son…..
Dammit, dammit, dammit! If this
is who I think it is and not some weird coincidence-- No, it’s no coincidence; every instinct I
have says it isn’t. But WHY the hell is
*he* teaching Ayumi magic tricks, of all weird things? Is this some sort of plot to spy on me or
what?*
Conan
hesitated, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring down at his
friend. “Um, Ayumi? Is this Hei-san… nice? I mean, you said he’s your friend, right?” *He had
damned well BETTER be nice--*
She nodded
vigorously. “He really is—he taught me
juggling and that coin-trick I showed you yesterday and the card-tricks I did
in class the other day, and he has pet doves and, and I *LIKE* him, because he
listens to me and tells me jokes… He’s
going to teach me how to do more tricks and more juggling and how to do ven-,
um, ventaril-… how to throw my voice, and—and sometimes… I think he’s lonely.
I think he likes teaching me stuff because he doesn’t have any brothers
or sisters or anything.”
Conan
blinked at that. *Lonely?* The girl hesitated
a little, her hands twisting in her lap.
“Sometimes… I wish I had a big brother, and he’s sort of like
that.” Ayumi offered him a rather watery
smile for a second or two. “He’s awfully
messy, though; his jeans almost always have holes in them, and he doesn’t brush
his hair enough. He says it eats combs.” This last statement was delivered in all
seriousness, and Rin had to swallow hard to keep from giggling.
Her other
friend stared, eyes widening. *Ayumi-kun, if Hei-san is really who I think
he is, you just told me more than anybody else has ever known about the Kid—no
siblings, an only child. He’s late
teenaged by now, possibly a bit older… middle-class household, maybe….. That doesn’t narrow the field by much if I
was actively trying to find out his identity, but it DOES help some. Maybe I had better sit down with you and ask
you a few hundred questions--*
*--or--*
*--maybe not.*
If he did,
he’d be asking her to betray even more confidences; and if there was one thing
Conan/Shinichi understood, it was secrets. He had what he had asked for: a name, and he could figure out the rest on
his own without trying to get a friend to break her word further. Looking down now at Ayumi’s tear-stained
cheeks he felt like an absolute louse. *You’re supposed to be a detective, aren’t
you? So get busy and detect-- and
quit being a First Class jackass about this.
Ayumi-kun’s your friend, and you just thwacked her right in the feelings
just like Mouri used to thwack you on the head.*
Conan heaved
an internal sigh; an apology on a grand scale was in order….. “Ayumi-kun?
Um… here.”
“Hmph? (sniffle)
What—OH!” Silently the boy
offered his skateboard; she took it wonderingly. As he handed it over he surreptitiously
clicked a small switch on the underside, shifting the available speeds down considerably
so she didn’t manage to put herself in the hospital right off the bat. “I—I’m sorry I made you cry. And I’m sorry I got you to say his name… even
though we needed it. I’ll show you how
to use the skateboard tomorrow if you’d like…..”
Ran sat back
to one side out of the way, smiling a little in approval. Her eyes met his over the little girl’s
enthusiastic exclamations, and he could practically read the message
there: That’s better, Shinichi. That’s
much better.
He was
blushing; he could feel it. She *always*
made him blush when she looked at him like that….. A small grin crept out from beneath the
blush, and he began answering Ayumi’ questions about the skateboard, feeling
much better about the world in general.
*And we’ll just have to see
about you, ‘Hei-san’; I don’t know what your game is, but whatever it is, you
won’t get away with it.*
******************************************************************
He wasn’t
going to get away with it; he could tell that right now. “Aokooooo…… c’mon, Aoko—”
“Stuff
it.” She marched him right along the
hallway, one hand tight one the scruff of his jacket and the other gripping his
school backpack. “If you try to steal one more thing from the kitchen, I’m
going to let you have it but GOOD with something heavier than my mop. Understand?”
Kaito
swallowed the last bite of his latest pilferage quickly. *Man,
she can cook!* “Yeah, yeah, got
it. I don’t know why you’re so bent out
of shape, though—you made an absolute truckload of stuff for the party, there’s
no way you’d miss just one or two little
things….. OW! Quit it, Aoko!” She had shifted her grip to the hair just
above his collar, and he yelped slightly as his instinctive twisting to get
away yanked things painfully. “Ow! Help,
police! Assault and battery! Manslaughter!
Sexual harassment! Heeeeelp!!”
“OUT!”
Pushing him
into the main room of the house, her eyes flashed dangerously as she glared him
down. Nakamori Aoko, age 18 as of 11:07
p.m. that night, did *not* take her best friend’s talents at food-thievery
lightly—too many incidents in the past had proven that he not only *could*
stash an amazing amount of eggrolls, candies, sweetbuns and other things away
into hiding places unknown, he *WOULD*
if at all possible. Sometimes she
wondered just how he had stolen that entire carton of eggs one Spring day when
they were twelve; it had simply disappeared from the table, and her father had
assumed that they had been thrown out by mistake. When they showed up the next morning on her
doorstep in an American-style Easter basket (ornately if amateurishly dyed and decorated),
she had simply rolled her eyes and cracked the shell on one, intending to eat
it.
If only he
had *boiled* them first, he wouldn’t have gotten hit with her mop after she
washed the raw egg off her hands…..
He fell over
dramatically onto her couch in a sprawl of long, lanky limbs, his backpack
sliding to the floor with a thump! “Nobody trusts me….” he moaned, throwing the
back of one hand theatrically across his eyes.
“I’m just a poor, helpless, starving magician, soon to be forced to eat
all my doves and turn my rabbit into stir-fry—look, see? I’m just skin and bones!”
With a
pathetic groan he tossed something yellow-white in her direction, and she
instinctively caught it—then yelped as she flung the life-sized skeleton-hand
back into the air. “KAITO!!! Where the hell-- Where did you get that?!?”
From his
loose-limbed collapse on the couch he grinned up at her; the rubber ‘hand’
bounced off the cushion beside his head.
“Oh, go right ahead and swear—don’t mind me.”
“Kaitooooooooo……” A
boiling-point was rapidly being reached--
The young
man smirked, dark blue eyes gleaming with humor. “That novelty shop down on
She
knew. The custom wasn’t celebrated
throughout
Aoko had a
feeling it would be something—special. After all, they were graduating soon…..
She gave him
another glare. “You stay right here, got it? Or I swear I’ll—I’ll serve nothing but fish at my party! Fish-shaped eggrolls, fish-shaped cookies,
fried fish, broiled fish, fishcakes, fish—“
“Okay, okay,
okay!” Kaito said hastily, wincing. “Got
it. I’ll just huddle here and starve for
a while…..” He flopped back again to lie
dejectedly on the couch, his hand drooping back across his eyes as he yawned. With that peculiar grace that no-one except
Kuroba Kaito seemed to possess, he stretched like a cat… and then seemed to
fall almost instantly asleep, his breathing slowing, his fingers relaxing.
Aoko had
seen him do this before—and she never failed to appreciate the effect, although
it would take the most painful tortures imaginable to drag an admission out of
her. That long-limbed body, so
restless….. loose and boneless now, still at last—well, for the moment. It never lasted long. But right now the afternoon sun was slanting
across his face between the window-blinds, throwing everything into sharp
relief; she could see how it crept beneath the back of his hand and outlined
the shape of Kaito’s one visible eye (closed; he had absurdly long eyelashes
for a guy) in vivid, spiky silhouette.
The nervous hands were quiet for a change, the fingers narrow and strong
with years of control; he had pushed his sleeves back, and Aoko could see the
long muscles of his arms molded by the sunlight in smooth curves and swells.
She didn’t
even realize that she had been just standing there, staring, until he turned
his head and blinked at her from beneath his hand. “Aoko?
What is it?”
The young
woman started, falling back a step.
“Uh—um, nothing. Just
thinking.” She hesitated, then shrugged
and turned to walk back down the hall towards the kitchen. Behind her she heard Kaito settling back down
onto the couch with a sigh.
*What did you think you were doing,
anyway?* she snarled
angrily to herself. Standing there like
an idiot, just watching him—it was
just Kaito, for God’s sake, just the same boy she had known since she was a
kid….. the same boy she had laughed at, gotten in trouble with, shouted at,
worried over and argued with for the bulk of her lifetime. What was WRONG
with her lately, anyway?
It had to be
the birthday; right, that was it. She
swung into the kitchen, knocking a spoon off the counter in her haste; it
clattered on the floor and she muttered beneath her breath as she stooped to
pick it up. Birthdays….. They were a bad idea, anyway; so you were
getting older, big deal—what was one more year?
*I mean, look at last year’s
party—it was fine and all that, but Kaito didn’t even come! Not that I care… but he said he would,
and he didn’t… he’s SUCH an idiot sometimes; rude, thoughtless, forgetful….. of
course, later on he put on that fireworks display and spelled my name out down
the side of a skyscraper and EVERYBODY was talking about it for days--*
*I guess it was a pretty good
birthday, after all…..*
But this
year—why did this year feel so *different*?
Was it just because they were graduating, because they were both going
to be considered adults? As she
methodically began to wash the next sink-full of dishes, Aoko had to admit that
that was a pretty big ‘just’, really.
Was that why she was looking
at Kaito so-- so differently?
Or was it
him? This had been going on for months now, this stupid change in how
she was seeing him. Sometimes she almost
thought he had been looking at her differently too, but— She thunked a cup down onto the drainer to one side of the sink
with more violence than was really necessary.
Had he done something to make
him look so—to make those long limbs and that stupid face of his so—
*Aaaaargh!!*
Aoko swore
to herself as she scrubbed with a particular vengeance at the last pan, dredging
up some of her father’s more interesting words.
*I really need to stop that—it’s a
bad habit.* Sometimes it felt so *good* to let off a
little steam, though—hence her mop. What
had started as a silly sort of retaliation had become a habit, then an
instinctual response… and, oddly enough, that
was when she had first started really looking at Kaito.
*If he wasn’t so damned graceful, if
he didn’t MOVE like that… nobody else moves like that. And nobody but me gets to really see how
other people move when they’re being chased—how many other girls actually take
off in hot pursuit?* The police term slipped into the language of
her thoughts with the ease of long familiarity; as she grew older, she had
found herself adopting more and more of her father’s attitudes and
habits—though not, she congratulated herself, his bull-headedness and tendency
towards tunnel-vision.
Most people
didn’t have such a *physical* relationship with anybody else (well, aside from
the romantic kind)— she knew how Kaito moved, how he
would respond if she swung something like her mop at him, how he would dodge
and duck and leap—
---how his
eyes gleamed with laughter as he avoided a swing, how he seemed to be
everywhere and nowhere all at once—
The young
woman sighed, wiping her hands on a dishtowel; the kitchen was warm and rather
pungent right now, scented with ginger and the pepper she had used earlier that
day. The faintest of cool breezes
fluttered the somewhat frayed curtains over the sink (idly Aoko noted one more
time that she really needed to replace them before they fell apart), sending a
single, clean note of early Autumn air into the room. It moved through the scented lukewarm
stuffiness like a ray of sunlight, and she lifted her head to breathe it in.
*That’s how he is, really;
that’s part of the fascination—he’s sort of like that breath of wind. Different.
Stupid Kaito—he’s such a bother and he gets on my nerves—but he’s not
like everybody else, not at all, and I just can’t help but watch him; he makes
everybody around him look dull as… as dishwater.*
Aoko sighed, leaning back for a second—just a second, she told herself—to enjoy the breeze.
* * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile,
back in the main room…..
*…..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……….... zzzsnerkkk?*
Two dark
blue eyes opened from beneath the back of a hand. *She’s
gone? ….. right, I can hear dishes
clattering; she must be back in the kitchen.
Good-- now I can get to work.*
With a
prolonged yawn he streeeeeeeetched,
scratching at his hair with one hand and feeling in his pockets with the
other. *Mmmmm….. tape, string, wire, pressure
sensors… a little of this, a bit of that…..
Perfect. And she’ll be a little
while—couldn’t pick a better time for setup.
Heh— ‘Trust your friends, but
deal the cards yourself’. Time to deal a
few cards off the bottom of the deck.*
Stretching one last time, he
picked up his backpack from the floor and extracted some of the larger
materials as well. *Timer….. projector….. specially-treated Rosacea
Alba Suaveolens…..*
The next few
minutes were busy ones as he attached things here, adjusted things there, hid
things everywhere….. He’d been planning Aoko’s “birthday trick” for the last few months and it took
more than a little preparation to set up.
If everything went right, she’d remember *this* one for the rest of her
life. If it went wrong… well, he’d
probably regret it for the rest of his. This
trick was as important to him as any of his heists.
And speaking
of heists—
He’d been
planning *another* kind of trick for days now; a bit different from his usual
line of work this time, not the normal snatch of a precious gemstone or piece
of elaborate jewelry… Oh no, this was a lot more intriguing; more
difficult, too, in its way. As Kaito
carefully ran a small, insignificant-looking line of wire along the edge of the
carpet, he grinned a little to himself in anticipation, feeling the usual rush
and rise of excitement deep down at the thought of his next ‘acquisition’…..
The local
University was holding a really interesting display of Western and Eastern
jewelry, from places as distant as Russian or nearby as
The grand
opening of the exhibit was next Friday at
The thing
was, he needed to strike quickly. Kaito was certain he wasn’t the only person
to pick up on his target’s history—the Bad Guys were sure to be around. It wouldn’t be the first time and it wouldn’t
be the last (unless, of course, this WAS
the Pandora Gem).
So….. Daylight Heist Time, maybe? He’d have to figure out a suitably-intriguing
announcement to Nakamori ASAP. *Oh well…..* He shrugged, stuffing the last of his tools
into his pockets and checking the settings of the projector unit; handy little
thing, that, barely more than six inches tall and beautifully designed—he had
found it (of all places) in an online catalogue of kid’s toys. He admired it one last time, glanced around,
and carefully tucked it away in its place at the bottom of an empty trashcan to
sit well-hidden beneath the plastic liner.
*Hey-- maybe Ayumi-chan’d
like this later on—bet she’d have a blast with it.*
Ayumi-chan…..
*Wonder how things went for her? Poor kid—hope it
wasn’t too traumatic. Bet I’ll know
pretty soon….. There’s no freaking WAY
the Shrimp wouldn’t figure out it was me, sooner or later; better be careful
and check for runty little figures in the shadows wherever I go for a while. Not that I expect being extra careful to really
do much good—Kudo’s way too good at what he does,
Shrimp or not-- but I’d rather orchestrate our next meeting myself, just
like last time when he was in the hospital.* He grinned at
the memory, flopping back onto the couch and regarding the room with a critical
eye; good, it looked just the same as before.
Aoko had already cleaned in there, so his little ‘improvements’ weren’t
likely to be disturbed. Good.
Kaito
chuckled; then his rather manic grin softened considerably as he thought of how
Aoko had just stood there, staring
at him from the doorway, thinking he was asleep….. A thrill of warmth seemed to run the length
of his spine as he recalled her eyes and how he had felt as her gaze brushed
over him like the softest of feathers, familiar and strange and wonderful and
frightening all at one and the same time—
*Just work like you’re supposed to,
okay?* he thought at
his gizmos; it was almost a prayer. *Just do what I
designed you to do…..*
*….. and THEN we should see some
fireworks…..*
******************************************************************
“Ayumi-chan?
What are you doing?” The little
girl’s mother paused on her way to the bathroom; her daughter sat at her desk, pyjama’d legs crossed Indian-fashion in the wooden
chair. From the doorway Yoshida Miiri could hear the scribble of some sort of writing
implement—markers or some such thing?
“Drawing…..” The child’s voice was preoccupied, her head
bent over her work; the tip of her tongue stuck out of one side of her mouth
and her brows were crooked down. Her
mother wandered up, smiling, to peer at what was so absorbing her child.
Several
crumpled pages in the wastecan gave evidence that she
wanted to get this drawing right; at the moment she seemed happy with
what she had done—she was adding in color now, working carefully in between the
lines—and her mother beheld what appeared to be a drawing of a woman. Blonde hair with a little brown mixed in,
bangs cutting across the forehead at a ragged angle, the subject of her
daughter’s artwork seemed to have a serious look on her face (the mouth was a
straight line) and was holding a— beaker? and wearing a long white jacket of
some sort. A lab coat, decided Yoshida Miiri, cocking her head to one side much as her daughter so
often did. The second, smaller figure in
the drawing looked rather like Ayumi’s usual
self-image sketch, but why had the child drawn herself with her hands over her
mouth? “’Yumi-chan? Is this one of your teachers?”
The little
girl squinted critically at her drawing, pausing for a second. “….. um…. No, but she’s at school with me…..”
Back to work
went the markers; scribble, scribble….. *She
must work there, then. Perhaps one of
the higher grades’ teachers?* “It’s a
very nice drawing—you must like her very much to work so hard on this. Is it a present?”
Scribble, scritch…..
“Uh huh. She’s one of my
friends.” Scribble, scritch-scratch-scribble…..
Her mother
chuckled; the small, dark head was bent so *seriously* over the desk—she could
have been a college student, absorbed in her studies or working on her
thesis. “Well, don’t stay up too late, ‘Yumi-chan—you’ve
got school tomorrow, remember?” Miiri tickled the back of her child’s neck a little, making
the little girl giggle and squirm slightly.
“Oyasumi, Ayumi…” She dropped a kiss on the child’s head.
“Oyasumi, ‘Kaasan…” Scribble,
scritch-scritch, scribble….. The door closed behind her mother.
Ayumi sat
back in her chair, frowning down at her artwork as she nibbled thoughtfully on
the end of her marker. She hoped that
Ai-kun would like it— after all, the other girl would probably be upset when
she heard that somebody had figured out about Rin and Conan…..
Ran and Shinichi, said her mind’s voice; she shook her
head. Names were funny things; she still
called Ai ‘Haibara-san’ sometimes— her sempai was hard to get to know easily,
and that had kept them all using her more formal name for a long time. Actually Ayumi had
started calling her ‘Ai-kun’ or sometimes even ‘Ai-chan’ only a few months
back; for some reason she had started wondering if her friend might like it
better.
Ai was a
sort of lonely person, thought Ayumi, carefully adding a few bits more with a yellow
marker; she needed more friends. Maybe
when she had been a grownup she hadn’t ever learned how to make them—if that
were so, then at least she had a chance to do it now. So Ayumi was
determined to let her know that she was still
her friend… even if Ai-kun had been a
grownup.
A yawn
interrupted the girl’s work; she leaned back again and stretched,
arms above her head. As she slid from
her chair she blinked at the clock beside her bed—
Folding the
paper carefully, she tucked it into her school backpack and turned off the
light. As she settled into the cool
sheets and the warmth of her quilt, she tucked her hands behind her head (like
Hei-san on the branch the other day, she thought) and stared sleepily at the
darkened ceiling. Two years before ‘Kaasan had painted stars above her bed with
glow-in-the-dark paint; it had faded a little with time, but the designs still
retained enough luminosity to be visible.
They had started learning about constellations at school, so while she
waited for sleep to come Ayumi traced what patterns
she could remember from star to star with one finger, drawing them in the air.
*Stars….. People make wishes on stars. I wonder if Rin and Conan-kun—Ran and
Shinichi—did that when they were little?
The first time, I mean. I wonder
why people make wishes on stars and not the moon? The moon’s bigger, maybe it could make bigger
wishes come true…..* She yawned; her eyes began to drift
closed. It was hard to hold them open
when you were sleepy, anyway, so she closed them and spent a minute or two
wondering why it was so much easier to be tired when it was dark than when it
was light.
The covers
were a little too heavy tonight; her window was closed, and the room was a
little too warm. Still yawning, Ayumi pushed the quilt and sheets back and slid out of bed,
pattering over to her balcony-door and clicking the lock open. ‘Kaasan didn’t know
she sometimes slept with the door open; she had so far managed to close it
before she left the room. Sometimes it
felt so good, just having a breeze blowing in….. and you could hear the city
below, so far away; nothing could hurt her up here, nothing could reach her
balcony. Ayumi
spent a few moments just standing there, looking out at the cloudy sky; no
stars tonight. But it still was nice,
even though she could hear the traffic blaring way, way down there—beeps and
roars, screeches and dull hums and the swish of movement.
As she
turned to go back to bed, she caught a sweet scent; was that--? *My rosebush! It IS blooming!* And it was—two delicate half-opened buds,
just wide enough to release a heady, wonderful aroma that made her dart back to
the door and out onto the balcony in excitement. Cupping small hands around the blooms she
breathed in their own breathe, vibrant and alive; *Oooooo… two of them are blooming, two of
them— Cool!!*
Ayumi had
never grown anything before, except for some radishes for her mother (at
school, though—they all got to plant just a few seeds in a window box and take
them home later; hers would probably have looked and tasted a lot better if she
hadn’t kept digging them up to see how they were doing.) Now, slipping back to bed with the scent of
the roses still on her fingers, she began to wonder what else she could grow on
her balcony…..
Tomorrow
she’d talk to her ‘Kaasan about it. She turned on her side so that the two blooms
were visible from her place on the pillow, gleaming like dim stars in the half-light/half-dark
of the city. *Stars again….. they’re prettier than the ones on my ceiling, too. AND they smell nice. Can you wish on roses the way you wish on
stars? ….. If I could… what would I wish
for?*
*I think I’d wish for… more white roses. And some new markers, ‘cause
mine are starting to get scratchy….. And
maybe to learn more magic tricks from Hei-san, and maybe how to really throw my
voice. Or to get better at imitating
other people’s voices—when I tried to imitate Mitsuhiko’s,
everybody laughed….. I still think I
sounded just like him, though… and I can do Conan’s already… I sure made him jump when I did that, and
Rin-kun wouldn’t stop laughing. She said
I did it just right, and he turned bright red….. I wonder if he got embarrassed when he was
Shinichi-niisan too?*
She yawned,
eyes completely closed now; she could still smell her flowers on the breeze.
*More roses, more tricks, and…..
and….. I don’t know. Why do people
always get three wishes in the fairytales?
…..And… what if you can’t think of a third wish? Do you lose it, or can you give it away…?*
Half-asleep, her breathing began to slow a little as she drifted. *I
need… to think… of another wish…..*
*I… wish…..*
*……..wish……...*
……….………………….
Ayumi’s
thoughts slid away into dreams, flavored with the scent of roses and the sounds
of the city night.
*********************************************************
*Party!-PARTY!-Party!-PARTY!-Party!-PARTY!--*
Kaito’s thoughts bounced along happily in
rhythm with the pounding music coming from the main room of Aoko’s
house; he loved parties.
His hands
moved without much in the way of conscious direction, one grabbing plastic cups
from a pack and the other scooping and flinging ice towards the containers with
absolute accuracy (he hadn’t dropped a cube yet). As a cup filled, it would be tossed
absentmindedly to smack down onto a tray, perfectly upright.
*Party!-PARTY!-Party!-PARTY!-Party!-PARTY!--*
The “Aoko Hits The Big
18” celebration was in full swing; her schoolmates were everywhere,
sprawled over any furniture or piece of floor available, dancing, munching,
talking and talking and talking (or attempting to, at least) over the blare of
noise. Streamers hung from the ceiling,
any number of presents had appeared back by the cake, and somehow a number of
people’s personal possessions (hats, jewelry, the occasional sock) and ended up
hanging from the light-fixtures. When a
pointed question or two had been sent Kaito’s way regarding the impromptu
‘decorations’, he had simply grinned and spread his hands with a shrug… and
absolutely no attempt to look innocent.
*Got a reputation to uphold, after
all,* he thought
smugly, tossing the last cup towards the tray; it landed with a light clatter,
and he took that tray and two others out to the main drinks table. *Party!-PARTY!-Party!-PARTY!-- Wonder where Aoko-kun’s
gotten to? Hope she’s having a good
time--*
Her father
had vacated the house for the evening; with what was a rare show of good sense,
Nakamori Senior had decided that this would be a good opportunity to visit a
couple of friends on the west coast overnight.
While he did tend towards
being a suspicious and occasionally over-protective father (when he could be
bothered, that is), he wasn’t stupid. So
he had gruffly wished his daughter a happy birthday, issued any number of
warnings, threatened immediate and painful death to *anyone* he found out had done anything to her whatsoever, caught a
train, and left Aoko to have a good time on her own.
*Now WHERE did she get to? Gotta be around here somewhere--*
She wasn’t
in sight, but as he deftly slid the filled cups onto the table a slightly amused
voice came from behind: “You make a
pretty good maid, Kuroba; maybe you ought to take it up professionally.”
Leaning
nonchalantly against the angle of the nearest doorway, Hakuba
Saguru smirked a little at his sempai. His blonde hair was slightly disarrayed, and
he looked oddly unfamiliar out of his usual school uniform or the suits he
seemed to favor when out in public. The
round vowels of his upperclass British schooling
contrasted oddly with his Japanese; crossing his arms, he favored Kaito with one
raised eyebrow. “Looks like you’ve even
managed to acquire a uniform; it looks… interesting. But then, white is your color, ne?”
Kaito
glanced down at the ruffled white apron he had whimsically put on over his
black jeans and sweatshirt (he had found it in the kitchen); the contrast was
oddly official-looking, and he grinned at the not-so-subtle hint the other
teenager made towards his suspected ‘occupation.’ “Really? Thought I looked pretty good in black,
myself. And you know what they say—
‘Don’t quit your day job.....’ Good
advice, huh, Saguru-chan?”
The
familiarity of the diminutive made the other grimace in irritation; he shrugged
resignedly, a faintly sarcastic gleam in his light eyes. “Save it.
Considering that I don’t tend to take advice from—“
A crash and
several feminine shrieks from the front door made him break off his commentary
(“Thank You,” muttered Kaito, rolling his eyes heavenwards); several latecomers
had all tried to crowd through at once, including Aoko’s
close friend Keiko. She seemed to be lugging
a rather clumsily-wrapped box, and when she saw Kaito she made a beeline
straight towards him.
*Uh oh…..* He tried to slip into stealth-mode and out
through the crowd around the table, but Keiko was persistant
and quite capable of ruthlessly trampling innocent bystanders without a second
thought. As she grabbed him by his arm,
she hissed out “KAITO-KUN!! You’ve gotta help me hide this!!” and he
winced, eyeing the box with disfavor.
It seemed to
have airholes. This did NOT bode well. “Uhhhhh….
Why?” He could hear Hakuba
snickering, damn him.
The girl
rolled her eyes. “BeCAUSE
it’s a present for Aoko-kun, and if I sit it down for long it’s gonna start wailing and try and get out –“ She squawked slightly as the box shifted in
her hands; a muffled sound came from within, almost totally hidden by the thump
of the music and the loud conversation on all sides: “Mew?? Mewyow?”
Kaito
stared. “You… got her a cat??
Keiko, she’s gonna have your hide, you know that—“
The present
was really moving now; as the girl shifted somewhat frantically for a better
hold, a scrabbling, digging noise was audible from one corner. The paper around one airhole rustled sharply,
and Keiko yeeped slightly as one claw hooked *right*
through the cardboard and into her finger.
“Yow-wow?? Mew! MROWOW WOWW!!” The thing in the box seemed to have quite a
vocabulary.
“HERE!! You take it—she won’t suspect YOU—“
She thrust the container into Kaito’s arms; he yelped, grabbing it at
the last moment. Behind his back Hakuba was now beginning to laugh outright, something that
rarely happened. The teenager in the
maid’s apron shot him a dirty look over one shoulder, then turned back around
to the girl. “Um, Keiko, of ALL the people here you think
Aoko-d think *I* was innocent? Hell,
all I have to do is *look* at her and
she suspects something—“
“Not without
reason…” Snicker, snicker.
“Shut up, Saguru-chan. Can’t we—I dunno, hide it under the sink or something ‘til she opens
her presents?” The ‘present’ bounced a
little in his hands as its contents began a no-holds-barred attempt to shred
its way through the bottom; muffled cat-curses and imprecations began to fill
the air, drawing curious looks from the nearer partygoers. “Ah, crap--! Little bugger’s got teeth—“ Kaito yanked an
exploratory finger back from an airhole.
When he glanced back up, Keiko had hightailed
it off into the crowd. “Dammit!”
Ignoring the
continued laughter from behind his back, he glanced at the clock;
Raising it
to head-level, he peered in through one of the airholes. A blazing sky-blue eye met his and he drew
back in alarm. *Blue?? WHERE did Keiko get this
thing? If it’s a Siamese, that’d account
for the vocals, but they’re pretty damned expensive--* Claws tried to widen the hole, attached to
distinctly white-furred toes; *not* a Siamese, then. Maybe the cat or fiend from Hell or
whatever-it-was had something exotic in its ancestry, though; he had heard once
that every kitten in a litter could have a different father. *Heh;
this one’s mom must’ve gotten creative—DAMmit, there
goes the claws again!! I take it back,
daddy must’ve been a bakemono, not a Siamese--*
No good
could come of this, he was certain. *Oh well…..*
He wound his
way through the crowd towards the heap of presents occupying a corner;
carefully sliding the box beneath a table to one side (and muttering “Back,
back, Foul Beast From Hell!”) the teenager wiped blood from an abused digit or
two off on his shirtcuff—he just couldn’t bring
himself to get it all over the apron. *Better take this off, anyways; I’ve done my
duty to the party—if we run out of any more stuff, people can fend for themselves. WHERE is
Aoko, anyway?*
*Oh-- THERE she is….. That’s better; she
looks more like Aoko-chan now. Yeah.*
Earlier,
when the first guests arrived, Nakamori Aoko had been dressed up and nervous in
an outfit he had never seen her wear before, a cornflower-blue dress of simple
cut… and devastating effect. Apparently
she had decided to go all out tonight (Hell, she was entitled; it *was* her eighteenth, after all). It wasn’t that the outfit was all that
revealing or anything—no, there was just something about it… about how the
fabric was cut to drape from shoulder to shoulder in soft folds, how the waist
seemed to mold itself around her and then flow gracefully around a pair of legs
that (he had to admit) really looked pretty damned good…..
He was a lot
more used to seeing her in her school uniform, or maybe in the simple outfits
she tended to wear around home—it wasn’t unknown over the last year or so for
her to be seen out climbing the roof in jeans as scruffy as Kaito’s, fixing a
leak with a hammer and a determined expression.
Her father never seemed to have much time to do anything around the
house, so most of the repairs were up to her—or Kaito, who helped out when
needed. So jeans and t-shirts fit his
mental image of Aoko a lot better than the elegant dress, no matter how good
she looked in it—and she did look
good, but—
But now—
Her hair was
down now, loosened from the careful way she had pinned it up earlier; it fell
about her shoulders in its usual disarray, thick-locked and heavy. Sitting cross-legged with a few friends, Aoko
had apparently forgotten about being stylish and all eighteen and everything;
she was relaxed now, easy and comfortable on a floor cushion with her sleeves
pushed up and her face flushed.
*She looks… well, idiot, go ahead and
THINK it, anyway, even if you can’t say it:
beautiful. Aoko looks
beautiful. She looked good earlier, but
this is… much nicer.* He simply watched her for a moment, not
really thinking anything coherent other than beautiful. As if she had
heard him, she suddenly looked up and met his eyes across the room; her already
pink cheeks reddened even more, and she opened her mouth as if to say—
“DRUMROLL, PLEASE!!!”
A thunderous clanging noise filed the air, coming from the doorway
behind Kaito; he jumped like a scalded cat (“Mwow?” said the box under the table) as three of their
classmates filed into the room, banging on pots from the kitchen with wooden
spoons. Kaito sagged back against the
wall beside the present-pile as they marched up to Aoko and began dragging her
to her feet. She protested, laughing,
but one of the impromptu drummers (*What’s
his name? Oh, Kentaro-kun,
right*) shook his head vehemently.
“PRESENT
TIME!” he chorused gleefully, to loud cheers from the audience and his fellow
‘musicians’. Aoko, still laughing,
allowed herself to be dragged to the pile of gifts. Kaito blew out a sigh of relief (or possibly
disappointment; what had she been about to say, anyway?) and leaned back
against the wall to watch.
The next
twenty minutes or so were a frenzy of ripped wrapping paper, opened boxes and
squeals of excitement or howls of laughter; people tended to give Aoko-kun interesting gifts. Privately Kaito wondered just what she was
going to do with the three-foot-tall stuffed panda, but that just sort of added
to the gift, he guessed. CDs, books,
that sort of thing-- *Nice prezzies,* he thought with a smile, quirking one
eyebrow at the English-made scarf that Hakuba had
presented her with. *Dream on, ‘Saguru-chan’—you’re not her
type.*
A small
voice somewhere inside added softly: *Or I hope not, anyway…*
She was
wearing the scarf. Of course, she was
*also* wearing the fuzzy bedroom slippers, new CD headphones and the Micky Mouse hat one of her friends had brought back from EuroDisney. So maybe
that didn’t count.
A sudden sharp
pain in his ankle made him give a sudden hop and yelp; *WHATtheHell??.......... Oh.* Thudding noises and an extended, swiping
furry limb equipped with kitten-claws indicated that Keiko’s ‘gift’ was getting
closer to freedom all the time. “Uhhhh, Keiko? Your…
present? I think it wants to have a word
with you…..” said Kaito, picking the girl out from the crowd. She made a horrified face and violently shook
her head; Aoko watched quizzically as her friend attempted to backpedal her way
through the crowd with no success.
The young
man grinned somewhat nastily, avoiding another swipe of claws. *Ohhhhh NO way, Keiko; you brought the little monster, it’s
YOUR present to Aoko, and second thoughts won’t get you out of this one.* “Hey, Aoko-kun? Keiko’s got something for you down here…… she
asked me to keep an eye on it for you; must be something really special…..” He trailed off teasingly; Aoko gave him a
suspicious look, but peered under the table anyway. The room quieted down a little as she slowly
pulled out the box (which now looked somewhat worse to wear, due to the
extended claw marks and gnawing around each airhole).
“Um, Aoko? You might wanna be
sort of careful…..” *You might want to put on battle armor…..*
Aoko gave
him another suspicious glance, then poked gently at a hole; the box which had
previously given every indication of containing anything from Darth Vader’s Personal
Meanness Trainer to a chibified Fiend From The Pit was suddenly
silent and still—
“Mew?”
Aoko
opened the box.
“Mew? Meow??”
“Oooohhhhh……… Oh,
it’s so CUTE!!”
purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…………
It was
fluffy and white and small and distinctly did *not* look like a Foul Demonic
Beast From The Depths Of Hell. The kitten blinked cute blue eyes cutely at
its new owner and yawned in a very cute way, oozing cute-waves in all
directions simultaneously. Kaito felt
his eyes bulging; Keiko looked ready to faint from relief.
*No freaking way… It IS a bakemono, if it can do stuff
like go from being Godzilla to Hello Kitty in a split second…..*
The teenager blinked at the ball of white fuzz in bemusement; Aoko was
cuddling it and it was kneading its paws in bliss, eyes closed. *Okay,
maybe I just got a bad impression; maybe it just didn’t like being in the box
or something.*
That was
when the kitten opened its blue eyes again and stared at Kaito with what could
only be called a nasty grin; the white tail lashed once or twice, and he saw
the claws flex. He swallowed. *Okay;
guess that clears THAT up. It’s a Fiend
From The Pit, right enough.*
Aoko was
thanking Keiko (who looked understandably relieved, if a little shocked and
nervous; she stroked the kitten’s head gingerly and got a distinctly menacing
look from beneath a fluffy paw as the kitten batted at her finger. Other people were crowding around with cries
of “Kawaiiiii!”, but the girl hugged her new pet a
little protectively, saying it was “shy”.
*Yeah, right, shy as a vulture on a
carcass in the desert,* thought Kaito as his scratched ankle gave him a twinge. “So, Aoko—what’re you gonna name him?”
*I’ve got a few suggestions-- Beelzebub, Satan, Lucifer, Mephistopheles, Old
Nick…..*
The girl
frowned down at the fluffball that had now settled itself comfortably into her
arms; it (he? she?) blinked innocent blue eyes up at her, still emitting
cuteness-waves. The kitten tapped at her
nose cutely with one cute paw. “I think
I’ll name him… her… whatever…. uhm…..” The roomful of people quieted a little in
anticipation……..
“…….. Spot.”
“SPOT???” chorused a dozen or so voices,
accompanied by puzzled looks. Giggles
came from the crowd, and Kaito blinked in puzzlement. *Spot???*
Aoko got
that slightly belligerent look of hers, usually a prelude to a mop
incident. “Well, it IS a spot—a white one; there’s not another color on her. Him.
Whatever.” She snuggled the
kitten close; it purred, one eye barely slitted open to glare balefully at
Kaito, who resolved to keep a careful eye on the creature…..
….. from a
safe distance.
*Oh well; better that she’s snuggling
a kitten-or-whatever-it-is than a few other creatures I can think of.*
He could see Hakuba a dozen feet away or so,
looking distinctly annoyed for some reason; he was--?? Yeah, he WAS…
glaring at the kitten. It smirked
back. Coolness; maybe he didn’t like
cats. The teenager grinned a little
smugly to himself; he liked cats—it
was just that he wasn’t entirely certain that the mutant hairball Aoko was
currently holding was specifically a normal feline. Or even an abnormal one, for that
matter….. Cats did not, in his
experience, tend to smirk.
*Hm—what
time is it? Oh MAN, eleven on the
dot! Better take care of a few things
here and there…..* He realized belatedly that he had never taken
off the apron, so Kaito put it to good use by playing the maid again; gathering
up soda-cans, plates and other miscellaneous trash, he dumped the whole lot
into a certain wastecan and hauled it into the
kitchen for emptying, as well as a few bits of necessary preparation. A minute or two later (minus the apron), the
young magician carted the wastecan back out into the
room and plunked it down dead-center.
People were
beginning to gather; everybody knew the drill from parties past: Aoko had been born a few minutes after
He just
shook his head, not really knowing how to explain. In a way, the chance to show off one of his
more grandiose tricks was as good as
a gift; how often did he get to do just that, after all? Aside from his episodes as Kid, of course—and
he couldn’t talk about those. Sometimes,
in his heart of hearts and at his weakest moments Kaito almost wished he would
slip up somehow…. that Aoko would find out.
That they could talk about it, get over the misunderstandings and anger
and all the rest—
That he
could just stop lying….. to somebody,
at least.
But THAT wasn’t going to happen
anytime soon, so— he’d just have to take the chances he was given. Or the ones he arranged….. *’Trust
your friends… but deal the cards yourself.’
Good advice too, better than ‘Don’t quit your day job’ anytime. But I don’t think I’ll pass it along to Hakuba, though.*
The clock
now said eleven-oh-six; showtime…..
He cleared his throat, feeling the usual excitement bubbling up
underneath everything. This was going to
be *special*.
Slipping off
the lip of the trashcan, Kaito stood up straight; at the proper twist of a
wrist, a set of miniature relays slid into his palm from one sleeve as he
tucked it into one pocket. Raising the
other hand above his head, he called out loudly: “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! LIGHTS AND YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE…”
The lights
and thumping music immediately cut off; it didn’t escape a few people’s
appreciative notice that no-one had touched any buttons or switches.
As the
darkened room quieted, the young magician clicked his fingers once. “Excuse me, everybody? I’d like to propose a toast to somebody we
all know and occasionally run from…..” (he ducked a sudden swing at his head)
“…. Nakamori Aoko!!!” Plastic cups,
soda-cans clinked all over the room to a chorus of cheers; from nowhere he
produced a wineglass full of something bubbly.
Raising it high, Kuroba Kaito turned towards the girl who was
practically glowing in the dark by now from embarrassment; she had expected
something like this, but….
“Happy Birthday, Aoko-kun.” His voice was
unexpectedly gentle, and quite a number of Kaito’s classmates blinked at this in
the dark. “Y’know, I wanted to get you something special for
tonight, but I couldn’t think what to do.
So I thought maybe we all ought to go somewhere special instead.
Whatcha think?” She stared at him through the shadowy room,
puzzled; an intrigued murmur came from the crowd…..
(Kaito pressed the first relay--) “Let’s see…… outside would be
nice……..”
Gasps filled
the room as walls, ceiling and the occasional person
were suddenly covered with stars. Stars everywhere, projected from an unknown
source, glittering and gleaming in brilliant points of light and traceries of
constellations, stars moving gently in stellar procession in every direction…..
“And….. we
need a proper atmosphere; how about a garden?”
(Sweating a little, he pressed the second set of switches; God, he hoped
nothing had wilted yet…..)
More gasps
as everywhere, *everywhere*….. roses
began to bloom. Greenery crept out as
the pure white buds seemed to open magically on top of bookcases, from around
the backs of doors, along the edge of the carpet, the top of the stereo, the
light fixtures, the pictures on the walls…..
everywhere. Their scent filled the room,
cutting through the aroma of too many sweaty teenagers and a fair amount of
clandestine alcohol.
The roses glowed faintly in the dark; Kaito
breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been
sure that the luminescence he had treated them with would keep on working, but
apparently it had. They didn’t even look
wilted, either.
Beside him Aoko was totally rigid with shock and astonishment; she
stared around with huge eyes, taking in the starlit garden that her main room
had become. He friend’s heart danced
with glee as he clicked the last relay.
“One last thing—gotta have the right kind of music, too…..”
He had found
them online, the pieces that now began to play; a mixture, really—some of them
were from various J-Pop artists Aoko liked, a few were from anime shows, a
couple had come from Western groups (‘Acoustic Alchemy’ was one he was going to
have to check into in the future, not to mention ‘Battlefield Band’). All of it was liquid, beautiful… the kind of
music you would want to listen to in a garden under the stars.
People were
starting to dance all around them. Kaito
smiled at his friend’s face, feeling amazingly giddy inside. “Happy Birthday, Aoko,” he said softly. She just stared at him as if she had never
seen him before, then hesitantly took a step or two towards him.
Somewhat to
her surprise, the boy she had known all her life (and who she obviously thought
was going to ask her to dance) stepped back and away. “Meet me on the roof later, huh?” he said, a
silly grin filling his face—
And then he
was gone, back and out through the crowd, and Aoko found herself being clamored
at by several other of her classmates to dance.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Outside Aoko’s
house, any number of her neighbors were disturbed by a
wild, triumphant shout: “YEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAH!!!!!” Several reported later that they had seen a
figure doing handsprings across her small yard, but it was late and the dark
*did* tend to play tricks on people’s eyes.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
A happy Kaito is a scary, scary thing.
He had
bounced his way through the rest of the party (which he knew would be lasting
into the wee hours, possibly even until dawn; it was Aoko’s eighteenth, after all). Odd things had happened in his near vicinity,
sometimes without his even being aware of them—the occasional dropped drink had
quite improbably landed right-side-up, rather than all over people’s legs;
cigarettes had gone out repeatedly, unable to be relit (Kaito hated smoking),
and his particular favorites kept popping up over and over on the CD player’s
supposedly-random selection.
If anybody
had asked him about any of this he would have simply shrugged an innocent shrug
and blinked guileless blue eyes in their direction; this, of course, would have
only confirmed their suspicions and increased his reputation as a
magician. He might have scratched his
head and wondered later on about poltergeist activity, however…..
(The truth
was, as with any good trick, a secret; but a serious study concerning his
body’s personal magnetic fields might have shown some interesting and somewhat
disturbing results.)
Of course,
there were also the deliberate
pranks and practical jokes—
He had let
the doves go home after their first few appearances from people’s clothing,
drinks, etcetera… Aoko’s
new little hellion had suddenly leaped out of nowhere in a dove-bound
trajectory (fortunately missing), and he hadn’t wanted to risk the poor things
anymore. Spot sat on top of the TV for a
while after that, visibly sulking and occasionally chewing on the single tailfeather he had managed to snatch; if looks could
kill…..
Peculiar cards
found their way into the poker game going on in the kitchen—Kaito’s classmate
Takeshi found himself staring bemusedly at five
Aces, none of which belonged in the deck they had started out with. All of
the Jacks were thumbing their noses, and the Kings suddenly seemed to bear a
striking resemblance to Jackie Chan; as one, the poker players all looked accusingly
at Kaito (who chuckled and stood up, cheerfully relinquishing his seat at the
game to an onlooker). As he walked out,
several cards suddenly went *POOF!*
and turned into brief bursts of flame; the poker players looked glumly at each
other’s somewhat smoky faces, then shrugged and pulled out a fresh deck. After all, they should’ve known better—it was Kuroba-kun…..
Time passed;
drinks were drank, consumables were consumed, and a
Kitten From Hell finally went to sleep in the middle of the snacks table,
snores occasionally interspersed with audible burps. Kaito wandered from room to room, carefully
avoiding seeing a certain person (he wasn’t altogether sure why, but it just
seemed appropriate—and if he could avoid the cops, he could damn well elude Aoko). It was really late now, or early… it depended
how you looked at it, since the clock had just clicked past four-thirty
a.m. The young magician yawned, snagging
a handful of chips that Spot had managed to miss; from his vantage point in one
of the small side-rooms he could just barely see Aoko from here—she was perched
sideways on the arm of her couch in the next room. It gratified Kaito no end to see one of his
luminous roses stuck rather haphazardly in her hair.
He sighed
happily and plopped down on a floor-cushion, stretching and leaning back
against the room’s sole overstuffed chair and bumping against the occupant’s
leg. Said occupant made no objection;
muted snores gave evidence that at least one of the partygoers had finally
succumbed to either alcohol or weariness, and Kaito craned his neck around to
peer up through the shadows. The lights
were still down, and it was hard to make the sleeper out at first….. they
seemed to be blonde, though, and wearing a sort of preppy-looking sweater—
Oh. It was… It was Hakuba
Saguru.
Kaito felt his eyes widen and a huge grin steal across his face; this
was just too, TOO good a chance to
pass up— He closed his eyes briefly,
almost feeling a lump in his throat. *Dad, wherever you are right now, THANK YOU if you had a hand in this. I’d feel like I was betraying your memory if
I let an opportunity like this one go by…..*
*Now, let’s see…. Which pocket did I
put that luminous stuff in?*
Sometime
later, a groggy Hakuba Saguru said his goodbyes to Aoko; if he had been a little
more awake, he might have paid attention to the whispered comments and muffled
giggles that trailed in his wake as he moved through the dimly-lit rooms. Aoko’s eyes had
widened as he approached, certainly—she had seemed somewhere between taken
aback and nearly overcome with some strong emotion as she stammered a goodnight
in reply. The weary blonde would-be
detective plodded out the door without a second thought, heading for home and a
strong cup of tea.
From his
vantage point on the ridge of Aoko’s steeply-slanted rooftop,
Kaito watched him go with an admiring smile for his own handiwork; the glowing hearts
and kiss-marks he had marked the blonde’s face with while he dozed really
suited him somehow—they just added a certain… charm. *Heh; that’ll
teach HIM to fall asleep anywhere near me-- next time I’ll have to think of
something special to do to his hair as well.
Spikes, maybe?* He sat back
on the roof, pocketing his camera and pondering just how much Hakuba would’ve forked over for the negatives, had they
been for sale.
“Very nice, Kaito-kun; very nice indeed.”
The voice came from below, sultry and rather deep for a young
woman’s. He sighed internally; *Akako. Wondered where she was….. probably pulling
the wings off flies somewhere.* He
leaned over a bit, just enough to see off the edge of the roof. *Mmph? Where—?*
A footstep
sounded behind him on the wood shingles.
*Oh. Great.
I’m waiting up here for Aoko, and instead I get the Wicked Witch of the
West, only without the Flying Monkeys.
At least THEY were sort of cool…..*
Resignedly he twisted around a little on his narrow perch, sitting back crosslegged with his hands draped over his knees. “Ohayou, Akako-kun.”
“Konbanha, Kaito-kun.
It’s still dark.” Her white teeth
gleamed in the pre-dawn shadows as she smiled at him; he grunted noncommittally
in answer, and she walked a few steps daintily across the roof’s narrow ridge in
her high-heeled pumps to pause perhaps a little too close to her intended
target. Koizumi Akako
loomed over him, just a bit—but then, Akako seemed to
like looming over people.
She had
looked pretty good tonight, he had to admit; her black and rather alarmingly low-cut
dress clung tightly to her figure in all the right (wrong?) places, revealing what
could be safely revealed and giving strong hints and nudges regarding the
rest. The skirt was amazingly tight and
short, and if the outfit had been any skimpier Akako
would quite possibly earned the dubious distinction of wearing what could only
be considered a Gownless Evening Strap.
And for some
reason unknown even to him, she left him totally cold. Kaito could admire, could even appreciate;
but there was no attraction whatsoever— instead, he found himself wondering
just how Aoko would look in a dress
like that, her hair all loose down her back and a furious blush creeping across
her face…..
*Eeep! Down, boy.*
Dragging his
mind back to business with some reluctance, he took a deep breath of the cool,
clear air. “What can I do for you, Akako-kun?” he asked, feeling a portion of his Kid
poker-face sliding into place.
The dark-haired
young woman continued to smile down at him, hands on hips. “Now, just how should I answer that? So many
possibilities…..” (Kaito felt a bead of
sweat run down his neck.) “But actually,
I thought I’d just drop a word of warning or two in your ear.” She sighed, glancing away and across the
darkened neighborhood; very few lights were on this early—
--they might
have been the only people awake in the entire world. It made him shiver.
“Warning? About what?”
The young man tried not to sound too concerned… or ungrateful. *She’s
been right in the past, I have to admit—that time with the Clock Tower comes to
mind in particular. No idea why she
keeps telling me stuff like this, not really… she creeps me out when she goes
all Occult and everything. Brrrrrr…..*
Akako
shrugged slightly, managing to turn the prosaic movement into something
syncopated and complex. “You might want
to take a little extra care during your next few, ah, ‘ventures’….. This time of year usually favors those who
move through the dark, but—I have a feeling your luck just might be lacking a
little something right now.” She raised
one fine brow critically. “We wouldn’t
want to see ourselves listed in the headlines under “Unmasked At Last”, now, would we?”
Kaito also
shrugged (much more offhandedly). “No
idea what you’re talking about, Akako. But I’ll take the warning as given. Any clues as to why my luck would be
out? I haven’t walked under any ladders
lately, haven’t broken any mirrors, and I’ve stayed away from black cats… up
until now, that is.” He shot her a
sideways glance, barely managing to make it a faint smile at the last second. *MAN,
she’s spooky when she gets like this.*
Fortunately
the young woman seemed to take the comparison as a compliment; she preened
slightly, tossing her long hair over one bare shoulder. “Ah well..… luck’s an odd thing; one can only
do so much with it—I’ve never really trusted luck myself. But perhaps you’ve been lending it out
lately?” She chuckled softly at his
perplexed scowl. “Some people have a surplus
of luck, while others have only the tiniest motes… I’ve noticed that one can wish it to
another’s keeping; where have your concerns been lying, Kaito-kun?”
The young
man on the roof-ridge shook his head irritably; “You ask the weirdest damned
questions sometimes….. What’s wrong,
doesn’t your crystal ball tell you everything I say and do?” His question was only half-sarcastic. “Maybe you’d better go talk to all the rest of the black cats in the
neighborhood, or that little white fiend Aoko’s taken
under her wing—“
The
dark-haired woman actually shuddered, though her face did not change. “That is not
a normal cat. A little youkai in its ancestry, perhaps, or a shapeshifter
or two….. and by the way, crystal balls are considered quite passé these days.” She sniffed.
Akako
tilted her head to one side then a little, a faintly puzzled expression
replacing her usual sultriness. “It’s
rather odd—I can’t quite make it out—there’s something in the way of what I’m
seeing….. And so very few things can
cloud my perception: extreme evil,
extreme good, slyness, innocence….. Who have you been dealing with lately,
Kaito-kun?”
*Innocence…..* For some reason he thought briefly of Ayumi. The young magician shrugged for the third
time in their conversation; it seemed to be a good response to Akako’s questions.
“Thanks for the warning; I’m make sure to look
both ways when I cross the street today…”
“Not just
today. This week—not just today.”
Her tone held an odd note to it that made him look up—was that anxiety he heard there? Concern?
Her expression hadn’t changed, it was still a little puzzled, perhaps a
bit annoyed….. it was rather odd to see something other than seductive
friendliness on those delicate features.
“All right….
Uh, and thanks again. I’ll keep my eyes
open.” He frowned up at her, not
bothering to hide his curiosity. “Why do
you care? I mean, not to be rude, but-- frankly,
Akako, you’re not gonna get anywhere with me. If you haven’t figured out that by now—“
“Oh, I’ve figured it out; I’m no idiot. And I certainly have better things to do than
trouble myself over *you*, my dear Kaito-kun…”
Her voice lingered over his name, the tones oddly caressing, oddly
chilling; he shivered again. “But as to
why I care--? We all have our
hobbies. And perhaps…..” She turned away from him, walking towards the
other side of the roof.
“….. perhaps
I just like you best in white…..
Kaito-kun.”
Her rich
chuckle drifted to him on the early breeze, and then the sound of her footsteps
stopped; when he stood up to look, she had disappeared.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The last
stragglers had left, and the house beneath him had grown silent at last. The young man on the roof listened to the
progress of the building’s sole inhabitant (well, if you didn’t count Spot the
Kitten From Hell) making her way from room to room; the soft pad of her feet
would have been quite inaudible to anyone else.
But a Phantom Thief has to learn all sorts of odd skills, and he knew
every creak, squeak and click of Aoko’s house-sounds;
after all, he had had to practice *somewhere*.
Besides,
they had met on her rooftop before—often, really, when they were kids. There was this pine tree next to the house
that made an excellent ladder, if you
were careful…..
At last,
just as the first gray glow of false dawn began to make everything dim and
shadowy, he heard the scrabble of feet on the balcony ledge behind him and
fingers on the roof-edge. Kaito didn’t
bother to turn around; after the first few fumbling ascents, their childhood
selves had carefully nailed a length of knotted rope trailing down from the
ridge. Besides, Aoko’d
have his hide if he acted even remotely like he didn’t think she could make it
up on her own…..
She said
nothing as she came up behind him, carefully making her way across the narrow
ridge; the teenager smiled a little to himself as her
soft movements told him that she had changed from her dress. *That*
sound was the rasp of denim against denim, and *that* one the faint rasp of a sock snagging on a roof-shingle;
hence, jeans again. Good. Not that he didn’t
appreciate the dress, but…..
….. jeans
were more Aoko to him.
She sat down
carefully behind him, only a foot or so away and uncharacteristically quiet;
the dim light gave little of her expression away as he shifted so that his legs
trailed down the slant of the roof beside hers.
“Thanks….. for the trick and all…
The roses were really nice,” she said, and the note of shyness in Aoko’s voice made him nervous; Aoko, *shy*??
*That’s stupid—she’s never shy. But…. I guess things are a little different
now… aren’t they?* In an effort to diffuse the sharp angles of
his nerves he grinned at her through the gray dawn. “Yeah, well, I’m glad you liked it… Bet Saguru-chan
didn’t like his trick half as well—“
As expected,
she broke into a scowl and her eyes flashed; a few of his spikier nerve-endings
smoothed out at that. “Kaitooooo…….. You
should NOT have done that to poor Hakuba-kun—“ and he
reflected that if there had been a mop handy, that would’ve been *it* for
him. Speaking of which-- He fumbled in one pocket for his second gift, one he had only found the
previous day.
“Wanna see another trick?”
She eyed him
suspiciously, but there was a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. “Well…….”
He beamed at
her, all sparkling eyes and grin. “Close
your eyes and hold out your hand, palm up…….
Oh, c’mon, I SWEAR I won’t
give you a—a live squid again, or anything like that. No frogs, insects, worms or any other type of
wildlife.”
The young
woman smirked at him. “Not even a—fish?”
He
shuddered. “DEFINITELY not.”
Aoko
hesitated; then, with the slightly wary trust he was used to, she did as he
requested. A moment later she blinked at
the small object that lay glittering in her hand—a tiny silver pin, no more
than an inch or so long. The craftsman
had done their work well, although she couldn’t imagine what had made them make
a…..
…..”It’s a
*mop*…..” she said wonderingly, turning the tiny thing over in her
fingers. “WHERE did you find a—a mop
pin?”
Kaito was
watching her with his head tilted a little to one side, that curious little
smile of his (the one he got when he was happy and couldn’t bring himself to
let it out) present..
“Oh, in some little shop….. I
don’t really remember. Ummm, do you like it?”
The girl
couldn’t help it; her face broke into a grin as wide as any of his. “Mm-hm…..” She fastened it onto her sweatshirt with
careful fingers, giggled a little. “Now
I’ll never be without my mop, so you’d better just *watch* it, Kaito-kun. One false move and you’re DOOMED.” A bubble of happiness seemed to be swelling
up inside of her, despite her threatening words. She crossed her sock-clad ankles happily,
leaning just a little back and staring up at the cloudy sky overhead. “This has been the best birthday yet.”
Silence then
for a few minutes, the companionable silence between two people who understand
that quiet can have its own lyrics and tempo-- two people who have the tune
memorized and recognize the same beat.
It was so very calm, so still—
--they might
have been the only people awake in the entire world. It made him smile.
The sky was
getting a little brighter now, and the wind was beginning to rise with the
sun. Aoko’s
dark hair drifted back from her face, more than a little disheveled—her careful
makeup from the night before was a bit smeared, and (to Kaito’s rather
remarkable nose) she could probably use a quick shower.
And they *still* had to go to school today….. oh joy;
he knew he should head home. One last
thing, though……
She was
watching him sideways, that fiery, half-mischievous half-wary gleam in her eyes
again—she always made him think of fireworks when she looked like that. Dangerous, definitely— beautiful,
absolutely….. quick to dissipate and change shape, and you never knew if they
were going to do what you *expected* them to do or blow up in your face and
make you really, REALLY sorry.
That was
half the challenge and a hell of a lot of the fun, if you asked Kuroba Kaito.
He smiled a
little, watching the first red-golden rays creeping past the grayness of false
dawn; the thin beams of light outlined things gently, smoothing the rooftops
with fingers that were as yet still cool and chaste but which would warm and
become more certain as time passed.
There was just enough light to see by……
He fished yet again in his capacious pockets. “Um, Aoko?
Want to see how your pin looks on you?
Here—” What he passed her was (to her evident
amusement) a woman’s compact mirror; what she didn’t *know* was how often he used that sort of thing to see around
corners when he was Kid. She opened it
with a dubious look—then stopped short at what was inside.
Kaito held
his breath.
The wreath
of four-leaf-clovers shone molten in the early light as the sun’s rays traced
it like curious fingers; Aoko slowly hooked one finger beneath the chain,
lifting it up so the pendant could spin gently before her eyes. “Kai… Kaito?”
He could
feel the blood burning in his cheeks. *C’mon, Kuroba, you’re an international
jewel-thief, adored by millions (well, hundreds maybe) and wanted in a number
of countries (considering that they don’t know you’re not Dad). You can handle this; you’re intelligent,
you’re clever, you’re--*
*………………she’s looking at me……………………….*
*…….. you’re a hopeless romantic and
utterly brain-dead, and now you’re in deep trouble because you just did an
irrevocable thing. You Changed the
Rules.*
She *was* looking at him, and with an oddly
indecipherable expression. “Kaito? Is this really for me?”
Nod nod. He felt like an
idiot. *Oh jeeze, Aoko, please don’t just toss it
off the roof--*
She was
still just looking at him, as if making up her mind. Those eyes of hers, they weren’t full of the
usual fire….. no, right now they were more like….. banked coals, glimmering in
the depths of a fireplace. Sparks and
stars…..
This was why
he had risked Changing the Rules—going from the safe familiarity of
Kaito-kun-and-Aoko-kun to simply Kaito and Aoko, just two more people in the
world who might actually want to be with each other. That wonderful fire inside her, the same fire
that made her angry and happy and fierce—it burned a person if they got too
close, sure enough; but sometimes burning was worth it.
Burning…..
the sun was almost half-way up; *Aoko…..?*
She moved
then, and his heart sank into his socks as she gently placed the necklace and
compact in his nerveless hands and turned her back on him, shifting slightly so
she faced away. “Um….. Aoko? Are you—mad at me? I just sort of thought that….. I mean, I thought……” His heart fell flat in his chest when she
didn’t turn back. “I’m screwed, aren’t
I? I just messed things up royally. I….. if I hurt your feelings or, or
embarrassed you, I’m sorry… I… I’m…an idiot, I guess—I just wanted to give you…
something different. Something that was…
sort of special... and I guess I’m… I, uh…….. well, shit.”
Still she
faced away. But now Aoko seemed to be
making some sort of sound, a sharp indrawing of
breath that was somehow a little broken, a little staggered, a little unsteady…
*Oh man, she’s not… she’s not CRYING, is
she? You screwed up goddamn big this
time, you ass…..* Then her breath
caught again; she choked—and he realized she was *laughing*.
*Laughing? At… at ME?
Or—uhhh……* Kaito’s
synapse seemed to have fused; he simply hadn’t a clue why the hell she should
be laughing.
“You… you
think you hurt my feelings by
giving me this?” Aoko’s
words were as unsteady with laughter as her breathing had been a moment
before. “You think you—you *screwed
up*?? Kaito—“ Her voice broke for
a moment, and he saw her raise one hand as if to wipe away tears. “You ARE
an idiot, you know? Stupid, stupid— idiot.”
“Uhhhhhh…..” If the
whole rooftop had erupted suddenly in cops screaming Kaito Kid, Put Your Hands Up! he couldn’t have moved. All he could think was *I didn’t? I didn’t screw it
up? I DIDN’T screw it up? I REALLY didn’t screw it up?* as she
glanced back over one shoulder.
Aoko’s
eyes were full of that fire again, but softer now despite the redness of her
cheeks. She was smiling—no, she was
still laughing a little, and with both hands she reached behind her head to
lift her thick mass of hair away from her neck.
“So… stop being an idiot and put it on me,
okay?”
For a
magician, his hands could be remarkably unsteady at times; Kaito almost
couldn’t get the clasp closed… but somehow he managed. Beneath his hands her skin was very warm;
against her skin his fingers were very gentle.
And then she
simply leaned back against him, still facing away but comfortable and
relaxed. And he sat where he was on the
very end of the ridgepole, watching the sun rise with Aoko, happier than he
could ever remember being in his entire life.
****************************************************************************************************************************
YSABET’S NOTES: Well, if that wasn’t a sappy
pile of Waff I don’t know what it was….. Be assured, it won’t remain all fuzzy
sweetness. Got the heist next time—I
sort of hoped I could do it THIS chapter, but the party took on a life of its
own. And the Kitten From Hell—mustn’t
forget the Kitten….. I did *NOT* plan
the Kitten, it just sort of arrived; and when it did, I planned on making it
love Kaito. Does anybody *else* out
there find their characters changing as they type, right under their fingertips
without apparent input from the author’s mind? …..sweatdrop….. The scene with Akako
popped up on its own, too….. Oh, by the
way, sorry about not having peacocks here; I intended to put them in, but the
plot changed again (surprise, surprise).
One more comment: I got a surprised
word or two from my friends who beta-read this, wondering why I didn’t have
Aoko and Kaito kiss each other at the end of this. Well—you know, I thought about it a litte, and they’ve been friends for a long, long time; it’s
hard to change the level of physical intimacy you’ve had for years, MUCH harder
than changing a mental or verbal level.
I married my best friend, so I actually have a little experience in this
one—we ran around together for nearly 4 years before we ever even dated. Soooooo….. just
keep watching.
Next time? The heist… and the consequences. Truths and lies and maybe those damned
peacocks at last. Please review,
okay? @ _^