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Kaito almost dropped his box. This was probably one of the more dangerous situations he'd found himself in. Bombs exploding, bullets flying, falling off of buildings... none of it compared to accidentally running into Conan Edogawa, The KID Killer, in his civilian persona. Not that Conan himself was looking particularly dangerous at the moment. He had a thin, clear plastic tube pumping oxygen into him, sweaty, fallow skin, and blue-tinged lips. The sound of the breaths that struggled to his ears reminded him of the sound a straw makes, when trying to suck up the last bit of soda pop. An air-purifier was whirring under his bed, which was shrouded in clear plastic sheeting, making a clean room inside the room, with space for germy-outsiders to look in on him. Tired eyes rolled to glance at him, then rolled up and out of sight, covered by heavy lids.
The nurse nudged him, so he'd stop blocking the doorway. Nothing happened. Perhaps Conan hadn't recognized him. Maybe the world wasn't about to end?
"This is the kid I told you about," the nurse said quietly, arms crossed over the comical print on his scrubs. "He's going to try to make you leave by insulting you, so don't take anything he says too seriously. He's just scared, lonely, and extremely sick."
"I can... hear you," Conan grumbled, pausing every couple words to catch his breath.
"Do your best!" With a cheerful, sanitized smile, the nurse fled the room.
He was trapped in a room with a bored, vindictive KID Killer.
"Clowns are ... dumb," the wheezy little voice snarled.
"Magician," he corrected automatically, setting the box down.
The little eyes snapped open, and Conan pulled himself up onto his shaky elbows. A cold, crooked smile cracked across his colorless cheeks, sadistic as a cat with its half-alive prey.
"You look tired," he muttered, "Perhaps you can catch my show some other day." He picked his box up, ready to flee.
"No!" Conan snapped. "Stay here ... and talk ... with me. Don't bother ... with the pa ... parlor tricks."
Picking up and setting down his box of props was getting tiresome. He brought it over to the side of the KID Killer's bed and sat on it obediently.
"Don't be... so scared. I'm not ... going to..." a fit of coughing overtook him, shaking his little, pallid limbs. His lips were a darker blue, and it took a few minutes before they got closer to the red side of purple.
"So," Kaito started, while Conan worked on breathing. "So, I wasn't expecting to meet you. I mean, I've been performing for sick kids for the past few weeks, but I had no idea that you were sick like this." He picked up the clipboard at the end of the bed, and scanned the chart. "Immunodeficiency of unknown origin, and an opportunistic bit of pneumonia? Is that like AIDS?"
Conan scowled at the words, "unknown origin."
"Of course, you've probably already figured out what's caused it all, and they're too dumb to listen to a little kid, so you spend your days torturing them. Is it something like that?"
"Poison." The word was hardly audible.
"A poison can do this?" he looked incredulous for a moment, but Conan's fierce frown told him to set aside his doubts. "Do you know who did it?"
Conan weakly nodded.
"And you've caught them, at least, right?" He watched the little face carefully, hopefully.
Conan closed his eyes and turned his face away. He took a slow breath, so Kaito waited patiently for the sentence to come out. "One year... ago... I ... can't prove... anything..."
"But you're the KID Killer! I've never seen you stuck for long on a case. It's spooky how fast you put everything together. There's no way that some killer could be good enough to..." The furious look on Conan's face made him stop.
"Remember ... the train?"
Recognition hit Kaito like one of those horrible soccer-balls. "Those guys?" he almost yelled, jumping up. He could almost feel the heat the of the explosion on his back again.
"Don't panic." His small, clammy hand gestured as though he was telling a dog to "Sit!'
He closed his eyes, re-securing his poker face over the broiling terror inside. When he had calmed down again, he opened his eyes, and studied the pathetic little form in front of him. "So, what's the prognosis? You're not on your deathbed, or anything, right? They didn't manage to murder you, right?"
Smiling, the little devil fell back into the pillows with a moan. "No... not yet. This... is from... an anti-... dote..."
Kaito sunk back onto his box. He half thought to himself, half whispered, "What kind of poison would be worth an antidote that does this?"
A hissing chuckle answered him.
"No seriously," he said louder. "What could be not as bad as pneumonia? I haven't seen you seem poisoned or all that ill even; you've always been energetic and a pain in my ass." He met the half closed eyes, which were laughing at some obvious joke that he should have gotten.
"You never... tried to... find my... real name?" Conan gurgled. "I found... yours... ages ago... I gave... you hints..."
"Why? You're just you, why would a little kid need a pseudonym?"
He smacked his head. "Oh, yeah, right. I guess, since I'm here now, you can just tell me?"
That wicked little half-smile was back.
"Another hint?" he plead.
Conan liked being dominate, and the pride at having beaten Kaitou KID yet again clearly showed on his pale face. "You look... a lot like... the real... me."
"You mean this face?" He tapped his chin.
Conan grinned. "We could... be twins..."
There was a knock, and the door popped open. The nurse from before was leading an old woman who had a white lab-coat on over her scrubs.
"Sorry to interrupt," she said kindly. "Conan dear, it's time to check on your progress."
He rolled his eyes at the magician sitting on his box. "Tomorrow?"
Kaito grinned. "Sure thing, buddy." He turned to the stunned medical staff. "Can I come again after school?"
They nodded dumbly.
"Well, Conan, it was a pleasure talking to you. I'll leave my "dumb clown" props behind next time, and I'll have your riddle figured out." He got up, bowed with a grand sweep of an imaginary white cape, and tipped an invisible top hat as he gathered his box. There were other children waiting for his performance, after all.
Out in the hall, the nurse leading him to his next client asked, "How did you manage it? No one likes that nosy brat. Not even his family visits him."
Kaito secured his poker face, resisting the urge to suggest that it wasn't all Conan's fault. Instead, he smiled. "He tried to chase me off at first, but I gave him a puzzle to solve. Did you know that he's ridiculously smart?"
The nurse shrugged. "He's a kid."
Condescending asshole. No wonder Conan tormented him. "Have you heard of the little kid who was able to prevent Kaitou KID from getting away with the treasure every time he's allowed to participate? That's him. He's able to do what a whole police taskforce has managed only a handful of times, and he does it every time."
"Really?" He turned to watch Conan in his plastic tent being rolled down the empty hallway with a mixture of awe and confusion on his face. "I'd heard that some little kid had beaten Kaitou KID, but I don't really follow that stuff."
"So, for a kid like that, to be so sick, trapped here, bored out of his mind... I'll bet he started telling you about everything you thought you were managing to hide, right?"
The nurse scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously.
"So, give him the most difficult, complex detective novels you can find, and he'll stop deducing all of your private secrets. And let me visit him every day. I've got some rapport with him."
"Kuroba," the nurse said hesitantly, "You're really good with kids. But, don't get too attached to Conan."
He wrinkled his brow. "Why?"
"With cases, complex cases, when the patient is already so weak, you have to prepare yourself for the worst. It's awful, but kids like him sometimes just don't make it."
Kaito stopped walking, clutching his box to his chest. "Is that why no one talks to him or visits him? You're bracing for his death?" His poker-face cracked, and words escaped through his clenched jaw.
The nurse grabbed Kaito's shoulder and gently squeezed it, a halfhearted attempt at comforting him. "It's no use getting mad. These things happen. Hey," he crouched a little to look straight into Kaito's downcast eyes. "If you need to, you can go home for now, and think about all of this. You're not the first person to realize how indifferent the universe is to human suffering."
Kaito nodded dumbly, and turned to leave.
He already knew this. He learned it when he lost his father at the tender age of eight. But, to be facing death so young, with no one to support him?
Stupid universe.
For once, Kaito was in no way involved in the classroom mayhem. Today, it was Koizumi. That morning she’d stepped into the classroom and freaked out, yelling about "low level demon scum" and "stinking miasma!" Her headdress jangled as she chanted in some long lost tongue and waved a bundle of burning sage that choked the air with incense. Anyone even slightly inclined to liking women was wandering around the classroom trying to be helpful in some way. Even Aoko was laying pieces of paper with "Evil be gone!" scrawled on them on the windowsills.
Kaito ignored it all, opting instead to skim the titles of articles on his phone. He was trying to research Conan's illness. Immunodeficiency was usually a symptom of something else, he found. There was a surprising number of conditions that could cause a temporary weakening of one's immune-system. He was immersed in an article describing how HIV worked when someone waved their big, annoying hand in his face.
"Buzz off, Hakuba," he muttered.
"I'm curious," Hakuba said, sitting down at Aoko's desk, beside him. "Why have you been researching AIDS all morning? Usually I see you checking the news for articles about Kaitou KID."
Kaito closed his phone, and turned to face Hakuba. He was still undecided between flipping the chair and making the prick fall on his ass, or asking him for help.
Seeing his hesitation, Hakuba said, "I heard from Keiko that you've been performing for long-term patients at the Haido hospital. Did something happen?" His expression was uncharacteristically gentle. "A much better use of your talents, in my opinion," he added, under his breath.
Kaito sighed and set down his cellphone. "There's this little kid I met yesterday. He's really smart, someone who should have a bright future. But..." he trailed off, his anger choking him.
"I can fill in the gaps," Hakuba almost sounded sympathetic. His usual smirk was nowhere to be found. "That's horrible. At least you're doing something to help make whatever time he has left more enjoyable, right? Why don't you focus on that?"
Perhaps Hakuba was putting in an effort to not be an asshole for once. Or it was part of a long-con. But for this, what would the harm be?
"It's not that so much. I knew that going in. It's just that," he bit his lip. "It's like everyone's trying to forget him. He doesn't get visitors anymore. I didn't see any get-well presents or cards. He's really lonely, angry, and vindictive. He spent most of the time I was there teasing me for not being as smart as he was."
Conan's riddle surfaced in his memory. He'd never particularly felt he needed to know Conan's real identity, but now that he'd been commanded to figure it out, he might as well probe Hakuba's brain. "By the way, he gave me a mystery that I've been trying to figure out, but I'm not a detective."
Hakuba laughed. "You want to cheat so you can beat the kid?"
"It's not cheating," he grumbled, "it's just using all of the resources at one's disposal."
Hakuba waved Kaito on, flicking his fingers as though he was turning the page of a book. His eyes narrowed, eager to see what puzzle could trip up the great Kaitou KID.
"There's a detective who looks like he could be my twin, who is the son of an actress, and probably has been missing for a while."
Hakuba barely took a moment to think about it. "You mean Shinichi Kudou? What about him?"
Kaito blinked. "How did you figure that out so fast?"
He shrugged. "It's easy if you're already familiar with the case. I poked around it when I was invited to take his place at a detective-tournament. That was almost a year ago, and he'd been missing since before that. I hit a wall in the investigation as soon as I started asking questions. There isn't even an official missing person's report filed, and my dad got a call from some FBI agent threatening me with official obstruction charges if I kept poking around. So, what was the kid's mystery?" He leaned on his elbow, watching Kaito carefully.
"Wait, how old is Shinichi Kudou? I thought he was our age," Kaito flipped open his smartphone again, to type in the name.
"He is," Hakuba confirmed before Kaito could finish typing. "He was even on my list of Kaito KID suspects before I honed in on you."
The pieces slid into place. He'd been poisoned a year ago by some kind of crime syndicate. He was freaky smart for a kid. He was willing to try potentially life-threatening antidotes to reverse it. Conan Edogawa and Shinichi Kudou were the same person. That meant there was something that could turn a teenager into a small child. Immortality from a gem stone was suddenly less implausible. He could feel the blood draining from his face. At some point he must've stopped breathing, because he was getting light-headed.
Hakuba's voice called him back to reality. "Hey! HEY!" He shook Kaito's shoulder. "What's wrong? Are you feeling ill? Is the sage smoke bothering you?"
He reached up to feel his own forehead, but noticed that his hand was shaking, and put it back down, clenched. "No, I just figured it all out. Come with me to the roof, and I'll tell you about it."
They left the classroom, stepping around Akako and her zombie-slave-boys who were stapling sage branches around the doorway.
As Kaito wobbled down the hallway, half towed by Hakuba, more pieces fell together. That bastard already knew his identity, and therefore likely knew Hakuba was his classmate. Conan knew he was probably going to die. He didn't want the people who murdered him to get away with it. He'd just asked Kaito and Hakuba to avenge his murder.
"That bastard," Kaito muttered. "I can't believe I just walked right into that."
"At some point you're going to have to explain what's going on," Hakuba said, leaning Kaito against the wall while he opened the door. "Great," he said after scanning the roof. "No one's here."
"Good," Kaito answered. "Before I explain anything, I have a question. Do you remember Conan Edogawa?" he plopped himself down on the roof.
Hakuba sat down beside him, not letting his eyes leave Kaito for a second. "Is he the kid you were talking about?"
"Of course I do. He's an unnerving child, isn't he? From what I've been able to find out," he closed his eyes, like he was reading a file behind his eyelids. "He's living under an alias. He doesn't have proper paperwork filed, and I couldn't find birth records. He's extremely manipulative and intelligent, and he's attention starved, likely neglected before he left home. It'd explain why he seems to prefer living with Kogorou's abuse instead of finding a more suitable home – he couldn't poke around investigations and play detective otherwise."
"There's nothing play-like about what that sadistic bastard does. Do you know how he likes to deal with Kaitou KID? Not by catching him, by putting him in the hospital. I can't believe I just felt empathy for that psycho!"
Hakuba's eyebrows arched. He seemed genuinely concerned – none of his tells were showing. "He's put you in the hospital?"
Kaito ignored that insinuation. "He just manipulated me into asking you to look into a case for him."
"Let me guess, Shinichi Kudou's case?"
"Yeah," Kaito grit his teeth. "He put me smack in the middle of it, without me even knowing what the fuck was happening."
"Well then," the detective sighed, "I guess I have no choice. I'll have to take the case."
"Are you serious?" Kaito almost yelled, but remembered to tone his voice down at the last second, nervously glancing at the door. "You haven't seen what the people who did it are like. They blew up the luggage car of the Bell-Tree Express, just so they could murder one of their ex-agents!"
"And Conan's been facing these monsters all by himself?" Hakuba's jaw was set, and his usually gentle brown eyes were as sharp as blades. He could feel them dissecting him for answers.
"They'll probably kill us. If they can do that to Shinichi freaking Kudou... I don't know how we could stand a chance." He leaned back onto the chain-link fence, gazing up at the sky. "He's asking us to go on a suicide mission to avenge his murder, Hakuba. Hell, I'll probably be on the top of their hit list when they figure out..." he stopped, more pieces falling into place. "The creepy girl! Her too? I knew I recognized that voice!"
Hakuba crossed his arms. "I assume that at some point you're going to let me join this conversation you're having with yourself."

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