Tag Archives: fanfic

by

Spark – Chapter 2 (fanfic)

Summary: Hakuba is murdered after Conan refuses to help him with a case. While the circumstances surrounding his death seem straightforward enough, things become complicated after Conan begins to receive letters from Hakuba 45 days later. Using the clues and journals left for him, Conan must forge unexpected alliances to discover the truth behind their shared ‘Boscombe’ secrets.

Chapter one can be read on tumblr, fnet, or ao3. Many thanks to my beta readers! <3

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Chapter 2

It’s strange, the concept of truth.

 Proving the physical, the act of what happened, is a simple matter: if a person has ended the life of another person, they have killed. There is no question about that. Remove the bias of human emotion and motive and you are left with nothing but the concrete facts that can be used in court, all of which fits very neatly into the standardized reports that we’re required to fill out at headquarters.

Distancing ourselves from the human element allows us to accurately determine these things, yes, but leaves no allowance for justified circumstances; no exceptions for the Boscombe secrets that we come across in our work. It’s the letter of the law versus the spirit of the law. Yet the process of this, which allows us to decipher such events, jeopardizes the very point and purpose of law, and our meaning and worth as detectives.

It’s not enough to have the concrete. This is what sets the true professionals apart from the amateurs. Those who can separate the id and the super ego, filtering through the relative truths according to each perspective, and resolve it all into one: the fullest truth.

We detectives are, in the end, the seekers of that whole and complete truth.

Conan read the hand-written words in the leather-bound journal, glossing over its proposed meaning, then turned the page. It was just past 7 am, no more than fourteen hours since Hakuba had left the Mouri Detective Agency. Each attempt to call the foreign detective had taken Hattori to voicemail. He didn’t answer for Conan, either; not from his phone, nor the one listed for Kudou Shinichi. Megure had his team call the Hakuba house phone and the personal line of the Superintendent General.

In the end, it only took about an hour to confirm what he had feared: Hakuba was already dead. He’d been strangled in his own bedroom while the staff and his governess slept in the rooms nearby. Once the word got out that the Superintendent General’s son had been murdered, the best in their fields had been called in.

This, fortunately for Conan, included Mouri Kogoro.

The first entry in the journal was dated fifteen days ago, the second entry fourteen, and so on. He turned the page again, noting the dates, and continued to flip through the book. Black ink; neat and orderly. Each word written in careful English. There were fourteen in total; an entry for every day, except for yesterday. Some several pages long, some only a single sentence.

He flipped to the last entry in the book.

I’m being watched. Contingencies remain. Take care.

“Oi, little boy, what are you doing here?”

Conan glanced up from the book to find a white gloved hand, palm up and expectant. His gaze traveled up the arm and to the face of the officer who’d questioned him. “Eh? I’m Mouri-san’s apprentice!”

The young officer kept his hand extended, waiting, apparently unimpressed by the explanation. “Is that evidence?”

“Yeah.” There was something distinctly off about him that Conan didn’t quite trust. He turned the book over in his hands, then flipped it open to a random page. “It’s Hakuba-niisan’s journal, I think… but it’s written in English, so I can’t read it.”

“You shouldn’t be touching it, apprentice or not.”

Conan let his eyes stray to the writing on the page— I wonder, sometimes, how the criminals stand us detectives, doling out judgments and facts without understanding circumstances –then back to the man, tilting his head. “I don’t recognize you.”

The fraction of a second longer that it took the officer to respond than he should have told the young detective everything he needed to know. “…I’m new.”

No. He wasn’t new. Conan had seen him many times before, though it usually wasn’t at murder scenes. “Oh! Did you just get here?”

“Yeah.”

Conan could see it all, then. The disguise was rushed, the man pale, trembling in his uniform that was just a little too big for his frame. No time for additional padding? He smirked, fingers curling around the journal in his hands. Of course he would come. Hakuba was one of the detectives on the forefront of the task force; he probably had a ton of information about Kaitou KID. Why else would he risk coming to his house with cops swarming all over the place?

Bastard.

“I can fill you in if you want!” Despite the burning temptation to expose the thief right then and there, he forced himself to stay calm, instead giving that sickeningly sweet smile, chipper. Too chipper for being in the bedroom of the detective who’d just been murdered.

It shook KID, who blinked at him several times before nodding, distracted. “Uh. Sure.” His voice was strained. Tense. He was nervous.

Good.

“Hakuba-niisan was attacked last night… strangled to death by his necktie, right there in that armchair.” Conan watched his expression carefully, noting the thin line his lips had become. “They came in through that window. It was kind of weird, though…”

“Weird?”

“Yeah. The officers said there was no sign of forced entry and that the window musta’ been unlocked. And there’s no security footage, ‘cause even though there’s a camera right out there,” he pointed through the open window to the dormant camera wedged under the overhang, “it’s been off for weeks. So no one knows who came in.”

A few more seconds and the officer nodded, looking from the chair to the camera, then back to Conan. “Ah,” he said, voice distant.

“A couple of the officers think that it might have been Kaitou KID.”

There was a twitch at the faux-officer’s eye and he hesitated again, gaze growing colder. Obviously, he’d hit a nerve.

“And why is that?”

“Well…” Conan rocked back and forth on his heels, tucking the journal under his arm, and brought his other hand to his chin. “Think about it. Hakuba-niisan’s one of the few people who’s ever come close to catching KID, so it makes sense that he’d get rid of him, right?”

When the officer only tugged at the brim of his hat, Conan continued.  

“But who knows. It’d be kind of ironic, though, ‘cause we think he fell asleep in front of the fireplace reading A Christmas Carol when he was attacked. The book was still open on his lap when we got here, right at the part about the ghost of Christmas Future. Ghosts, phantoms, phantom thief…” Conan gestured to the little end table where the book had been placed, then turned back to KID, who stared on in silence. “You shoulda seen the body.”

“Where is it?” he whispered.

“They took it away hours ago. It only takes, like, 10-15 seconds to fall unconscious when being strangled if you put the right pressure on… whoever did it was a real expert. He probably didn’t even have a chance to fight.” Conan shrugged and shook his head, as if it were a shame. “His nails were scrubbed clean, too. No evidence of who was in here. He was probably dead within two minutes. There was hardly any blood.”

Fake or not, the officer looked distinctly ill.

“I got lots of crime scene photos on my phone, though. Look.” Conan dug out his cellphone with one hand, but he scarcely had time to log in before KID snatched the journal away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, gripping the book in desperation. Blackmail?

“Oi.” Conan held up his phone, and the officer turned away. “Don’t you think KID will be relieved that one of his detectives is gone?”

“No one would be pleased…”

“So why are you here, KID? Had to see for yourself that this threat was gone?”

“Death isn’t something to ever be celebrated!

With a snort, Conan nodded at the journal. “And that? Making sure that there’s nothing in there about you?”

“I’m just being thorough.” His voice turned cold, harsh. “Put your phone away.”

The boy gave a bitter laugh. “Can’t handle it, KID?”

“You don’t have any idea…” KID stopped, glancing up and over at the rest of the room as two more officers came in to continue the investigation of the normally orderly room, forcing filing drawers open, digging through the compartment under the window bench seat.

“Oi!” Conan called to one of them, waving an arm. “Oi, I think this officer’s a fake!”

It drew immediate attention, but by the time Conan turned around, KID was gone.

Dammit!

They combed the house for clues, tore apart the bedroom, confiscated Hakuba’s laptop and many other personal effects, but there was no more evidence to be found. He hadn’t been lying about it having been a professional job; there were no footprints, only the slightest traces of mud in the windowsill from the hedges just outside; no finger prints, no torn skin, no loose hairs, nothing. Just quietly murdered in the safety and comfort of his own home.

And while the Superintendent General barked orders at Megure and his team, Kogoro falling into step like old times, Hakuba’s Baaya stood in the hallway and sobbed into a handkerchief.

The autopsy report indicated that Hakuba Saguru had ingested a shot of scotch that night, which was stated to be normal behavior by his governess. There were no other drugs or toxins in his system. Other than the bruise on his cheek from the previous night, the only injury he’d sustained was the crushed windpipe from the tie garrote. Uncomfortable, yes, but an almost merciful death from an assassin.

They had no leads, no witnesses, and no ideas – other than the organization’s potential involvement, but even then, who did Conan know who used strangulation as their method of choice? Not Gin or Vodka, probably not Vermouth… most of the organization members he knew preferred to use guns. It was a dead end.

“The Metropolitan police are scratching their heads at the disturbingly quiet murder of the Superintendent General’s son, Hakuba Saguru, a famous international detective, who was strangled to death in his own home the other night… It seems that despite having all of their homicide detectives working on the case, no headway is being made, so it’s no wonder General Hakuba has allegedly called in some private investigators to continue looking into things on the side…”

It’d been days since the murder, and Mouri’s part in the investigation was still ongoing. They’d turned the briefcase in, given their statements of their personal involvement, and had agreed to stay on to help look for any more leads. But Conan already knew that if there had been anything of use, it’d have been in that journal, which Kaitou KID now had.

“Look! Look, Ran! Your old man is almost on!”

Ran and Conan both turned away from their homework to glance at the newscast on TV, which now had a photo of Kogoro among some other, more famous private investigators.

“They better use my voice clip!” Kogoro was in rare form.

“It’s a real tragedy,” the voice of one Mogi Harufumi took over, and footage of him speaking soon followed. The man wiped a tear from his eye, then shrugged, hands up. “He was a good kid, a real fine detective. Always willing to lend a hand or a few bucks when needed. We detectives look out for each other. He’s really going to be missed… but don’t worry, buddy, we’ll catch that bad guy for you!”

Just behind him in the background, Souda Ikumi was in the middle of rolling her eyes before the video feed cut back to the news reporter, who looked professionally sympathetic.

“Although the Superintendent General was unable to be reached for comment, we have been assured that the rest of the Hakuba family is, in fact, safe… and that they wish to thank to all of the hardworking men and women who have been on the case, as well extend their gratitude for all of the well-wishes and support in this troubling time.”

As the newscaster gave her closing statements about making offerings at local shrines, Kogoro slapped a hand on his desk and shook a fist at the television. “They didn’t even let me speak! I was at the scene!”

“Tou-san…” Ran chided him gently, tired.

Conan glanced to where the briefcase had been tucked away and frowned at the aching lump in his throat. He’d been there, sitting across from him on that couch. He’d asked for help. Was there something he could have done?

“Oh—we’ve just received notice from a special guest,” the reporter said, abandoning the discussion of ribbon day when a crew member pushed a white card into her hands. “It seems that Kaitou KID has condolences to offer, himself… Can we get this on screen?”

The card took over the broadcast, written carefully, caricature in the bottom right-hand corner as usual.

“The upcoming heist has been canceled in light of the recent tragedy,” she read. “It has become clear to me that everyone’s time is far better spent hunting the bastards responsible instead of chasing a silly thief. Rest assured, I will return, and that there will be justice for death of my detective.”

But there would be no justice for Hakuba Saguru… not for a long time.

by

From kaitomagic: 

Because I’m not one to believe people can be described so simply… my answer is, as follows:
Tsundere – You’re sort of cold in a hostile way, sometimes… but you really are a softie.
Kuudere – I suppose the silent doesn’t quite fit, but you do act rather cool a lot of the time… seeming to warm up a bit more when people prove that they can be trusted?
Dandere – Quiet, but not quiet. I suppose what I mean here is more in regards to inner thoughts and feelings.
Dorodere – Very sweet, when you want to be. And I don’t mean to say that you’re disturbed, but there is definitely more behind that wall.
Deredere – I must admit, I’m quite fond of this side of you.

—

image

“Kaito-kun… that’s… so very kind of you to say. I… I’m speechless. To think that you’ve… well…” He coughed. “…Ah, let’s… ah… your prompt, let’s see.”

—

Oh, and also… @$$.

—

@ – Smut

$ – Fluff

$ – Fluff

image

“Aha… … haha… … I see what you did there… very well, then. Ah…”

—

image

Hakuba rolled up into a sit, letting the covers slip into his lap and sighed, hand rubbing the side of his face tiredly. The night had been eventful. Dinner with the force, being denied drinks at the bar, dealing with the traffic – oh god the traffic – and the paparazzi at the scene. The heist itself had been fine, of course. Kaitou Kid did what he did best; dazzle the crowd, make the officers look utterly foolish, steal the gem, lead them on a merry chase…

In the end, he’d returned the jewel and escaped with only one or two minor mishaps, but it was still a harrowing affair. For the detective, who now kept a field bag of medical supplies in his car in the event of any grievous injuries, any time Kid got a clean getaway was a good night. So contrary to what he’d said to the press, of course, but he was relieved. It meant that, two or three hours later, he’d see one dark-haired, overly confident ass, complete with smrk, sneak into the window of his bedroom.

Whether it was Kaitou or Kuroba changed depending on how well things had gone, but he always showed up sooner or later. Unless something went wrong, that is; in which case he’d be getting a text, potentially with a location and summary of injuries and the supplies he needed. 

That night, Kaito had come as a normal teenager, complete with backpack full of homework. He’d still snuck in through the window, sure, but it meant that he could join him for breakfast in the morning instead of having to sneak out again afterward. Once Hakuba had gotten him undressed and assessed the damage, one kiss at a time, they’d gone to bed.

Bruises he could handle. Scratches were to be expected. Hell, sprains and the like he could treat and still make love to him without worry. But even as their hearts pounded, and hands desperately grasped at sheets and naked skin, he worried. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t stop. Fingers curled into his hair and that hazy look, the quiet cries of his name, urged him. Yet always, he wondered if this would be their last time together. Even when tension brought a startled cry in the back of his throat, there was just that one niggling fear that he couldn’t get rid of.

How long would their luck hold out? 

Lying together in the still quiet was the detective’s most protected moments. Lazy kisses along his neck and cheek, gentle hand combing over bare skin as it cooled. Hakuba listened to Kaito’s breath, felt the beating of his heart, and allowed himself a contented sigh. It was a dangerous game that they played. Surely, it would be noticed eventually. Whether it would be Kaitou’s doing – too much of a longing gaze here, giving the heist up a little too easily there – or Hakuba’s, with his lulling aggression for the chase… it was bound to end.

These thoughts, ever present, plagued him until he sat up. Kaito watched him, lying on his side. One hand rested on his hip, the other held his head, brow curiously raised. The detective glanced down at the thief and pushed a small smile, though he knew that the thief could see right through it. 

“Kuroba-kun…” Hakuba said, then laughed at himself, quietly. He was so prone to slipping into the formalities that they’d kept up in their daily lives; it was almost ridiculous. “Apologies. Kaito. I just…” He sighed, and let his smile quirk slanted, more genuine. “Shall I make us some tea? I don’t know that I’ll ever get to sleep otherwise." 

Truthfully, he longed for the liquor cabinet or his pack of cigarettes, but he’d never get away with that with his lover there. Which was probably a good thing, really, given that it was a school night. But still, the headache that settled in begged for sleep, and Hakuba wanted nothing more than to slip  back into the covers and hold him.

It was just so difficult to do when the nightmares lurked so close at hand.

by

Spark – Chapter 1 (Fanfic)

Summary: Hakuba is murdered after Conan refuses to help him with a case. While the circumstances surrounding his death seem straightforward enough, things become complicated after Conan begins to receive letters from Hakuba 45 days later. Using the clues and journals left for him, Conan must forge unexpected alliances to discover the truth behind their shared ‘Boscombe’ secrets.

This is part 1/5 (probably). Please note that this is not part of Call of the Raven, though of course a lot of my inspiration comes from the writings I’ve done with Clover and my other RP pals. Many thanks to those who’ve helped with this! <3 

Posted to ffnet here. (my first ever posting there gasp!)

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Chapter 1

“So did you get hit in the face or what?”

“I don’t have a lot of time, Edogawa-kun. If you could stop evading my line of questioning, I’ll be able to do what I’ve come to do and be out of your way.”

Conan glanced up at the detective across the coffee table, who sat prim and proper, one leg crossed over the other, hands folded in his lap. The bruising cut across his cheekbone was the only thing that was out of place compared to the mental image that he kept of him, even down to the black briefcase at his feet. Hakuba Saguru was someone that he liked and respected. Despite his distant behavior, he was friendly enough, and a professional in his own right.

But today, he’d come with questions that the pint-sized detective wasn’t interested in answering.

“Hm… no.” The boy offered a shrug with his answer. “Uncle’s not here, so I can’t help you with your case, Hakuba-san. Client confidentiality and all, y’know.”

The blond sighed, lifting a hand to rub the bridge of his nose; a tired, but practiced action that he’d done more than half a dozen times since arriving fifteen minutes earlier. “Yes, I understand all of that. As a consultant, I have my own policies regarding this very thing, however-”

“So you know that I can’t tell you anything. Sorry, but you’re gonna have to find the information out for yourself. Not that that’ll be a problem for you, right? You’re the Sherlock of the new century!” Conan snickered, which only tightened Hakuba’s jaw.

“Speaking as one colleague to another, this is ridiculous. I need your help, Edogawa-kun. I know that you can. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Haaakuba-san, I’m only six years old. You’re my senpai! How’m I supposed to help you?”

“Please… please don’t patronize me,” Hakuba said, shifting then to stand. His hands returned to their folded position, this time behind his back. “You don’t understand.”

“What do you mean?” Conan watched as Hakuba moved toward the window, gaze fixed on the navy suit jacket. It was neatly pressed, just as the rest of his clothing, just as it always was. That was Hakuba’s manner; clean, orderly, pristine. All according to regulation. Good, straight posture, head held high, but not too much. He wasn’t military or royalty, but he was disciplined. Hakuba came from money and private academies. But that didn’t change Conan’s position one bit.

“I know who you are.” The foreign detective sighed again. “I only haven’t been forward out of professional courtesy and respect for you.”

What? He couldn’t mean…

Conan froze, then shook his head, quirking a brow. “Huh?”

Hakuba glanced back over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, then turned back to the streets below. “Are you really going to deny that you are, in fact, Kudou Shinichi?”

Forcing an incredulous smirk, Conan flopped sideways onto the couch. “Aha ha he – what are you talking about? I know we look similar, but where’d you get that idea?”

“Data analysis. It’s really quite simple when you have all of the details, Kudou-san. I’ve been following your case for months. Which you’d know, had you bothered to read the letters that I’d sent.” Hakuba didn’t turn to look at him this time; Conan could only assume that he was observing the people below. His voice held none of that arrogant triumph that it normally did during other deductions. He kept the volume down, tone somber.

He knew about the letters. Fanmail from the other detective, all variations on pleas to work on cases together, despite that they both knew that neither of them enjoyed working with others. But… how much did Hakuba really know? He’d have to be careful, here. Conan wasn’t prepared to let another person into his circle, not yet. There was too much investment that went into it. Too much risk. Every person who learned the truth further diffused the responsibility and made it that much more dangerous for everyone involved. No, he was not willing to let that happen again. Not with Hakuba, who he only barely knew from a handful of other cases. Not when he couldn’t even get along with Hattori for five minutes.

“That’s stupid. Shinichi-niisan and I play soccer all the time. I think I’d know if I were secretly my hero, Hakuba-san. What kind of data would you have, anyway?”

“Again, there’s really not time for this, Kudou-san. If you could please cut the horseshit and give me the information that I need, I’ll be on my way.”

It was a bluff, then. He’d seen Hakuba on the news and in interviews; he loved showing off. He lived for the glamour and thrill of running circles around the lesser, especially when he could get them riled up. Missing an opportunity to impress Conan, his self-appointed kohai and apprentice, according to a magazine article a couple of months ago, though? Never.

“I can’t tell you anything until you prove it, Hakuba-san. And it’d better be quick, ’cause Ran-neechan’s gonna be home soon, and she won’t like that you’re stalking her boooyfriend~!”

Hakuba stiffened, finally turning to face him again, leaning against the glass. His gaze, now icy stone, moved from Conan to the door, then back. “You’d like me to prove it. Irrefutably?”

Conan kicked his feet against the arm of the couch, folding arms behind his head. “Yep.”

Hakuba closed his eyes a moment, took in a deep breath, then forced a small smile. “All right, then. But I’ll need to use your cellphone.”

Really? Conan rolled his eyes as he fished the phone from his pocket and held it up, unable to hold back the smug smirk on his face. “Sure.” It was clean, he knew. All data safely tucked away where no one could find it. At least, not in the few minutes Hakuba had before Ran came home.

“Thank you.”

“Whatcha gonna do with it?”

“I’m about to make a call.”

Conan rolled his eyes. “What’s that gonna do?”

“You’ll see.”

Amused, Conan watched as Hakuba started his pacing again, probably to figure out how to work the thing. A moment later, Hakuba took out his own phone and typed in a speed dial code, then held it up to his ear, looking back at him with a smirk of his own. The expression changed to one of horror, though, right before he began to speak.

“H-hello?!” Hakuba stammered, eyes wide. “Oh, thank god you’ve answered. I need your help.”

Conan sat up. What was this…?

“No, no, I’m fine… but it’s Kudou-san. He’s missing.” Hakuba nodded his head to the voice on the other end of the line, biting his lip. “No, you don’t understand, Hattori-san…”

Conan frowned. Shit.

“Hattori-san!” Hakuba hissed. “I need to know who knows about him.” A pause. “You know, about his little secret? He’s been compromised.” He glanced back to Conan again, giving a thumbs up.

Shit.

“I really don’t know where, but… no. Oh, god, he’s not supposed to know? Mouri-san was just… Oh, no… oh, god no. If that’s true, this building isn’t safe. Could you call him, please? I’ve got to get Megure-keibu on the line immediately.”

Dammit… dammit! Conan bit his lip. He could see what was going to happen already, and it wasn’t going to be good. Not at all.

“Yes, thank you. I’ll let you know if I hear anything at all.” Hakuba hung up, then tucked his own phone back into his pocket, lifting Conan’s phone up to inspect again, smug smirk back on that arrogant face. “How long do you suppose it’ll take?”

Conan thought about fighting it. If he lunged hard enough to the side or back of his legs, he might be able to knock the British bastard down to the floor, long enough to take his phone back. But, doing so would only confirm suspicions. He clenched his fists instead, grinning while he hoped that Hattori would be smart enough to call his other line. “I dunno what you mean, but it’s pretty low to worry Heiji-niisan like that.”

The little red phone vibrated. Hakuba glanced at the caller ID and gasped, turning it to show the Osakan’s photo. He opened the phone and hit the speaker.

“Oi! Kudo?! Are you okay?!”

Conan sighed. “Dammit, Hattori.”

“Where are ya?! Hakuba said ya were in trouble!”

“No… no, Hattori, I’m fine. Hakuba’s just… Can I have my phone back now?”

Hakuba offered it to him, brows lifted high in amusement, which only frustrated Conan more. Damn him… damn him!

“Hakuba’s just… what?”

Conan turned speaker off and adjusted his glasses once the phone was tucked against his ear. “So you just gave my secret away to your arch nemesis.”

“I WHAT?!”

“My apologies, Hattori-san,” Hakuba said, hands slipping into his pockets. “Kudou-san asked me to prove his identity and now I’ve accomplished this with your help. Thank you for your assistance.”

“HAKUBA?!”

Conan held the phone out away from his ear and glared up at him. “YEP. And now I’ve gotta do some damage control so talk to you later, Hattori.”

“I’LL KILL THAT BASTA-”

Click. Conan put the phone away, and folded his arms across his chest. “So.”

“So, if you’ll please tell me about that bank robbery Mouri-san was called in to discuss, I’d greatly appreciate it, Kudou-san.”

“Don’t call me that. Not here. Are you stupid?”

Hakuba frowned, taking a seat on the opposite couch once more. “Pardon. Edogawa-kun, if you could relay any information you have regarding the criminals…”

“No.”

“What? But I’ve just proven that…”

“So what?”

“Isn’t that the deal we established?”

“No. I don’t make negotiations with that kind of information, Hakuba.”

“Edogawa-kun, I don’t think you understand how important this is. I have reason to believe that those criminals have been involved in other robberies of this very same kind…”

“Yeah, bank robbers will do that. That’s kind of their thing.”

“It’s not just that. This is part of something else. Something larger. From what I’ve been able to learn thus far, if my theories are correct, this so-called small-time robbery was actually the targeted work of an organized syndicate. I think they’re after something specific.”

Conan returned to his seat, careful to keep his expression deadpan as he listened to Hakuba go on and on. He was absolutely correct, of course, but there was no way that he was going to let him get involved with them. Especially now that he knew the truth about Conan. He shrugged. “The reports say otherwise. The guys weren’t connected to any of the other burglaries. None have a history with each other, just a rap sheet for other stuff. Arson, auto theft, shoplifting… Just regular crooks.”

“You can’t really believe that. Surely, you’ve seen the pattern. The types of banks that are being hit, the kind of clientele that they service. It’s all related. It’s connected.”

“No… pretty sure that you just sound crazy.”

Hakuba gaped. “You… you must be joking. You, of all people, would know.”

“Yeah. I know. I thought that at first, too, but I’ve been over the same information a hundred times, and it’s just coincidence. They’re not related, Hakuba. You’re just wasting your time.”

He stared, brows furrowed, mouth still open in disbelief. “I know what I’ve found in the evidence, Edogawa-kun. It’s Baskerville all over again.”

Conan got up, took his glasses off, and cleaned them with the tails of his shirt. “Oi… You really want to get into Holmes with me, Hakuba?”

“It’s better than your passive aggressive comments and blatant lies.”

“’…When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,’ Hakuba. I’ve already eliminated that possibility, so what does that tell you?”

Hakuba went back to rubbing the bridge of his nose. “That this is either a Boscombe secret or you really just don’t care for me.”

Conan tilted his head, humming as he put his glasses back on. “Yeah, that’s probably true. Hattori was right about you. You really are kind of obnoxious.”

There was a pause, then, as Hakuba regarded the boy in silence. Gone was the attitude, replaced with another icy stare. “Be that as it may, I need to see the case file, Edogawa-kun. Please.”

“No.”

Hakuba closed his eyes and withdrew the silver watch from his pocket. He flipped it open, glanced down, then snapped it closed before standing up. “Very well. I shall return tomorrow with a warrant.”

“Oi, you’re gonna pull rank, then? I thought you were better than that, Hakuba.”

He shook his head as he walked to the door, hands slipping back into his pockets. “I’ll be going through the proper channels, as always. I’m not a poor sport like some of our colleagues and associates, Edogawa-kun.”

“Yeah… good luck with that.”

Hakuba opened the door and stepped out onto the landing, looking back only to nod his head. “Cheers,” he said, voice humorless, and left.

Conan waited until the door clicked closed before turning back to the briefcase that had been left behind. The question was if Hakuba were really that upset with his sarcastic remarks or if he’d meant to leave it behind. Regardless, there was definitely going to be something worth reading in there. He tested the latches and found the lock along the side. Four number dials. It wouldn’t take him long to crack; while Hakuba was intelligent, he was predictable. All of that procedure and protocol. But it’d have to wait until everyone else went to bed.

Fortunately, the briefcase wasn’t all that heavy. Conan fit it neatly between the filing cabinet and the wall and set up camp back on the couch to wait for the Mouris to come home.

It was just past two am when Conan returned to the office. He switched on the desk lamp and retrieved the briefcase. Heiji had expected his call.

“Yeah, we really need to work on that…”

“I’m sorry, Kudo! That damn halfer had me worried.”

“Yeah, I know.” Conan sighed, spinning the dials. “Let’s see here…”

“What’re ya doin?”

“Hakuba left his briefcase here. I’m breaking into it.” Conan paused to let Heiji laugh before he continued. “Four numbers. It can’t be that hard.”

“Try 1234.”

“Just did, wasn’t it. So I guess the half-brit half-wit has that going for him, at least.”

“Half-brit half-wit?” Hattori cackled again.

“Yeah. But that was really dumb, though, letting him manipulate you like that.”

“Ya coulda’ said somethin’ if ya were standin’ right there ya know.”

Conan tilted his head at that. “Yeah… but I wanted to see what you would do, I guess.” He spun the dials again. “Hm, I wonder if…”

“What’re ya tryin’ this time?”

“Just a sec.” Conan blinked as the latch flipped open. “Huh. Go figure. That was it.”

“What was?”

“4869.” He lifted the lid, peering inside. No surprises, just papers. Good. Laying the lid against the desk, Conan began his investigation of the briefcase’s contents.

“An’ it was right? Where the hell didja get that?”

“It’s pretty simple, really. Hakuba’s a big Sherlock Holmes nut. 4869. Shi-hachi-roku-kyu. Shi-ha-ro-ku. Sherlock.” Conan sighed, feeling odd contentment at that. Clever. Maybe they had more in common than he thought. He’d need to change the password to his cellphone before they saw each other again.

“Hah! Who’d be stupid enough ta set that as their combination? That’s real obvious.”

“…Eh, yeah. Totally.” Grateful that Heiji couldn’t see his embarrassment, Conan pulled out a manila folder and pawed through. Case files, neatly organized with copies of reports, legal documents, and pages of hand-written notes. A small pencil case with highlighters, pens, and a mechanical drafting pencil kept them in place, nestled against the side. Rubber bands kept each folder closed. “Geez this guy is organized.”

“So what’s in it?”

“Bunch of homework, it looks like. Stuff for court and cases. The recent bank robberies, too.” He pulled the next folder out and slipped the rubber band off, setting it aside. “That’s what he was over here for today, by the way. Asking for Occhan’s files on it.”

“Didja give it to him?”

“Pft, no. Are you kidding? It’s bad enough that he knows who I am. I really don’t think he should be messing around with those crows, too.” Conan flipped through the pages of notes and stifled a yawn. “He sure has a lot of info, though…”

“Anythin’ useful?”

“Probably not. I mean, there are some police reports here that I haven’t seen, but we can get those any time. Megure-keibu’s been anxious for our help lately.” He turned another page, then paused. “Hey, there’s an envelope here.”

“Yeah?”

Conan picked it up and held it up to the light. “Addressed to Hakuba.” It had already been opened, so he slipped the letter out and flattened it over the folder. “Huh.”

“What?”

“It’s written completely in kanji. No kana anywhere. It looks like a ransom note, each character pieced together from…” The boy frowned, reflexively pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, leaning in for a closer look. “Shit.”

“Kudou?”

“This isn’t a ransom note; it’s a death threat.”

“Against Hakuba?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of disjointed; looks like they went out of their way to make it confusing, but this is definitely a…” He scanned the page again, taking note of the small notes written in the margins. “Oi, Hattori. Do you still have Hakuba’s number in your cell?”

“Yeah…”

“Call him. I’m going to get Megure-keibu on the line.”

“What? Why?”

“I think they’re going to try to kill him tonight… and I don’t think that Hakuba knows.”

by

Night Staff (Fanfic / Scene from CotR)

I’ve been compiling more of Call of the Raven, aka Epic Conan Fanfic that kaitomagic and I have been working on for the past… geez, 3 years now? And came across this fun scene with Kaito and Sonoko. Clover said it was okay to post, so here it is, raw and unedited and without much context!

Just know that Kaito is disguised as Shinichi and is trying to leave the hospital after visiting Ran, Heiji, and Hakuba for reasons. Detective Serial Killer reasons. Aaand… Sonoko has decided that it’s time she has a little talk with Shinichi.

Kaito is written by Clover (kaitomagic) and Sonoko by me! Leave happy comments so we’ll post more! :3 

Night Staff (from Volume 4 of Call of the Raven)

…

From Kaito’s perspective standing outside, the hallway was much too long for the thief’s taste. He stared down it for a while from the opposite side of the door to Hakuba’s temporary room like a particularly hydrophobic cat might a river just after a rainstorm.

Asking for painkillers would be too much of a hassle, now… he’d need papers and doctor’s recommends and possibly another checkup… none of which he could currently afford to be delayed by. A wheel chair just seemed excessive and out of the question, even if he could have found access to one… it’d draw too much attention. Plus he’d feel like a wimp. He could still walk on his leg, after all… it just wasn’t the nicest sounding idea.

After several minutes of skilled, pokerfaced traipsing, he reached the elevator and stepped inside. The exit was just a few floors down and then with any luck it’d be smooth, uninterrupted sailing until he reached home.

Alas, poor impostor, for fate had chosen another card. While the elevator was empty and no other lights flashed on the panel, signalling a clear and easy escape, the sound of clicking heels came in a flurry from the outside. Sonoko hadn’t been far away, and had just managed to catch a passing glance at Kaito before he ducked into the elevator. So she ran.

There were few things that could get the teenager to run in heels – sales and escaping from criminals being a couple of the rare exceptions – but this… this injustice… was at the top of her list. And even though the elevator doors had begun to close before she was within seeing distance, the fury that boiled up inside of her drove her in unnatural speed.

“KUUUUUUUUDO-KUUUUUN!”

Her battle cry, filled with righteous anger, rang through as she came to a skidding halt, thrusting her purse forward to catch the doors at the last moment. Then her arm, sideways, as she forced her way in, brows furrowed, breathless and panting.

“You are NOT getting away THIS time, you bastard!”

The sound of the banshee’s screeching had the hair on the back of Kaito’s neck standing on end and sent his finger to work frantically and repeatedly pushing the ‘close doors’ buttons on the elevator control pad, eyes wide, nerves on edge and adrenaline pumping.

Who knew one angry woman could startle him so badly?

She was coming through the doors.

He backed up a bit, watching her with an expression one might place with a party who had just been accused of something for which they were very guilty– but little known to Ms.Suzuki, the expression was for an entirely different reason than what she might have suspected.

“Sonoko, I…” He started, taking another step back.

So much for a quiet getaway.

The doors closed behind Sonoko as she stood, hands curled into fists, catching her breath with heavy panting through clenched teeth. Still, despite the rage and her harried approach, she was every bit as beautiful and put together as she always was. The young woman, having composed herself somewhat, wasted no further time in closing the distance between them, heels clicking as she stalked forward. This was no time to care about personal bubbles. Sonoko Suzuki had wrongs to be righted!

“Kudo-kun,” she began, voice tense with anger. “Where in the HELL do you think you’re going? Ran-chan is in a hospital bed not thirty feet from here and you’re LEAVING? She just woke up! She talked to me! And she NEEDS you and you’re LEAVING? Eri-san said that you had to go, but that was HOURS ago and yet you’re still here? Just /now/ leaving? And SUPPOSEDLY coming back?! Well I’ve heard THAT one before, and you ought to know that I see RIGHT THROUGH your lies. Why the hell do you think it’s okay for you to just come and go as you please?! She was STABBED! Why do you have to be such a cold-hearted bastard?!”

Oh hell.

He knew he shouldn’t have allowed himself to stay around for this long. He had to hand it to Sonoko though- she had a way of making a guy feel like the lowest scum of the earth even when he really wasn’t guilty of specific stated accusations. If he really were Shinichi… well… he didn’t know what he’d do. Probably feel awful.

If it were possible to do so without trying to get past Sonoko or opening the roof of a moving elevator, the disguised thief would have fled… but he had already retreated as far back as was otherwise possible within the confines of the small moving room. He could feel a section of the metal bar circumferencing the mirrored walls pressing against his back.

“I… was…”

He hadn’t prepared himself for this.

“You. Were. What?” Sonoko asked, punctuating each word with an incredulous and accusatory force. She took another step closer, eyes narrowing to thin slits, a look of disgust crossing her features. “Leaving her, right? Save the girl, but leave her before she has a chance to talk to you. Just gotta do the bare minimum to keep her at bay, right? Stringing her along by the thinnest thread you can manage. Never stopping to wonder if she worries about you, if she struggles for you. You haven’t seen the way she cries sometimes, when she doesn’t think anyone is looking. All while she puts on a good face and makes excuse after excuse for you, all while you won’t even SEE HER. Won’t even let her know how YOU feel. Because you’ve got no skin in the game, right? She’s put it all on the line for you, so why should you?”

The teenage girl laughed, rolling her eyes as she put her hands on her hips. “Well, Kudo-san, I’ve had enough. Now that I’ve got you cornered, I’m not letting you go. You’re going to come right back with me to her room to wait for her, and then you two can have a niiiice looong chat. And if you DARE think that you’re going to escape, then I’ll tear you apart.”

She tossed her head, shaking out her hair as she suddenly gave a wicked grin. “Understood?”

Oh, it was understood… just not agreed upon. Shinichi was already with Ran and Kaito was not going back to that room.

He supposed he couldn’t just kiss her for the surprise factor and vanish though, either… as Shinichi, the thief was certain that it would incriminate far more than it would help. He might even get attacked, judging by Sonoko’s demeanor and steadily growing levels of feminine intimidation.

What would the real thing say in this situation? More lies and avoidance? Kaito sort of felt bad for him… after all… what other choice did he have?

As for Kaito, he decided on truth.

…with a twist.

“No skin? How many times do you think I’ve risked my life for her? I could have easily died myself getting her out of there, and even knowing that I would do it again for however many times it takes. Don’t tell me I’m not risking anything, because you have no idea what it was like in there. What it has been like with this case I’m on. There are reasons for what I do. I’m not completely heartless.”

He stood up to her, voice calm and logical but with convincing tiredness and concern in his eyes- before he sighed, seeming to tether himself a bit.

“…I took a nap, Sonoko. I’ve been awake since she vanished, looking for her. I’m exhausted. And I really don’t want to put her through this right now.”

Reel her in, then deliver the sympathy card.

…And hope it works

Sonoko watched the detective with a stern gaze, letting him talk. Her expression stayed the same, though the heat left slowly as ‘Shinichi’ went on. Whether or not Kudo’s excuses were valid, she had to give him credit for standing up to her. He addressed her concerns, met her eye to eye, and didn’t back down. In the end, she relaxed her position, one hand still on her hip while the other went for her purse, and she smiled.

“Kudo-kun.” She laughed and shook her head, dismissively. But by the softening of her expression, it seemed that the male teenager was out of the danger zone. “Fine. A nap is good. You do look tired. And your suit’s wrinkled. And you could probably use a shower.”

She missed seeing him like this. Although he’d always been Ran’s friend, she’d cared about him, too. Even when he was moody and uncooperative and unwilling to even do the slightest bit of nonsense in the name of fun. She continued her thoughts out loud. “Here you are, acting so adult and responsible. Like you’re some great detective. It’s not fair that you’ve grown up so fast, leaving us behind. And…. Ran-chan really does miss you. I think she spends more time looking at your empty desk than she does paying attention in class.”

Behind her, the elevator doors chimed and opened. Sonoko swung a fist at the panel without looking, closing the doors again. Apparently, she wasn’t finished.

“When are you coming back?”

More personal stuff. Meant for Shinichi, not him. He hadn’t intended on intruding this much.

“I’m not sure yet… to be honest, things are really tricky and I don’t see it letting up very soon.” He took a light breath, rubbing a temple. He was, quite truthfully, relieved to have her mostly off his back now- but he still had to keep up the act until he could get out of there. On to more sentiments.

“Believe me, I miss her, too. Is she… doing okay, other than worrying about me?”

He really was concerned… but his emotional sanity was stretched a little thin and it was affecting his creativity. He didn’t know the girl nearly as well as Shinichi did, so he had to balance showing concern while avoiding more specific questions or statements. Holes in knowledge could blow his cover.

Sonoko tilted her head, regarding the other teenager with an amused grin. “You’ve really got it bad for her, don’t you?” she asked, then shook her head as she thought better of it. “Never mind; save that for her. She… She’s doing all right, though she does worry constantly. And she never knows just where she stands with you. I don’t think I would have had the patience to wait for you this long.”

She sighed and her expression further softened, a look of fond concern gracing her features. “She loves you. She can’t say it out loud, but I know she does. And all while I was visiting her, just now, she had that sort of far-off look in her eyes that she gets when she’s thinking about you.”  She lifted her head to look ‘Shinichi’ in the eyes, then shrugged, stepping passively out of the way of the elevator doors, as if granting him permission to leave.

“Thank you for saving her, Kudo-kun… I was so… so scared…” Sonoko brought up a hand to wipe emerging tears from her eyes, smile quivering with the emotion that overwhelmed her. “I thought I’d never see her again… and then with her surgery complication… Ohmygod. I… I… thank…” She had to stop to try to calm herself, running both hands over her eyes, blushing in embarrassment. “Th-thank you.”

It was quite a different – but still dramatic – display from earlier.

Kaito hesitated. What would Shinichi do?

Down day, pretty girl crying in front of him…

Whatever it was in Kaito that had a will to resist certain things wasn’t strong enough to help him with this right now.

He took a step forward, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Aww, come on Sonoko… she’ll be all right now…”

What else should he do? Nothing else he could fathom seemed appropriate. It was best to… comfort a little, then leave when possible. Sigh. How many more complications were going to conspire to keep him here? His emotions were drained. He needed more rest.

Sonoko sniffed, lowering her hands to look up at ‘Shinichi,’ blinking her eyes in surprise at the gesture. She swallowed against the sob that rose in her throat, and drew her fingers under each eye to wipe away the tears. “You’d better be right, Kudo-kun,” she said, voice choked with emotion. “She’s my best friend, too, you know. And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.”

The female teenager wiped her eyes frantically again, smearing makeup on her cheeks, which she then wiped away. She had become quite talented at doing damage control without a compact mirror. But that didn’t stop the tears from falling, stronger and faster.

“She’d better be okay…”

Damn. Why did she have to go and do that? He couldn’t help it.

Okay, well, maybe he could have if he had tried harder, but Sonoko really was a pretty girl and he didn’t like seeing anyone cry.

Especially not pretty girls.

He hugged her. Loose, but close… in an attempt at supposedly innocent comfort.

“She will. Ran’s strong… she’ll pull through, no doubt.”

Sonoko leaned against the detective’s chest, burying her face there, eyes closed. It did help. He was warm, strong, and smelled nice. He felt comforting. And Sonoko liked it.

Which is what gave her pause.

She blinked. Then lifted her head to look up at the young man who held her. She blinked again, eyes going wide.

“You’re not… Shinichi…” Sonoko’s words came out quiet, confused, startled. Then she furrowed her brows and stepped back, pushing against Kaito’s chest with her palms. “YOU ARE NOT SHINICHI.”

Although there was an increase in volume, Sonoko had managed to not raise her voice enough to attract the attention of others- yet. But that may have been because she was readying her purse for the attack. “Just WHO ARE YOU, imposter?! Answer me now or I’ll show you just what these high heels can do!”

Oh shit.

Think fast, Kaito…

“S-Sonoko, what?” The disguised teen faltered and backed up a step, adrenaline kicking in again from the woman’s sheer ability to intimidate. “Of course I’m Shinichi! Who else would I be? Hey, keep it down.. don’t…”

Sh… shhhhs–sh!!

If he was caught here, he’d likely be brought in for questioning and- Kaito panicked. He did the irrational thing and reverted to the KID method, using one of his underhanded tactics he usually saved for similar hopelessly cornered occasions, moving his arms around the girl and pressing his lips to hers, firm and passionate- but not overpowering. He wanted to throw her off guard, not scare her to death.

He didn’t even know how he was supposed to actually escape after that… and in the back of his mind, the more sensible part of Kaito Kuroba realized that this move very well could have just sealed his doom at the mercy of Sonoko Suzuki.

If the panic and the frantic hushing hadn’t confirmed her suspicions, the kiss certainly did. Sonoko blinked, mouth covered, and stared up at the young man’s face, into his eyes, flicker of understanding crossing her expression. It all made sense. Well, not all of it, certainly not that. But larger pieces. The girl, startled, put the puzzle pieces together while her tense muscles relaxed and the purse fell from her hand to the floor, scattering the contents on the elevator floor.

She’d heard about him impersonating Shinichi before. That was why he was so confident. Why he had held her. And why he was then kissing her, warm and wonderful, hot enough to bring a rosy blush to her cheeks. This was none other than Kaitou KID, the illustrious thief who expertly stole every priceless gem and woman’s heart that he desired. She hadn’t believed Ran when she’d told her about this little aspect of Kaitou’s career before, the part of playing the Detective, but it made so much sense. What more perfect disguise could there be?

Besides that, their faces were so similar. Their build, too, with slight differences. But his eyes… His eyes were different than that cold, foolish Kudo-kun’s. Kaitou’s had that hint of violet. That sweet, daring quality that separated them. A man of mystery. Refined dignity. Nothing at all like coarse and boring bookworm Shinichi.

No, certainly nothing like Shinichi. Not with this kiss.

But did that mean that Kaitou was after Ran again? But, no, Kaitou was leaving. So why…?

Did it matter? She swooned.

Finally, Sonoko pushed back from Kaitou, demure and coy, breathless. “Kaitou… Kid-sama,” she whispered, then looked at his eyes again. “Why… are you pretending to be…?”

The teen stayed on alert, preparing for action in the event that she pulled mace on his face or something similarly unpleasant. That hadn’t gone how he had planned.

Mostly because he knew he couldn’t limp fast enough to escape her and any potentially riled hospital security right now so the second half of that ‘kissing tag’ shenanigan he had just pulled couldn’t even be completed. Yeah. Kissing her had not been a well thought out move.

But he was in it, now… and worse, she had guessed who he really was. Only more damage than good could be done by trying to shrug it off now. …Why was that happening so much recently?

He must be slipping. And that… wasn’t good.

“It’s a long story,” He began, voice near a whisper- trying to buy himself a few seconds while he decided how much he could get away with not telling her. His voice evened out to the more smooth tones of the Phantom Thief with his next words as he watched her eyes hesitantly. “One that I’m afraid I’m not entirely at liberty to tell, Miss Suzuki. But I can say that I mean you no harm as well as apologize for my forwardness just now. I would rather not draw too much attention.”

The young lady stayed quiet and still, eyes locked on Kaitou’s as she worked on figuring him out. And enjoyed lingering in his arms. Makoto- he would forgive her for this, she was certain. If she ever breathed word of it, that is. It would be difficult to explain. Besides, she thought, the heat in her cheeks making her want to return that kiss, what was it that I heard? That ‘a secret makes a woman woman’? Miss Jodie said it once, she thought…

Sonoko found herself nodding to his smooth tones and attention. It was difficult to resist agreeing with anything and everything that he had to say.

But then… then, wait. She had to be strong for Ran. To not give in.

She set her jaw and looked up at Kaitou, suspicious and vigilant. He wasn’t just going to waltz out of this one, even if he was holding her like a dance partner!

“In any other circumstance,” Sonoko began, voice calm and quiet, barely above the intimate whisper they’d attained. “I would let you go without question, KID-sama… but for Ran-chan, I must insist… why are you pretending? Where’s Kudo-kun? Why isn’t he here… with Ran?”

Her eyes sparkled with fresh tears- though whether they were sincere or part of an act was anyone’s guess.

The thief studied Sonoko’s face, eyes searching, hesitancy clear in his momentary silence. He didn’t want to blow Shinichi’s cover… even if he was a jerk. But she needed to stop prying.

“…He’s in a bad situation. He’s gotten himself tied up in a complicated case and he’s playing against dangerous opposition- people who wouldn’t leave him alone even if he tried to back out now. He knows too much. He’s staying low for her safety. And, for yours, I recommend not looking any further into this. And that’s not a threat from me. Despite being on the other end of the law, I would not associate with who he’s going against.”

He kept the bold heiress in his arms, but loosened his grip to give her space so she could pull away more easily if she chose to. The close contact seemed to be having a positive effect on him not getting attacked and he wanted to maintain that mentality.

“He has been here, just not openly. Watching her, making sure she’s safe. He hasn’t abandoned her… he just can’t let her know that yet. As for me…” He began, smiling a small amount, though his eyes were still serious- smooth tones still constant and steady. “I’m a thief, not a killer- and to me, allowing someone to die when I could have prevented it may as well be the same as if I had pulled the trigger myself. I saw an opportunity to prevent death and I took it. No one should know this, though, just as he normally refrains from appearing in news coverage these days. Can I trust you to keep it between us, Miss Suzuki?”

Close by? Not showing himself? Sonoko tilted her head, her own eyes searching for meaning in Kaitou’s face. Though she didn’t pull away, she resisted the urge to touch her lips to his again. This was difficult. Far more than it should have been. But she stayed strong. Kaitou KID alone with her in an elevator. KID, who had just kissed her with more passion than she’d ever felt before. KID, who looked and sounded almost identical to Shinichi Kudo.

Furtively, she glanced up at the corners of the elevator cabin. Could there be cameras?

“Perhaps,” she said softly. “In return for a favor.”

It seemed that she had decided to trust KID-sama for the time being. Using one of her hands to push back some of his hair, relishing in its smooth texture, she leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

“…I want a moonlit kiss from you, Kid-sama… at your next heist.”

A kiss?

That would be easy enough. Enjoyable, even, judging by how this one went. Not that he’d like to make a habit out of this, particularly, but one or two would certainly hurt less than whatever she had been searching her purse for moments ago.

He smirked a little, though his expression was still soft.

“I believe that I can work that in. Deal.”

…After he worked in a couple days of vegging on the couch and tolerating school to recover from this whole complicated ordeal.

“Perfect.” Sonoko looked pleased with this arrangement. She doubted that Makoto could fault her for it, not with how she’d been so up front about everything. Right? No one had to know about any of this. She was a talented actress in her own right, despite what others thought of her. The others would never know what transpired here. There were hundreds of cover stories she could use. And with her knack of overreacting, it would ring true and authentic, just as with any performance.

She waited in Kaitou’s arms just a moment longer, studying his eyes while her lips slowly curved into a smirk.

And then… “Ehh?” She made a sound of surprise and pushed away from Kaitou, blushing and indignant. “Kudo-kun! How dare you be so forward.” Sonoko glanced down at the ground as her foot made contact with the spilled contents of her purse. “You insensitive jerk! Pick those up right now!” She pointed at the lipstick, wallet, keys, and other objects underfoot.

The fury in her expression was inconsistent with the mirth in her eyes. Or maybe it was perfectly in sync… perhaps she loved to play wicked.

He blinked. Eh? Oh.

“Baaaro, how am I being forward? I just asked how Ran was doing. And I’m not your butler. You dropped it, you pick it up.”

He had his voice back into Shinichi’s tones in a flash as well as that indignant, dry look. The type of long-suffering expression one might develop when they were almost constantly surrounded by nagging beings of lesser intelligence. He thought that was a pretty accurate portrayal of the detective… he had certainly treated him similarly.

…Okay. So maybe he was feeling a bit hurt and bitter and that was factoring itself into how long he had been acting like the other teen without a real break- but he was fairly certain that the performance outside would fool anyone who had dealt with Kudo Shinichi in the past.

He forced himself to give her a subtle wink; no use being completely jerk-faced when she already knew what he really was anyway. Besides… how many guys got to flirt this shamelessly with the classy Suzuki Sonoko with zero fear of rejection?

Sonoko responded in kind with a wink of her own, then glared, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “What, you expect ME to pick them up?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest in a huff. “I’m in a skirt! A SHORT skirt. What are you, a pervert?!” The look of anger turned to fury as she stepped back, slamming her fist on the door open button of the elevator panel. “Get OUT!”  She yelled, thrusting a finger toward the opening door.

“Baka Shinichi! I’m not bowing to you, so just leave!”

At last. An escape path. The amount of relief that flooded him at the thought of actually making it out of there seemed unfathomable… but he knew that with this delay, he may still have to dodge the press. Maybe if he re-fixed his hair to not look so much like either of theirs…

For now, he acted nonchalant, eying the girl dryly with a rather pungent ‘as-if’ showing with the quirk in his brow. “Fine, fine. But you’re the one who stopped me when I was already trying to leave, you know.” The faux detective stated dully, looking mildly irritated as he stepped out of the elevator and onto the first floor.

It seemed as though this might leave off on a rather sour note, no matter how fake… but then he added something as the doors closed, entire expression flickering as he sent her a coy smirk.

“Forgive the question, miss Suzuki, but why wear a short skirt if you’re not inviting people to look?”

If he had timed it right, he’d be in the clear milliseconds after he observed the look on her face.

Sonoko only had time to blink, eyes wide, color flushing her face before the elevator doors closed again. It was only moments after she was left alone that Sonoko was able to recover from the jaw-dropped moment, taking a few seconds to calm down before she knelt to clean up the belongings in her purse, very conscious of the fact that her skirt was, in fact, a brazen invitation.

Thank goodness she was now alone.

…But did that mean that Kaitou KID had looked?

The teenager all but swooned again as she stood up after, adjusting her skirt and top, touching her cheek where the blush burned. He’d kissed her. And would do so again – at the next heist. That would certainly fill her nights with wonderful dreams for the next few weeks. But… something wasn’t right. There were still questions to be answered, even though Sonoko felt that she could push them from her mind in favor of excitement.

Where was Kudo-kun, really?

by

Muse (Fanfic)

This is another little side-story for the Epic Conan Fanfic (aka The Call of the Raven, written by Cloverkite and myself). As mentioned before, Kaito and Hakuba’s relationship isn’t the primary focus of the fic, so there are lots of little things like this that we’ve written that are just floating around. This one is one I wrote tonight for Clover (kaitomagic) as a sort of break, which I think was needed for all of us, muns and muses alike. It’s short, it’s sweet, and not the usual style for my DCMK stuff… but hopefully you’ll enjoy the fluff, anyway.

Muse

The days before Pandora were some of the best in my life. Best in our lives.

True, he was gone on the weekends more often than not. He had a lot of things to work out with Kudou-san, and that was understandable. I wasn’t about to get in their way, though I missed him a great deal of the time. But, that said, I was very busy myself. The renewed confidence that I felt in myself really made a difference in the way that I conducted business. With how I treated others, and how others treated me. My agent was floored. I had more interviews booked, and as I did them, I became more comfortable with slipping into my role in Japan. Things were not easy, but I worked hard.

We both did. And with every success, we celebrated each other. Every failing, we comforted, and celebrated anyway.

I had a lover. A boyfriend. Someone that I could depend on to be there. Someone I didn’t have to worry about. He was dedicated. I was dedicated. No questions. Not that I didn’t have my doubts from time to time… depression like the one I had wasn’t something that could just be whisked away in the heat of passion. Momentarily, perhaps, but it was deeply rooted. But he never gave up on me.

Days went by. We kept it a secret. Notes exchanged, significant glances. Brief, innocent touches in the hallway. We worked together as partners on projects when Aoko-chan (who, bless her heart, supported us every step of the way) would allow it. He acknowledged my presence. He knew me… better than anyone’s ever known me, and he loved me for it. I’ve never felt that before in my life.

It was difficult to rein in the affection. I felt so overwhelmed, at times, with just how much I felt for him… but our secret was important. Our secret kept us alive. Not only to keep enemies away, not just to keep society at bay, but because it added just a little bit of extra spark.  A little bit of intrigue that… was, honestly, just… fun.

There were times when we couldn’t wait until after school to sneak to one of our houses and tear off each other’s clothes. Everything was so new, so vibrant, it was never-ending discovery after amazing discovery and expression of… of all of the things that mattered in life. No; we didn’t make love in the broom closet at school. That would have been unsanitary. But we certainly shared heated kisses. We touched and fondled and explored and towed the line of what we could get away with. I know I got to class after lunch, sometimes, with hair more tousled than Kaito’s. The others wrote it off as my working too hard… but Aoko-chan knew better. Koizumi-san knew better. Hell, if anyone had bothered to pay attention to the red in my cheeks it would have been so obvious but everyone was so used to my being flustered that it didn’t matter!

And getting away with it was so… so fun. So thrilling.

I’d always loved heist movies. I’d always been so interested in the lives and workings of thieves and criminals, the chases, the teasing, the… well. It’s true what they say about the fox. They’re always on the run until they know when they’ve got the advantage. Once they learn your weakness, it’s all over. It’s just fun and games to them. Kaito had me wrapped around his little finger. Still does, in fact. I couldn’t be happier. Though now it’s more of a comfortable routine for us. Not that we don’t have our moments of spontaneity- we certainly do. How could we not, with Kaito being one half of the whole? But those days… young, foolish, reckless…

I’d never been like that before. It was a turning point in my life. I believe that was when the healing really began. And he… he gave that to me. Despite everything, he was willing to give me a chance. Was eager to love me, to take me on as part of his life in an official capacity. He wanted me. All of me. My past, my present, my future.

He’s made my life worth living. He is my reason. My passion. My inspiration.

Kuroba Kaito is, quite honestly, my muse.

And I love him for it.

 

by

Cigarettes (Fanfic)

I found this tonight while looking for something else for Epic Conan Fanfic aka The Call of the Raven (which Clover and I have begun working on again). Since the story primarily focuses on the relationship between Shinichi and Kaito, Kaito/Hakuba is relegated to sub plot status and we don’t get to do a ton with it, even though it’s been plotted and there are extensive notes etc. etc. etc…  we talk about ‘Hakaito’ a lot, actually, but yeah…  this means we write short stories (like Snow) instead. And then they sit there collecting dust – except when I find them and post them. Like now.

This one is… a bit far off, but before Snow. Hakuba and Kaito have been together for a while, and Hakuba’s supposed to leave Japan for university soon. Because of the distance, Hakuba’s having concerns… which results in a lot of anxiety… which means he wants to turn to one of his staple vices – smoking. Unfortunately, Kaito finds out and confronts him about it, asks him to quit, and Hakuba… does not react well. After a brief argument, he takes the cigarettes from his suit jacket and tears them apart, screaming that, fine, he’ll give them up. They make up and things are fine… … … maybe. 

 

Cigarettes

As Hakuba held his sleeping lover, he couldn’t prevent his thoughts from roving over their earlier argument. He’d gotten so upset… almost angry, over what? A pack of cigarettes? He dipped his fingers deeper into the sea of wild, fluffy hair that made Kaito’s mane, stroking it softly, gently massaging his scalp. It wasn’t like him to get so agitated over anything, much less something as material and juvenile. What was his problem? 

A mild heat rose in the detective’s cheeks as he mulled over what had been said, how he’d acted. He’d broken down and cried. Why were they so important to him? Was it the addiction?  Hakuba wished that he knew. Even then, safe and warm in his home, nestled in his bed with the one person he believed he could trust more than anyone or anything, he longed for the comfort that just having a pack around meant. 

Perhaps it would be best to let it go, Hakuba thought to himself. Getting so worked up over anything, much less a dirty habit like smoking, would do him no good. It was a distraction from his work and from survival. A crutch. And if Kaito had noticed, as careful as he’d been, then… others might have, too. And he couldn’t have that. Though, Kaito-kun was unusually perceptive. Perhaps no one else had…

Hakuba sighed. It was a soft, resigned sound, designed to sound more like breathing and less like defeat, out of fear and consideration that he might wake Kaito with his ridiculous existential quandary. Even if no one else knew, which Hattori-san and Kudo-san now certainly did (colleagues that he respected and had never wanted to have known, what had gone through his mind? Why had he offered Kudo-san a cigarette? He should have known that there were circumstances… It had been autonomous…), the fact that Kaito had noticed bothered him.

Had noticed and found it… a turn off, in his words. 

Not enough to keep him from coming around, but… Hakuba looked down at the sleeping figure in his arms, concerned. What if his appeal left? Even if he stopped smoking now, would that be enough? He knew he drank too much, too. And spent far too much time ruminating over the past. And, although he’d been faithful to him since their last heated discussion on the topic, Hakuba couldn’t seem to stop himself from looking for potential partners. He did it without realizing it, and always stopped himself when he noticed what he was doing. But it was ingrained in him like noticing the clues and specifics of a case; only with physical attractiveness, names, family importance, financial status, position in society… instead of just dates and times.

It made him sick. Kaito-kun deserved far better than that. And asking him to give up the cigarettes – no, not even to do that, he only let him know how he felt about it – was out of concern for his health. Possibly his reputation, as well. What would he do if his father found out about the cigarettes? About the fact that he’d started smoking when he was thirteen? Fourteen? And that Baaya had been responsible? He could see the disappointed look on his face without even stretching his imagination. It would hurt him. And having that separation between himself and his father… driving that wedge between them even further… would… 

Hakuba froze where he sat, stiffened for a moment while he remembered how to breathe. It was painful to think about that. Too painful. Oh, if only he had a cigarette, it’d-

No. 

He steeled himself, setting his jaw firmly. No, he did not need a drug to cope. He could go without. The problems that he had, the anxieties that he suffered with mere thoughts were the result… or at least complicated by his turning to unhealthy means of distraction instead of dealing with the problem head on. He hadn’t talked to his father about what he’d been through, and that had been a sticking point. The vast canyon between their understanding was because Hakuba didn’t trust him enough to talk to him, and his father knew this. 

Why didn’t he trust his father? What had he ever done to make Hakuba think that he couldn’t go to him?

Even at that moment, Hakuba didn’t know. He couldn’t tell his mother, either, despite… despite the fact that she already knew. He hadn’t told her, but she had known all along. She let him be, which he preferred, but even that made things uneasy. Why… Why couldn’t he talk to his parents?

Why had he let them argue over him? Over his depression and silence and the mysterious bruises? He was the reason that they were split up, living completely separate lives in completely different countries. Were they happy that way? Hakuba raised a hand to run through his own hair, fingers coming to rest on the bridge of his nose between his closed eyes, pinching to circumvent some of the building pressure in his head.

Life had been much simpler before Kuroba Kaito. His secret had been safe, and all he’d had to do was get through the day without any major confrontations and he’d be okay. School, study sessions, cases, laboratory database updates, then reading at home. Simple. Easy. A night cap of a little red wine and he’d settle into his bed and, for the most part, spend a dreamless night and start again. Five months in Japan, five months in the United Kingdom, ending with two glorious months in France. He just had to get through it and….

No. He was staying in Japan. For Kaito. It would be a long stretch, and he’d spend the time normally spent in Paris with his mother, instead, but that would be all right. He would graduate soon and start university in England, and settle into a more consistent life. It would be fine. Wouldn’t it? If he could bring himself to leave that long.

The detective opened his eyes and glanced down at Kaito, so peaceful and dear, nestled against his chest. What sort of trouble would Kaito get into without him? Hakuba wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that. Or what he, himself, would do when left to his own devices for too long. Odd, he considered, and silly… being afraid of being alone after years and years of being nothing but. It made him smile, just a faint little crook at the corner of one side of his mouth. What a fool.

But then, Kaito had accepted him. All of him. There were many secrets that Hakuba had kept to himself, but for the most part, anything unearthed had been received with understanding and care. Even the little silver cross that he wore underneath his clothes. It glinted in the faint light of the dying fire, still around his neck, draped near Kaito’s face. He hadn’t asked any questions or called him out for being superstitious. Honestly, a man of logic with a relic like that. Hakuba couldn’t help it. If there were a spot in Hell waiting for him, he wanted to be prepared… not that a simple cross would save him, but it couldn’t hurt.

Honestly, what was he doing? A man of God, parading about in a foreign country pretending to be a cold and logical man of science and reason. Which he was, but… What would Kudo-san think if he knew about the cross? Or, heaven forbid, Hattori-san. He didn’t want to know the answer to that, either. It would never come up, not unless Kaito-kun betrayed him. But so far, against every preconceived notion that Hakuba had anticipated, he hadn’t. Not yet. He didn’t dare hope that the day wouldn’t come, because it always did, but perhaps…

With another sigh, Hakuba leaned back, returning his hand to Kaito’s hair. He was being ridiculous. And all over a pack of cigarettes. Could he give them up? He’d always thought that the one per month limit set by Baaya was so reasonable. And now that he was an adult, it wasn’t even shady. Yet he worked so hard to keep the dirty habit out of everyone’s knowledge. Why? If the idea of others knowing bothered him so much, then why did he do it? Did his entire life need to be a lie? He’d been so untouchable. The walls that he’d put into place had been so utterly effective, keeping everyone out but… but Kaito-kun.

And even then, it would eventually come to an end. Whether Kaito-kun would tire of him, or the distance when he left Japan, he wasn’t sure. But when it was over, he’d put up new walls. Stronger ones. And he’d throw himself into his work and studies and it wouldn’t even matter. Hell, he could pick up the habit again then, if he wanted to, and go back to the pubs on the weekends, make new ‘friends,’ and please his mother by pretending that he was carrying on, being social, being acceptable.

More pain. When would it stop broiling over? Hakuba closed his eyes again, squeezing them tightly. He’d be okay. He was always okay. No matter what happened, Hakuba could maintain a calm and collected disposition, and move through life, putting on a show that made it all look effortless. As soon as the school year was over, he’d start over again, and he would make sure that there were no cracks this time. No openings for someone like Kuroba to see the hidden pain. He could give up smoking until then. Surely he could. He’d find something else to  dull the ache. Kaito himself had done so much for him already…

He looked up at the ceiling, believing for half a moment that he was already back in London. Having Kaito there in his arms seemed somehow fitting, even though it actually made little to no sense. And yet, he couldn’t deny that he wanted that.

Hakuba, pull yourself together… this is ridiculous.

But was it? Everything was so scrambled in his head, he couldn’t decide. It was the perfect time for a cigarette and he had none. Only Kaito, whom he could nearly admit, privately, that he loved.

This night, he knew, was only the first in many sleepless nights to come.

by

Snow (Fanfic)

A few people asked for this, so… here is a little ficlit I wrote for the CK’s Kaito – last year?, which takes place long after our EPIC CONAN FANFIC (aka the Call of the Raven). It involves Hakuba shopping for a Christmas present for Kaito, who he’s been dating for some time now. Also involved is Mitzi, an OC who I created to be Hakuba’s platonic female friend while he’s going to college in England. I love her to death, but honestly Emi is so much better in every way (oops sorry Mitzi). 

It’s ROMANTIC~ 

Snow

The cobblestone streets were littered with people and snow, caking boots and the hems of trousers with mud and mush. Each alleyway seemed pack to the brim, each person on a mission and able to move only through the polite bumps and nods of those around them. Flashes of bright paper stood out among the heavy coats of earth tones, packages wrapped by professional clerks at the various shops of town. The wrapping was far too good to have been done by most of their carriers, but it didn’t seem to matter as each successful purchase enabled buyers to cross off one more thing from their extensive Christmas to-do lists. 

Out and about this late morning was one Saguru Hakuba and one Mitzi Kenwick, who pressed their way through the crowds and into blissfully warmer shops, searching. 
“Oh, oh, look at this one!”
Mitzi’s never-ending excitement never failed to confuse Hakuba, who dragged his gaze away from the newspaper at the register with all reluctance, and followed after. “Which one, what?”
“This one, James! This one.” Mitzi pointed at the glass case at her mitten-covered fingertips and looked back at him with a broad smile. “Look, there’s a clover and everything. You said he liked clubs most, right?”
“Well… sure, I suppose.” He glanced down at the various trinkets behind the thick pane and frowned. 
“What?” Mitzi tilted her head at Hakuba’s disapproving glance. “Oh, come off it. What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s just not quite what I was looking for.”
The girl hefted a sigh – frustrated, but not to the point of giving up. Yet. “Okay, Mr Fancy Pants. We’ve been to thirteen shops today alone and you haven’t even begun to tell me what it is you’re looking for. It’s freezing out!”
“You should have worn a scarf." 
Mitzi rolled her eyes which got a chuckle from the detective, but she didn’t stop to appreciate it, instead rolling away against the counter and onto the next section. "But you’re pretty sure that it’s going to be in a place like this? I can’t tell if you’re looking for jewelry or an heirloom or what.”
Hakuba followed after, gaze shifting over each item of interest as he walked. His hands moved to loose the scarf from around his neck, letting it fall over either shoulder and down the front of his overcoat. It was a Burberry, which was warm and comfortable and one of the few clothing items that his mother had forced upon him since moving back home that he truly loved. He considered giving one to Mitzi for Christmas as she seemed to be lacking in everything scarf, but spending that much money on a lady friend that truly was just a friend seemed a little superfluous. She would likely call him arrogant and wear it as if it were one from any old department store, anyway. 
Life had been so much more simple before Hakuba had to worry about Christmas gifts. Oh, sure he’d always found something to give to his parents and Baaya, but now having friends to shop for, and a lover, especially… It meant a great deal more work for him. Still, it’s not as if he would trade it for anything. The life he had now was wonderful. Absolutely magnificent. And soon, he knew, it would get even better.
He just had to find the right gift. 
The pair of Cambridge students skirted about the shop, but found nothing to Hakuba’s particular taste. To Mitzi’s dismay, this meant going back out into the cold. And cold it was. The breeze picked up, pulling at her skirts and nipping at her ears and the tip of her nose. She stayed close to Hakuba, who walked impassively from the shop and onto the next, hands in his pockets, smile faint on his face behind rosy cheeks and pink ears. 
After the next three shops, the two took a break to get lunch and a spot of tea, and then they were off again. 
“Are you really going to drag me all over London?" 
"If that’s what it takes.”
And so it was to half a dozen other shoppes; jewelry shops, precious stones, antique stores, pawn shops. Hakuba’s own legs were stiff from the cold and exertion when he finally found what he was looking for. He smiled a broad, pleased smile, looking it over once the shop keeper pulled it from its case and gently laid it in the detective’s hands.
“Mitzi, come look at this.” Hakuba turned the object over in his palm, fingertips caressing the gold leafing. He paused when there was no response and looked back to find the girl seated near the entrance, asleep. It struck him as a sort of Norman Rockwell illustration, with the pigeon-toed girl still only while she’s sleeping. He turned back to the shop keeper. “And how much is this piece?”
The shop keeper pulled up his registration notes in a large, fat, binder and located the item in question, sliding the ledger to Hakuba with a gentle smile. “Is it for the lady?” he asked, voice hushed.
“Hm?” Hakuba blinked, then glanced over his shoulder at Mitzi again before laughing at himself. “Oh, no… no, she’s just a dear friend. This is for my boyfriend overseas.”
He looked back at the ledger to reconfirm the price, then paused. The old man stared at him. Anxious, Hakuba set his jaw tight, wondering if perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything.
“Oh.” The old finally said,cracking a wry smile. “That’s lucky, then! I’m certain that it’ll look better on him than her, that’s for sure. I was worried that I was going to have to educate you on lady’s jewelry… but this is a good choice for your needs. Is the price agreeable?”
Relieved, Hakuba nodded with a rare feeling of outward enthusiasm. “Yes, I think that will do just fine. Can you have it boxed for me?”
“I’ll do you one better.”  The man called his assistant over, who hurried to the back room. While waiting for her to get back, he turned the gleaming piece of gold over in his age-worn hands. “We have the original box for this one. I knew the previous owner quite well.”
The detective had known that he was getting a previously owned antique, but he hadn’t expected there to be personal attachment to it. He took the opportunity interim to dig through is pockets and find his wallet. “They must have loved it, with the condition that it’s in. Will cash do?”
“Yes, that’s preferred,” the old man answered the question first, then turned to take the little leather box from the assistant that had returned. He showed it to Hakuba, then placed it on the glass counter top while he prepared the item in question. “Indeed, he did love it. Gift from his wife, you know? Treasured it long after she passed away, never took it off. Dedication, that. If you’re hoping for an engagement…”
“Shh,” Hakuba held up a hand. “None of our friends know quite yet.”
“Oh, are you hoping for Christmas, then?”
Hakuba couldn’t help the faint blush on his cheeks that stirred, coloring his pale English face. “That’s… the current plan, yes.”
The man chuckled. “Make sure that you’re certain. If you give a gift like this, the rule is that they get to keep it even if you break it off.”
“Not to worry,” Hakuba said, shaking his head. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.” The old man carefully pulled the band from the cloth he’d used to wipe it down, then slipped it into the fitted box. He closed it with a snap and then handed it to his assistant for wrapping, turning back to the detective to manage the transaction. 
Hakuba paid the man, idly watching as the box was wrapped in thick, brown paper first, then a layer of modern charcoal wrappings; slick and shiny. A ribbon was added, and then placed inside of a bag bearing the shop’s name. The old man retrieved certifications and statements from the ledger, added them to the bag, and passed it over the counter.
“Happy Christmas and a preemptive congratulations, young man.”
Blushing further still, Hakuba caught himself mid-bow and offered a nod in gratitude. “Happy Christmas,” he said in return, then retreated to Mitzi’s side. He crouched down and shook her shoulder gently, then a little harder until she responded, looking up at him with a groggy, only half-there expression, glasses hanging crookedly from her nose.
“Huhwha? Oh I’m stiiiiiff… James, what are we doing? Can we give up for the day?”
“I think so." 
"Wait, did you actually- Whaaat?! And I missed it?! What is it?!”
“I’m not telling.”
“That’s not fair.” Mitzi got to her feet and leaned on Hakuba for support, who likewise straightened up and got his coat rebuttoned in preparation for heading back outside.  
“If I tell you, then you’ll ask more questions and I won’t be able to keep it to myself.”
Mitzi raised a coy brow at this, elbowing Hakuba roughly in the side. “Oh, come off it! If you’re going to hint like that I’m just going to figure it out!”
Hakuba rolled his eyes and held the door to the cold outside for her, glancing at the shop keeper and his assistant, who grinned in amusement back at him. To Mitzi, he replied, “It’s fine if you figure it out, just don’t talk about it to anyone… especially me.”
Mitzi waited until the door had closed and Hakuba was at her side again before she gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, fine… When is Kaito getting here again, anyway?”
“Two days from now.”
“And he’ll be staying for all of Christmas?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She giggled. “Will you have an announcement to make by the ball, then?”
“I suppose we shall have to see.”
Grabbing his arm, Mitzi pulled Hakuba away from the shop and back onto the busy sidewalk, which glowed under the neon lights of the various business signs and the lanterns from the street. “All right, all right. Shall we stop by a pub before home, then?”
Hakuba looked down at her, raising a brow before he let himself smile. “I think that sounds like a brilliant idea. Stonebridge?”
“Stonebridge!" 
He tucked Kaito’s present deep into the safest pocket of his overcoat, nestling it against his side so that he could feel it as they walked. Each step reminded him that, soon, life would change again. 
And for once, he was not only ready, but excited.
by

Prom Night (Detective Conan/Magic Kaitou fanfic)

gabappledc:

Earlier, some asked me to post the stuff I was writing with Drunk!Hakuba, but that scene is… very much not ready to post, so here’s something else that I drafted today. I hope it’s… interesting? 🙂 I’ve kind of invented a LOT of material for Hakuba’s backstory, so I’m curious as to how he’ll come across to the rest of you. 

Side note: When working on the Epic Conan Fanfic (Call of the Raven), CloverKite and I stick to a handful of main characters each, and share the extras. Sometimes, we end up with a scene that is between characters in our own roster, like this one between Hakuba and Akako, and we handle the scene on our own. Which is why I’m able to post this (and the fact that it doesn’t give away the main plotline at all, just hints at it). 

Oh, and this is NSFW.

THAT SAID…. please enjoy! ^o^;

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((OOC/Mun says: I’m opening a fanfic/fanart section of this blog, and this is the only fic I’ve posted thus far… hence the reblog. Future submissions will just be posted here and properly tagged. Thanks!))

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“This is truly embarrassing…”