Chapter Text
Suffice to say, Kaito thinks this heist will be one of the easiest yet!
Tomorrow’s stage will be a 5-star hotel in the heart of Tokyo and showtime is at 2100 hours—or 9:00 p.m. for those who don’t prefer 24-hour time. And at this moment, he’s riding the elevator, key card at the ready, and disguise in place. Though, today’s definition of disguise is themed around darker shades to set him apart from 1412’s signature white. And the brown eye contacts don’t hurt. He grins to himself, tugging the brim of his dark hat lower as his ascent to the 9th floor nears its end.
Under his instruction, Jii had checked out this room three days ago and promptly checked out of as soon as Kaito procured a copy of the room’s key card. Kaito had already swung by two days ago, disguised as a maid tasked with cleaning duty, and set up a few things. Today will be his last preparation day. This room is one of three he’s designated as his escape room; however, this one currently ranks as his primary exit with the other two serving as back-ups.
The elevator comes to a stop, signaling its arrival. As the door slides open, he takes a moment to admire himself in the reflection of the elevator’s reflective gold interior. Just as he’s about to step out, a man rushes in, lugging a single travel briefcase with him. Kaito notes the man’s disheveled appearance: loose tie, pale blue button-up hastily tucked into brown slacks and left unbuttoned from the third button up, and a sweaty sheen on his forehead.
A businessman bordering on late for his flight is his guess. He easily disregards the man as it’s none of his business—especially when he has more important things to take care of. Kaito simply nods in greeting and steps off. As he approaches furthest room of the east wing, he flicks his right hand and the key card appears between his middle and pointer fingers. With a quiet hum, he ambles towards room 917. The maids would have stopped by earlier today according to the schedule he had peeked at and since no one should be occupying the room between today and the day after tomorrow, now is the time to check if his preparations have been disturbed.
Kaito slides the card through the reader once he reaches the door. Once he confirms it’s been unlocked, he opens the door and slips in, shutting it quietly behind him. Given the late hour and the closed blinds, Kaito finds himself immersed in darkness once the light of the hall is blocked by the door bar the thin stripe from the bottom. As a precaution, he refrains from switching on the light and opts for a small flashlight.
His first move is to check the balcony which overlooks the city. From there, he plans to make his escape via hang glider, but should that be impossible, he at least hopes to release a decoy to throw the Taskforce off his trail. Kaito suspects he won’t be needing to as Hakuba’s in England for one reason or another and shouldn’t be back for another month. And his only worthy opponent seems to have disappeared…
Just as he’s about to cross the threshold separating the entry and the living room, Kaito’s trained ears pick up on a quiet sound. He can’t place it, but he knows the origin of it is somewhere to his left. Cautiously, he turns his light off and debates making an exit to avoid confrontation. It’s a safe bet. He does have the other two rooms to fall back on and the things he had left for tomorrow won’t compromise his identity if they do end up being secured by the police.
But...
What if the police are here waiting to ambush him? The Taskforce? Maybe one of the staff noticed something. Or what if he had been mistaken and someone had indeed booked the room?
Curiosity gets the better of him and Kaito moves towards the source. He exchanges the flashlight in his hand for his card gun. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he manages to glimpse… hands?
Yes. Hands. Those are pale hands splayed across the oakwood floor. Kaito’s eyes go wide and his card gun almost slips from his hand. Without wasting another second, he grabs his flashlight, switching it on and shining the thin beam down to see an unconscious, bloodied face of a boy who didn’t look any older than seventeen or eighteen at most.
Laying low be damned! Kaito scrambles for more light than his flashlight could provide and his hands find a lamp sitting on a closeby side table. In his haste to turn it on, he almost knocks it over, but he catches it and pulls on the string. The warm white light illuminates a decent part of the room. And, able to see more clearly, he recognizes the boy as none other than Kudō Shinichi.
“I always thought he was my age,” he murmurs. At age 21, Kaito likes to pride himself on becoming the man his father had been shaping him out to be. “Irrelevant. Gotta make sure he’s alive first.”
Kaito pauses to assess the damage. A blow to the head seems likely. Judging by the way the blood is concentrated just above his forehead, he can at least deduce that Kudō had been hit from the front—probably saw his attacker then. That’s good. A quick case closed.
As he drops to his knees, Kaito brings his fingers closer to Kudō’s neck only to recoil when vivid blue eyes snap open.
“I didn’t do it,” he blurts out. Immediately after, his cheeks color. Of course he didn’t do it! And Kudō must know as well, judging by the raised eyebrow.
“‘Course you didn’t,” Kudō says, his voice slurred and thick with—exhaustion? Pain? “You’re… Kid… ‘cept I thought your eyes were… in’go…”