Well, everyone, we have reached the end. As promised, it's a happy ending!

chapter eight / and all i need is you

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If he had been a little bit more theatric, Kaito might have expected it to rain. After all, it was his last day on earth, his last day with Shinichi, so it would be only appropriate.

It was overcast.

Kaito sighed, leaning back against the pillows. Shinichi refused to let him out of bed (oh how he wished that was in a different context) on the grounds that "you're still not well" since he'd woken up with his head on Kaito's legs that morning. It seemed Kaito's second attack had shaken him up to the point that he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Are you sure we can't get out and, I don't know, do something?" he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Something. Anything would be better than sitting here and thinking, This is my last time in this bed, this is my last time breathing this air, this is my last time seeing Shinichi solve cases. Anything.

Shinichi, who was sitting at his desk rummaging through case files, didn't even spare him a glance. He starred a sentence and drew an arrow up to the picture of the crime scene. "No. You've had, what, three attacks in the past two days? I'm not going to let you go out and do anything."

"It was only two attacks." Shinichi just shook his head at Kaito's attempt, and Kaito slumped in defeat. Damn Shinichi and his stupid protective instincts. He stared at his hands - his too big, too rough, too clumsy hands. "And I've had attacks before I met you. They're no big deal."

"Your heart just about stopped beating, and you call it no big deal. I swear, Kurosawa," Shinichi muttered under his breath, circling something.

Kurosawa. Kaito was starting to hate that name with everything he had. He yanked a hand through his too fine, too straight, too light hair and shut his too small, too deep set, too green eyes tightly. If only he had his own face.

"I'm going to the bathroom," Kaito said before untangling himself from his sheets and stalking out of the room.

Shinichi's gaze trailed after him, and he swallowed a sigh, dropping his pen to press his face into his hands wearily.

"What am I supposed to do?" he mumbled to the empty room.

Kaito trudged down the stairs, fumbling the last step so he almost went sprawling. Apparently, two days of being confined to bed could do that to you. He didn't complain, though. Something that small didn't matter on your last day alive.

He passed through the kitchen. The kitchen table sat quietly in front of him, bare and sleepy. Shinichi hadn't been down to the kitchen except to get water, tea, or soup for him, so the table was still clean from the last time they'd cleaned up after dinner.

Kaito placed a hand on the cool surface. How many times had he talked to Shinichi here over coffee? Visions of Shinichi sitting there, alone with case files and a half-empty mug, made Kaito choke back a flinch. He shut his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't think Shinichi was strong enough to live without him; Kaito just didn't want to not be there to see him…

Forcing himself to turn away, he clomped out of the kitchen.

The next room was the library. A little half-smile played over Kaito's lips as his eyes swept over the rows and rows of books. He remembered his first time here, a few days after he'd revealed himself to Shinichi. He'd been hugely impressed by the sheer number of books.

"All of these are on murder, aren't they?" Kaito had asked as he had his fingertips lightly over the spines. Encyclopedia of Poisonous Plants and Their Antidotes, one of them read; another, Confession. "That's just like you, tantei-kun."

"I guess." Shinichi had been standing in the doorway, watching Kaito distrustfully. "I hope you know, though, that I'm more than just murder cases and death."

"Of course you are," Kaito had laughed. "You're just as human as the rest of us."

He hadn't really believed himself.

And now, Kaito just groaned at his own stupidity. How things changed. How his perception of Shinichi had changed.

He started to one of the bookshelves. But all of these books really were about murder, weren't they?

Kaito tugged Vengeance Is Mine out from between 17-Sai and Why Did the Family Kill Each Other?, flipping through the pages. He flinched at a few of the words he caught. Yep, definitely about murder –

A small slip of paper drifted out from between two pages, landing at his feet. Raising an eyebrow, Kaito shut the book and leaned over to pick it up.

It was a note written in Shinichi's handwriting. Meet Kuroba at seven tonight. Shinichi had probably written it as a reminder so he wouldn't forget when he got engrossed in reading. For the life of him, Kaito couldn't remember which meeting this one was. Could it have been that time they went out for okonomiyaki? Or that time they went to Sanada Kazumi's magic show? Or some other time that he'd forgotten, some other time that he'd been stupid enough not to remember, because time with Shinichi was the most precious thing in the universe and he'd –

"I'm fairly certain this isn't the bathroom, but I could be wrong."

Almost dropping the paper at Shinichi's voice, Kaito whirled around in surprise. "You scared me," he stuttered, quickly slipping the note back into Vengeance Is Mine and replacing it on the bookshelf. "I was just…"

"You don't have to explain," the detective told him, strolling in and stopping in front of Kaito. "I don't mind that much. I'm sure you've got good reasons." His eyes raked over Kaito's before going to the books on the shelves. "Although I don't know why you would pick that book. It's not exactly light reading."

Kaito almost rolled his eyes at that. "Right."

Shinichi wasn't finished, though. He walked along the walls, drawing a hand across the books. "I'm sure you'd find something like this a bit more interesting." With some effort, he pulled a book out, presenting it to Kaito with a slight smile.

Brow furrowing, Kaito reached out to accept it from him. He was about to ask why Shinichi had picked this one in particular when he actually read the title, which was inscribed in English.

Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Burglar.

Eyes widening, Kaito's head snapped up to stare bemusedly at Shinichi, who was regarding him carefully. He hadn't been aware that Shinichi actually owned a copy of any of the Arsène Lupin books – they were about a thief, after all. It was one of Kaito's favorite series, yes, but…?

Clearing his throat, Kaito managed to say, "Why – I wouldn't have expected this. From you." He swallowed. "You're a detective, right?"

"That's true." Shinichi smirked. "Kaito was a huge fan of this series. He was always going on and on about how cool Lupin is and making references that I didn't get, so I read the whole series without his knowledge so I'd know what he was talking about. It's pretty good. I especially like 'Herlock Sholmes.'" He rolled his eyes and smiled good-naturedly.

Kaito just stared down at the book in his hands. Shinichi – who he was pretty sure only read murder mysteries and encyclopedias – had actually gone to the trouble of reading Arsène Lupin just so he could understand Kaito's references?

It was sickeningly adorable.

Shinichi was watching him, almost calculatingly. "Hey, Kurosawa," he suddenly said, leaning against one of the bookshelves, "do you have anything you want to tell me?"

"Huh?" Kaito blinked, tearing his gaze away from the cover of the book. "What do you mean?"

"Just…" Shinichi waved a hand vaguely. "I don't know, I feel like you might have something you want me to know."

It was all on the tip of his tongue. I'm actually Kuroba Kaito, the guy you're in love with who recently died, and I adore you to the point that it hurts. Today's my last day on earth, and then I'll actually die and we'll never see each other again. Cool? Cool.

But he bit it back, because what good would that do him? Kaito would just die on the spot. He wouldn't get to keep the sparse few hours left that he barely had.

So Kaito just shook his head, forced a smile, and clutched the copy of Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Burglar tighter to his heart. "No. Nothing at all."

The lie burned.

Well, this was it.

Kaito sat upright in the bed, watching the rhythmic fall of rise of Shinichi's chest as he slept in the chair beside the bed. (He had still insisted on that.) It was eleven forty-five, according to the watch he'd taken off of Shinichi's bathroom counter. He needed to leave, get far away from Shinichi, make sure he was alone when the soul reaper came for him.

Somehow, he was peaceful. He knew he had precious little time left, but that was okay. That was okay, because Shinichi was there.

Kaito followed the curve of Shinichi's jaw down his neck, into the top of his shirt. His skin was absolutely radiant in the moonlight that managed to squeeze between the blinds, almost luminescent. His hair fell in messy swatches across his forehead, resting just barely over his eyelids.

He was beautiful, he was perfect, he was Shinichi.

Once Kaito had memorized every inch of Shinichi, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and carefully, carefully maneuvered around the sleeping detective.

On the nightstand, the pages of Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Thief fluttered as Kaito walked resolutely past it and out the door.

He kept going, making sure he opened the front door as silently as possible. The night air that assaulted him was harsh and cold against his skin, but Kaito let himself appreciate it. It was the last time he'd feel it, after all.

The world was quiet, fittingly so. Kaito allowed a smile as he stopped underneath the huge tree growing in the front yard. The leaves rustled comfortingly over his head, as if trying to relax him. He pressed his hand to the tree bark, trying to thank it.

Kaito tipped his head back and drank in the night sky – royal blue silk scattered with diamonds. It reminded him just a little of Shinichi's eyes.

Sitting down, Kaito exhaled softly. With only a few minutes left to go, he might as well let himself be himself for the last time, right? Almost automatically, he plucked a small flower out from the grass and tucked it into his sleeve. It was awkward, with his bigger, less nimble hands and the smaller flower, but he managed to do it – make a flower appear out of nowhere. His favorite trick. The one he was best known for.

His hands moved through an array of tricks on autopilot. The flower turned from white to pink, multiplied, disappeared. Kaito rolled the stem between his fingers. He wondered if he could still do magic tricks in the afterlife?

The watch beeped. Kaito had set it to tell him when he had a minute left – he wanted some warning. He dropped his chin to his chest.

A minute left.

Sixty seconds.

Kaito set the flower down on the grass and leaned back against the tree, his eyelids dropping shut. It would be all right. He had gotten his week with Shinichi, his few days of paradise. He was going to be okay –

"Kaito!"

Kaito's eyes snapped open just in time to see Shinichi hurtling towards him, azure eyes wide and face pale. He barely had time to stand up before Shinichi was upon him, eyes positively luminous as he whispered, "You're Kaito, aren't you?" and there were lips on his, soft and sweet and so perfect Kaito wondered if this was heaven.

If it was, he didn't mind dying.

He almost winced when Shinichi pulled away, expression hopeful as he studied Kaito's face, gaze flitting from one eye to the other. "Kaito, it's you, isn't it?" A breath. "You're - you're Kaito, I love you. Don't go."

"I –" he stammered, blinking. This was too much. Shinichi – had actually bypassed his love for logic and rationality and figured it out, but there was no way that this could possibly –

"You're lucky, Kuroba Kaito. He figured it out just in time," came a familiar voice, and Kaito and Shinichi both simultaneously jumped. Shinichi seemed to instinctively step in front of him, one arm moving backwards to hold him back. Kaito smiled at that.

The soul reaper was walking towards them, her eyes glowing soft green. She was actually smiling, which surprised Kaito.

"Who is she?" Shinichi asked, his voice low and guarded, and Kaito blinked.

"You can see her? But you're not dead…?"

"Just for tonight," the soul reaper explained ambiguously. Her gaze was soft as it brushed over the two of them, Shinichi still standing protectively in front of Kaito. "Congratulations, Kudou Shinichi."

Shinichi stared. "What's going on? What did I do? Are we both going to die?"

"No," the soul reaper sighed, leaning on one hip. "I won't bother explaining it to you. I'll let Kuroba do the honors. But for now…" She unsheathed her katana (Shinichi and Kaito both tensed) and began to write. Dark black lines followed the path of her katana, inking characters into the air.

Kurosawa Haruto.

The letters smoked for a moment before they shattered, scattering the night with glinting black fragments. Kaito gasped, feeling as if something had cracked inside of him, and Shinichi glanced back at him in concern. His expression changed, though, when he caught sight of him.

"Kaito," he choked out, and Kaito blinked and looked down at his hands. They were his – slender fingers, smooth skin. He was himself?

The soul reaper slid her sword back into its sheath with a clang. "And that takes care of business," she concluded curtly, turning on her heel. "I hope you two last forever."

Kaito almost missed the way she peered over her shoulder and smiled, genuinely, before she disappeared in a dull flash of gray light.

Shinichi was gawking at him. "Kaito," he whispered, reaching up to cup Kaito's face and draw his thumb across his cheek. "Kaito, it's you. It's – you."

Placing his hand over Shinichi's, Kaito smiled at him. His heart was warmer than he would've thought possible, he felt happier than he ever had, and it was all because of Shinichi. "It's me. You – you recognized me, Shinichi. Underneath it all."

Swallowing, Shinichi managed a nod. "I – I had my suspicions, you know, but I thought it was impossible. I… I was there when you died. I watched your heart stop. I – I didn't think it was possible." His hand slipped down to hold the back of Kaito's head. "But just now, I heard you leave, so I followed you out here. There's – there's absolutely no one who can do your magic like you, Kaito. I knew it had to be you."

"Mm." Kaito dropped his head against Shinichi's chest, breathing in hard. Shinichi's heart hammered away underneath his ear, alive and warm and real. He was positive his was doing the same. "After I died, I made a deal with the soul reaper. If I could get you to confess to me over the course of a week while I didn't look like me, she would let me go and we'd live on together. If I didn't, we'd be separated forever."

He felt Shinichi tense underneath him. "You shouldn't have taken a gamble like this," the detective said, his voice taut. "We could've never seen each other again, we could've –"

"You were crying."

Shinichi froze. "What?"

"I was in the hospital room," Kaito explained. "You cried for me, Shinichi. You cried for me when you thought I was gone. And I couldn't just walk away after that."

There was a silence, then, gruffly, "Of course I cried. After all, I love you."

Kaito laughed breathlessly. "And I love you."

It was funny, Kaito reflected as he pulled his head from Shinichi's chest and pressed a kiss to his lips, how sometimes you did get to say what you wanted, how you did get what you wished for. How you did get a second chance.

It was really quite funny.

Would you believe that all the murder-related books I mentioned are real? Because they are. *shudder*

Anyway, in my mind, it makes sense that since teeechnically doing magic isn't something that's "unique" to Kaito, he wasn't penalized for it. But Shinichi recognized him all the same, just because THE POWER OF LOVE.

...

Um, anyway.

Thanks for sticking around this long! I hope you enjoyed this fic and see you around, my darlings! - Luna