Chapter Text
A burst of frigid air greeted Kaito and Shinichi as they burst onto the roof, furthering themselves from the sharp flurry of gunfire originating faintly from behind. The smell of sulfur and nitroglycerin trailed after them, along with the gaseous remnants of one of Kaito's smoke bombs.
The low whirling buzz of one—no, at least two—helicopters sent a spike of dread directly through Kaito's heart. By the tightening of Shinichi's grip, he knew the other felt a similar trepidation. He clicked his tongue in irritation.
"This is bad," Kaito murmured with a grimace, voicing what they no doubt both felt. He heard Shinichi hum in agreement, watching sharp azure orbs dance over his injuries before Kaito turned his attention towards their next plan of action.
He studied the rooftop, taking in its barren state and a peculiar lack of utilities that most buildings in Seoul offered on the top of their residential buildings. Kaito had planned to have something to work with for cover and possibly for a diversion. Even a small garden or a vending machine would have been acceptable to work with. Unlucky.
The detective he was resting his weight on spoke lowly, revealing similar thoughts.
"The glider is too damaged from earlier, and there's no use in scaling down the building if they have air support. They'll spot us immediately." Shinichi grit his teeth as he continued, his eyes studying the edge of the building. "It is too high for us to jump. We could loop back in the building if we have a distraction, but there's no guarantee." He trailed off uncertainly, and Kaito could hear his mind racing to find a solution. Some undetermined way for them to escape together.
But Kaito had been an escape artist for far longer than Shinichi. He was painfully aware that they had extinguished all their other options earlier.
"You could, probably." Kaito agreed, his tone somber. "But with this..." The magician gestured to the dual gunshot wounds embedded in his hip and left leg. He shook his head lightly, casting his gaze into Shinichi's meaningfully. "Even if I wasn't leaving a trail for them, my movement is too impaired."
If it wasn't for the adrenaline, shock, and practice with maneuvering with these kinds of injuries, Kaito doubted he would be moving at all in his current state.
Shinichi's desperate expression told him the other already understood the limiting factor of Kaito's wounds, but he was trying to grasp onto something; anything. There has to be a way out, his expression screamed.
Kaito couldn't bring himself to reassure the detective. Instead, he rubbed his thumb over the other arm comfortingly, his other arm actively thrown over Shinichi's shoulder to allow the other to carry his weight. Otherwise, Kaito wouldn't have been able to run fast enough to follow Shinichi to the roof.
Their wordless discussion paused as their eyes darted from the approaching helicopters to the roof entrance, where they could hear the encroaching sound of gunfire become louder. They were running out of time to make a plan, to come to a decision.
"Shinichi," he breathed with a note of alarm, "You need to go. I can't follow you, but I can still run a diversion if you—" Kaito's efforts to dislodge himself from Shinichi's hold and to explain his plan was cut off by the Detective.
"Idiot!" Shinichi hissed, his eyes alight with fury and panic as he held Kaito's arm in a firm grip, disallowing him from attempting to carry his weight. "I won't leave you. I won't!" He declared with a note of desperation that Kaito felt deeply.
"I won't leave you," Shinichi repeated, his words ringing with a fatal finality.
Kaito swallowed, the implication clear. He didn't try to move away again.
"I promised, remember?" Shinichi murmured to him softly, and despite the gravity of his voice and this situation, Shinichi's eyes were warm.
Kaito felt his lips twist upwards, despite himself. He let himself curl further into Shinichi's hold, inhaling his scent thoroughly and relishing in his warmth before he spoke again.
"This is it, then. We'll take them out and escape." That was their only option. His grip on the large gem in his hands tightened to something painful. "And if not, then..."
It would be all over, was unsaid.
"Then we'll take some of them with us," Shinichi hissed instead, his expression dark and desperate.
Kaito grinned viciously at the declaration, "Exactly."
Shinichi helped Kaito position himself right of the only entrance door, and Shinichi took the left. They had little to work with in terms of cover, leaving them little to work with lest they leave themselves to get shot without a fight at all. But they would make due like they always had in situations like this.
They had no other option.
The only warning they received was a stampede of footsteps and shouting before the doors burst open with instantaneous gunfire. Everything after that was a blur of coordinated firing between both parties. Kaito and Shinichi managed to take several syndicate members down, but it was a futile effort. They were severely outnumbered, and he could hear back-up coming from the floor beneath them. Not to mention the incoming air support.
Kaito saw it before it happened. He saw the man fire the weapon and saw the trajectory before the bullet hit. He glanced back at the intended target, watching with a rising sense of horror as Shinichi sent his own round into another agent. Kaito knew he wouldn't have the reaction time to dodge.
Kaito couldn't stop himself as he cried out—screamed—but he was helpless.
Like a puppet with its strings cut, Shinichi dropped to the ground lifelessly. Kaito knew his partner wouldn't be getting back up, not with the red spilling directly from the bullet wound kissing his hairline. Even with Kaito's luck, that's not something any man can survive.
Despite that, Kaito couldn't turn his gaze away. There was something yelled out by another agent, and he could hear the cruel lilt of their words but didn't process what they were. He knew he should be moving to take another shot, to avenge Shinichi, but it was as though his body was trapped in concrete and sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor. He couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe.
The horror and loss he felt at that moment were unfathomable.
There was a shot, far too close, but Kaito didn't try to dodge it. His eyes didn't waver from Shinichi's body. Not once.
The gem clutched tightly in his left hand was scorching hot in his hand as he processed pain and then nothing at all.
He woke up in a frantic panic, gasping desperately for air. The image of Shinichi laying on that rooftop, lifeless and painted with blood, terrorized his senses. Kaito couldn't stop his body from quaking and trembling in the aftermath, feeling as though his breath was trapped in his lungs. He was bathed in a sense of horror and agony that he couldn't dispel and refused to waver. It pressed down on him mercilessly as Kaito simply struggled to breathe.
He cast his gaze around himself wildly, searching frantically for Shinichi or some similar reassurance that what he had seen had simply been a terrible nightmare. Kaito froze as his surroundings began to register, his frantic movement stilling to a baseline trembling.
The Phantom Thief didn't recognize where he was at all.
This place was familiar, but he didn't recognize it as one of their safe houses. Kaito's eyes traced his surroundings, looking for anything telling of his location.
Single bedroom. Second floor. Well furnished. No weapons. No medical equipment. Two exits that he could easily discern. And Kaito frowned because he wasn't bound, and Shinichi couldn't have brought him here because—
Kaito stopped the train of thought as much as he could, trying to focus on figuring out something before his eyes were caught on a very familiar picture.
Kuroba Toichi's portrait stared at him, and Kaito stared back because that portrait had been destroyed years ago, along with his home, when the Organization discovered his civilian identity. For a brief moment, fury rocked through him as he considered the replica being a cruel joke before another implication of that painting being there caused him to reconsider his surroundings.
And oh, he realized faintly, this is my old bedroom.
Looking at it now, he recognized the soft crème color of the walls and the dark matcha green painted ceiling of his childhood bedroom. Kaito's eyes traced the twin bed he was laying on to the desk, he recalled replacing after Aoko had thrown it one too many times, and then to the bookcase where he displayed a lot of the Kaitou KID paraphernalia he had started collecting after his debut.
Kaito sat uncomprehending, completely still for a long moment, simply trying to figure out if he'd gone crazy or if this was some kind of sick joke. It felt as though his ears were ringing, as though the domestic silence of this house and its neighborhood was screaming right at him. He felt the familiar bamboo cotton sheets underneath him, focusing on the feeling as he simply tried to breathe.
The door opened, and Kaito was flooded with panic before he recognized the figure in the doorway.
"Kaito, you're going to be late!" Chikage admonished him. "You promised to go out with Aoko today— " Her voice seemed to grind to halt as she looked at him, her expression twisting into something resembling concern. The older woman took several steps closer to him, studying him, but Kaito didn't— couldn't react because his mother was there.
His mother was there and alive.
"Kaito? Hey, look at me..." She knelt before him, and Kaito couldn't still his eyes as he took in his mother's visage.
He still remembered the call he had received from foreign officers, asking him questions to investigate the bizarre circumstances of her death. She had escaped the blazing of the Kuroba household, only to be hit not but weeks later. Kaito hadn't be prepared for her to get caught up in his mission.
He hadn't been prepared for the Organization to take both of his parents.
To see her now, after all those years looking unchanged from his memories, was a spear directly through his chest. He thought distantly, this was probably some elaborate set-up to break him, but let himself sink into the fantasy regardless. After all, Shinichi was dead, wasn't he? Oh, gods, Shinichi was dead. Nothing else mattered—
Shadows began to congregate at the corners of his vision.
"Kaito, you have to breathe. I want you to match me, okay? Inhale..." She guided him through the motions of breathing steadily, crowding his space, and rubbing his back soothingly. Kaito eventually managed to follow her example, reminded vividly of when Shinichi forced him similarly after his panic attacks. The thought nearly sent him into another fit, but he continued to follow Chikage's instructions to the best of his ability.
"That's better. Oh, Kaito..." His mother touched his face, gently wiping something away with her hands. And oh, those were tears. He was crying.
"Mom," he croaked. "You're here; you're alive." Kaito babbled, finally finding the ability to speak. Hysteria colored his words, and his voice shook.
He couldn't clearly discern her reaction in the dimly lit room and through his tears, but she held him closer, making small shushing noises as she comforted him. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
Kaito simply allowed her to hold him, not saying anything else, simply reveling in the solace of his mother's arms. Even though she had traveled frequently, she had always been a steady pillar of his life. The idea of having her here and solid have her here, even if it were an act, was incredibly comforting.
He missed her dearly.
Exhausted and lost in a buzz of soft, sweet condolences, Kaito didn't remember falling asleep.