Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

Freefall

By Taliya

Word Count: 1100

It was not often that Kuroba Kaito, sometimes more infamously known as Kaitou KID, felt the bite of depression. Most days found him pranking his classmates, performing impromptu magic shows, or dodging cleaning implements courtesy of his best friend, Nakamori Aoko. Some nights found him dancing out of the reach of the Kaitou KID Task Force, teasing Inspector Nakamori into apoplectic rages, or exchanging barbs with his youngest critic, Edogawa Conan, the de-aged form of high school detective Kudou Shinichi. Most twenty four-hour periods found Kuroba Kaito presenting to the world the image of a happy-go-lucky teenager or a playful yet skillful magician-thief.

However, this was not one of his usual days. Today, Kuroba Kaito felt those teeth sink in keenly.

Today was Kuroba Touichi's birthday.

It was a Saturday, so Kaito had no need to lock his Poker Face securely on as there was no audience to entertain. It was just him, alone, waiting and mentally rehearsing for every eventuality that should occur at the Kaitou KID heist scheduled for that evening. A successful heist, Pandora or not, would be his birthday gift to his late father, a nod and a promise to fulfill to the legacy Touichi had inadvertently bestowed upon his son. The heist tonight, Kaito knew, was merely a distraction from the heartache that loomed like a thunderhead on the horizon, one that promised destruction and devastation. Not even Aoko knew about his days of mourning. They were extremely intimate, and very private.

Look at me, being all mopey, he thought as he rose from his chair. Barking a harsh laugh, the eighteen-year-old snatched his book bag from where it rested by his door, dragging it to his desk with the intention of getting some of his homework done. An hour passed, then two, and Kaito gave up when all he had to show were two completed questions from his multivariable calculus class.

My concentration's shot. He ran a hand through his already messy hair and stood, heading downstairs to the kitchen to make himself dinner. An hour later found him sitting at the dining table with his phone in hand as he checked the news, slurping a bowl of tsukimi udon. The clock in the corner of his phone's screen read 19:26. KID's heist was not set to start until 22:00.

The heist had gone off without a hitch. Young Edogawa's presence had him thinking on his feet, reveling in the thrill of the hunt. He had laughed victoriously as he had made his escape, swooping high above the buildings of Chiyoda under the watchful full moon. He stopped at the top of one of the office buildings for a breather, both to relax from the adrenaline high and to calm his racing heart. He pulled out the Viridian Heart, holding the up the watermelon tourmaline up and sighing when it failed to glow a bloody crimson.

"Happy birthday, Oyaji," he whispered, feeling his heart clench. He palmed the gem, squeezing it tightly in his hand as he pressed it against his chest. His sinuses burned with the coming of tears, and he settled on the parapet with a foot dangling hundreds of meters above the streets as his breath hitched. "I miss you," he whispered as he pocketed the jewel. He laughed sardonically at himself. "Gods I'm such a mess." And with that admittance, Kuroba Kaito allowed himself to grieve on one of two days in the year where he felt it was appropriate to let his Poker Face slide off—the other being the day his father died.

Shinichi panted on the landing, having finally climbed to the top after sprinting up the flight from the highest floor the elevator could take him to the roof. He had felt there had been something off about the night's heist, and so had stayed behind to watch that recognizable white triangle drift away from the heist location. He had used the zooming capability in his glasses to follow the thief, taking note of the out-of-the-way building he landed upon before dashing to the elevator. He paused before the door that would take him outside, forcefully slowing his breaths. Once he was no longer sucking in air like a half-drowned man, he opened the exit as quietly as he could so as not to disturb the target of his attentions. He had no idea what he was expecting; Shinichi had just felt that something had been bothering the consummate actor. That anything would trouble the magician to the point that it showed—though he was sure he was the only one who noticed—was worrying.

Whatever he was expecting, he was not prepared to see Kaitou KID sitting on the edge of the roof, softly sobbing as the wind gently flapped his cape. It was—a jarring sight. KID had never appeared less than perfectly in control of his situation, regardless of whatever it might be. Seeing the magician show anything but his usual cocky confidence made him feel as though he were intruding, and the detective knew without a doubt that this was one of those private moments.

He stood, frozen just within the stairwell, unsure of what to do next when KID jerked where he sat. Barely a moment after something collided into the outer wall of the stairwell with a crack. Shinichi jumped, eyes widening instantly in realization and he twisted to look at the phantom thief. He watched, paralyzed with horror and disbelief as a patch of red blossomed between the magician's shoulders on his cape.

"No…" he murmured, sprinting towards the thief. "No no no…" He leapt, hands outstretched, reaching for the thief's white cape. KID swayed along the edge of the building before tipping forwards and plummeting over the parapet. "NO!" The silk mantle slithered between his grasping fingers. "KID!" Shinichi skidded on his chest to the ledge, watching with growing dread as the thief fell.

KID had turned midair so that he faced upwards, and despite the rapidly growing distance between them, they locked eyes. "Deploy your glider!" Shinichi screamed. The detective read the resigned acceptance of his fate as crystal droplets drifted from his uncovered eye and felt his own tear up in frustration and fury. He blinked rapidly to clear them, and could only watch helplessly as KID closed his eyes moments before he hit the ground.

He had no idea how long he lay on the roof, but when he finally pushed himself to his knees, he was cold, stiff, and strangely numb. And yet—

—his scream disappeared into the night, devoured by the wind.

Author's Note: I had this written out fully as a potential admission for SS Contest #3: Tears, but ended up submitting something different. This ended up getting repurposed and pared down a bit. Kaito's never told anyone that he still mourns this deeply on the day of his father's death—not even to Aoko, as he had no desire to make her think he was still somewhat mentally unstable. … and I seem to like killing Kaito. I have issues—seriously, because he is my favorite character in the DCMK universe, and I killed him. Again. I hope you enjoyed it.

Completed: 01.09.2015