A crack in the wall.
It was funny how everything started like that, so small, so tiny, disguised like what normal life would masquerade as— something insignificant that you looked at and threw away, just to have it be a seed and sprout tsunamis to crash down in your life.
Really. Simple things. A detour home. A missed bus. An incorrect address.
A phone call.
He hadn’t checked the number when it had rang, early in the morning with uniform half buttoned and a piece of toast hostage between his teeth; bag half packed and late. Not for school, oh no— Half hopes of Aoko not having awoken yet crushed as he stuffed a dress in his bag and finally picked up the phone, sliding it neatly between his shoulder and ear as he randomly threw in a bag of googly eyes in the front pocket—
“It’s 5 AM, Ahoko, what the hell are you doing awake?”
He irritably asked, with a hint of a yawn. No one called him this early to annoy him except her—though Hakuba was high on his list of possible suspects (calling him just before a heist with Chat Noir, really?). His newly renewed daily program of pranking his childhood friend would have to be cancelled just to be doubled on another day—
"Hello, Applejack.”
He remembers the bag dropping to the ground.
Perhaps shock had been his first reaction but anger had been his second; he’s not sure how he got through the school day at all. He remembers an askance about going to the mall today just for him to shoot it down with a lie that he was going somewhere with his mom; something stupid like that.
The bag slung over his shoulder now is deceptively light. His heart is beating too fast, too fast, like a hamster feet beating furiously at the neverending wheel in it’s cage— his vision is out of focus and his reality is surreal and untrue, a nightmare to wake from now, soon, PLEASE— No.
The moment he wakes up means his world’s end, with Nakamori-keibu and his mother and Aoko dead on the ground— and who knew who else?
Kill the CEO, they had said.
He’s experienced death before, he’d experienced it even before the concept of death was solidified in his mind. Murder was a frequent intruder at his heists that played with people’s minds and hearts far more cruelly than he could ever imagine, so crude and crass was the subject that even the most elegant of executions could never render it beautiful.
It was the one showstopper that he had no intention of mastering.
Yet here he was.
He’d think he would learn how to stop things like this after Nightmare.
“Move it, Applejack, we’re ready on our end.”
The voice from the earpiece seemed a million miles away and Kaito didn’t bother answering—There’s a bug on him, he knows, they’re tracking him somehow and relaying directions to him through his earpiece and picking up what he’s saying; little ittie wibble Applejack on a mission, couldn’t be trusted. His fists automatically clenched. As if having his mom’s and Aoko’s life on the line wasn’t enough.
He’s wearing black as per the organization dresscode; he personally thought it was stupid but he wasn’t going to argue on the little things, he can’t argue on the little things, when he’s going to—
The press conference the CEO is doing is well on it’s way. He passes the building it takes place in and into the alleyway of the building across— he’s studied the blue prints. He knows where to go.
And that scares him.
He picks the rooftop lock of the building easily and opens his bag as he tries to steady his breath— he’s gotten sniper training, despite his vehement refusals to learn the skill. He doesn’t want to learn something that one used purely to kill.
Assembling the gun comes on automatic though his hands stumble on the pieces; knowing and doing are two very different things and he doesn’t want to do this, can’t do this, someone please stop him— the gun in his hands make it all to real and his heart is beating like crazy even as he tries to keep his breath even, his mind grounded because he was being monitored but this is against every fiber of his being.
He’d never caused a death be—
Well, Nightmare was one thing.
But he’d never willingly killed a person before.
A crack in the wall.
He sets up the sniper rifle and peers through the scope, the crosshairs on the head and he can already imagine the blood spraying everywhere as his breath quickened— no, he’s going to miss at this rate, Kaito, you can’t afford to miss, SLOW DOWN— But it’s so hard to. He has to miss, has to miss but then everyone close to him died—
A wedge is driven through.
He adjusts his ear piece, a nervous tick as he tried to calm his shaking hands and he can’t. miss. His tongue ran over his dry lips and breathing exercises. One. Two.
“I’m ready.” Were his words— Earpiece guy would be waiting for the green light and he’s not going to mess this up. Can’t mess this up, even if he just wants to put the gun on his head and pull the trigger.
He has to do this, he rationalizes with himself. Has to, he thinks, gritting his teeth.
His mom. Aoko. Nakamori-keibu.
His world was falling to pieces.
It was just a flash that the detective caught… a familiar sight, an all-too familiar feeling that plucked at Hakuba’s mind and drew his attention. He knew this eerie, creeping sensation. He’d felt it so many times before, but this moved in his gut with the distinct impression that something was wrong.
Without a word, he pulled away from the crowd, making his way after the figure that he knew all too well. What was he doing here? There was nothing worth stealing, no information really worth getting, even. KID hadn’t announced a heist for the evening… perhaps he was casing the area for a future event. If so, well… it was the perfect opportunity to drop in on the thief and catch him proactively.
“And here I thought all good thieves made their intentions known before hand,” Hakuba said, voice mocking in playful banter. Of course, that laughter only lasted an additional 2.46 seconds before abruptly cutting off at the sight of the firearm in his dear classmate’s hands.
