A/N1:

Rated for potentially disturbing imagery.

Not sure about warnings but if you prefer that I add something, please tell me.

Spider is an anime-only character in Magic Kaito.

She was supposed to be waiting before his house.

Shinichi couldn't make out the shape of the Kudo Mansion behind her; only the chiaroscuros of skeletal trees, soaring tall into the obscurity of a starless midnight sky. He couldn't remember why he had left her waiting here, either. There was a reason - there always was - but he didn't think it was a very good one.

"You're late," Ran said. She didn't look impatient. Just sad.

He hunched over, palms sweaty against his knees as he panted from the exertion.

Sorry, he tried to say.

He knew the gunshot rather than heard it - could almost see the clean trajectory of the shot slicing through the frigid air. She toppled forward without a sound, sinking, a weightless thing swallowed whole by the rippling fog around them. Her outstretched hand phased through his own when he tried to catch her; she didn't seem real at all, but he couldn't have cared less.

He looked around, numb, instinct and not intention that made him reach for one wrist with the other. Gin's eyes glinted beneath a cold flash of platinum as it caught the light, his mouth slashing into a smile. The triggered dart dissolved through his neck; hit nothing and did nothing, like it was simply passing through a cloud of smoke and shadows.

Smoke and shadows - that was what that ghost was made of, untouchable, like everything else he stood for. He finished the kill and faded without another moment wasted, long coat and body and face eaten by the midnight mist until only the deranged grin remained - the disassembled part the only proof he was ever here. There must have been something in that Cheshire smile, so tainted that even darkness itself had found need to spit it out.

Shinichi knelt down, hands moving to press against her wound, still moving on automaton. The blood simply crept past, silent and phantom and intangible like the rest of her. He waited for the grief to hit. Like the fear which was missing when he saw the smile, it didn't. He waited for something - anything at all to come, to happen, and felt nothing. He closed his eyes.

"Wake up," said the White Rabbit, face looming before his own and monocle shining with a silvery light under the blue satin bow about his ears. His pocketwatch was missing. "You have to wake up."

He tried to. The world spinned violently, a top careening out of control. A dull throb was pitching into his temples like twin jackhammers, and his head felt heavy, too-full, as if it was slewing through muddy water and not air.

Wake up. Wake up wake up wake up. Distant and disjointed and irritatingly persistent. Prehistoric meganeura hovered in the horizons of the magenta sky, phantom hum ringing in accompaniment with that litany, ready to swoop down and prey at the first sign of weakness. He stared up at them and waited, not knowing what he was waiting for, but they sailed on in the wind on gossamery double wings, oblivious to the happenings beneath.

The fog had retreated enough to make out their surroundings. He was standing at the entrance of a birchwood tree-house, and the forest sprawled out in gigantic slabs of blue-grey beneath them, its harsh colors tempered by tiny clusters of honey orange flowers speckled amidst the leaves.

The ground was shaking. Or rather, he was. Something had seized him by the shoulders to rock him back and forth, the repetitive motion shaking him out of the stupor at the sight.

"Wake up!" And a demand just as grating.

Shinichi shook his head in resigned disappointment. "Wrong," he said.

"Come on," the White Rabbit insisted, frantic.

"You're supposed to say I'm late," Shinichi told him, taking pity. Gunshot still reverberating in his ears and the warmth of her life creeping out under his too-small hands, a smile wan and forgiving and deathly still like the sickle moon hanging low in the alien sky. You're late. And now the Rabbit had lost his pocketwatch again. He needed to find a replacement.

You're late you're late you're late. Somewhere nearby, a broken metronome chanted gleefully in reply. Time didn't work the way it should in this dimension, to-bes and could-have-beens and maybes all tangled together in vivid reality.

You're -

"Ugh, just shut up already." Shinichi said.

"Listen," the White Rabbit said urgently. "What you are seeing - whatever you're seeing - isn't real. Do you understand?"

A loud trumpeting noise broke through the mythical background hum of the forest. Below their treehouse, a panda with tiny cherubic wings galloped by with a trumpet. It gave a loud, playful toot before vanishing out of sight. Shinichi gave it a blank stare.

"That," he muttered irritably, "is obvious."

"Good," said the anthropomorphic Rabbit, running a gloved hand nervously past his felt ears. They looked as badly rumpled as the rest of his suit. "You're annoyed. That's - that's good."

Shinichi opened his mouth automatically to refute that with him, that was the norm. But then he remembered that they did not actually know each other, and it was probably kind of rude to tell strangers that they regularly annoyed you.

A dreamy melody with indecipherable lyrics drifted into hearing range, rolling on with oblivious enthusiasm. It took a third chorus for him to realize it's coming from somewhere on himself. He tried to fish out the source.

"You...might want to pick that up?" the White Rabbit suggested.

Shinichi gave the merrily caroling seashell in his palm a dubious look, before deciding that whatever the thing thought it was doing, it was doing a very poor job of being a seashell.

And he really didn't need risking something unsavory crawling out of it.

One of the dark ridges on the beautifully patterned exterior gave way under his fingers. It went blessedly silent at once. He shook his head and set it down gingerly at what he deemed to be a safe distance.

"Am I dreaming?" He asked instead, recalling the ending. They weren't there yet, though. They hadn't even gone through that part. At this rate, they were never going to make it in time.

"You're hallucinating. I'm not sure if it's drugs or hypnosis or - knowing him, probably just the latter - but your threshold is lower and you've been under for at least five minutes -"

"Huh," Shinichi said in dull acknowledgement.

Hallucination...made a lot of sense, actually.

"I don't know what you're seeing now or what you'll be seeing next," the Rabbit said, with an increasing note of distress, "but you have to wake up. It's not real."

It was real, he knew. But Miyano Akemi wasn't dying. She had been dying then, but not now (was dead wasn't dying yet wasn't dying at all); she had made his peace with him and he'd accepted it, had realized that there was nothing else he could do (you're late). And Shinichi hadn't lived for this long despite every ridiculous stunt he pulled by lying back and wallowing in his regrets (you're late you're late you're late) -

Survival instinct kicked in at last.

"How do I snap out of it?"

"He's gone, the machine's broken, it should have worn off by now - I don't know what's different this time -"

"Then do something to snap me out of it."

"Cold water," said the White Rabbit with a visible start. "Cold water worked for Hakuba...I can't get a firehose from here, can you - "

"Rain."

"What?"

The faint idea tugged insistently at the back of his mind. He could feel the momentary clarity that lent him control over his words slip away, even as the idea tried to take hold.

"Rain," Shinichi attempted again, frustrated. He didn't know how that idea came to him or stood out as clearly as it did, right then - but in some distorted, roundabout way, it must have appealed to a backstage logic, placed there by years and years of routine observation and thinking. "Ryoma," he tried again, the name he was searching for still not forthcoming. He didn't think it was supposed to be about animals.

Even though animals were nice.

He liked animals.

Rain. Ryoma. Ryoma. Rain. Did they rhyme? Maybe he could make a song out of that. It's a pity he couldn't sing very well.

"I," The White Rabbit ground his teeth together in frustration. "I - oh."

He ran his fingers through the white suit jacket, retrieving a cylinder kaleidoscope from it. Shinichi watched with a disconnected curiosity as the Rabbit lifted it before his mouth, and blew. Iridescent bubbles floated out of the other end with a string of giggles and drifted away from them, going up, up, up into the hazy sky, which now appeared to be far lower than it was at first glance. Was the sky falling down on them? He would rather it didn't. Charcoal clouds rolled and parted above them at the invitation, and at last, rain showered down, drops sparkling like splintered diamonds in free fall as they caught the light.

A languid memory surfaced at that. There was the time Dad had tried to slip him a cosmo last summer. He hadn't been of age then, though the fact hadn't stopped him from firing a handgun or driving all manners of vehicles he was never licensed for, and compared to those, an alcoholic beverage was probably the least of their concerns. The color and consistency reminded him of it. He darted out his tongue, trying to catch some of the falling liquid.

It tasted like...ice water. Which was kind of disappointing. Maybe he was dreaming, after all, and his taste had gone on strike while he was at it. But if he tried to wake up that berry-tinted rain would be gone, and he wouldn't get to taste anything either. An interesting dilemma. He sat down and worried his hand over his chin, trying to think of a solution. He came up with none.

The White Rabbit scrunched up his nose at him. The starched colors he was wearing were twisting and blurring, blending into the crimson-gold mist sprinkling down on them. With some envy, Shinichi wondered if the Rabbit could taste that rain. Probably. He seemed like he belonged here more than Shinichi did.

"Your fur's melting," Shinichi told him politely, in a tone one could maybe use to remind a casual friend about an embarrassing choice of apparel without getting struck off the party guest list. He had the feeling that he should be more concerned, or at least sound more concerned, but he was also fairly convinced that there was a master switch of some sort for that sentiment somewhere deep in his psyche, and right then, it was superglued shut.

"I...don't know what you are seeing, and now I don't really want to know," the White Rabbit muttered after a beat, in a dazed, dissonant sort of voice. "Oh, god. Your friend is going to kirioroshi my face for this."

"Hattori doesn't use kendo to hurt animals," Shinichi informed him generously.

"Hardy-har-har. You're hilarious," deadpanned the White Rabbit, with a lifeless humor that sounded a lot like he was already seeing the light past the tightening noose of his gallows.

The potent scent of alcohol was what hit first.

Then the scenery started peeling away, right before his eyes, elements emerging into shape one after another in coagulated, dream-like blobs of colors: the nocturnal cityscape, looming before them through the huge floor-to-ceiling window; the soft bristles of the carpet he was seated on; the automatic fire sprinkler system still pelting down on them.

And the person - definitely as human as himself - half-kneeling before him.

"...Kaitou Kid."

The look of stark relief he received in response would have been comical if it hadn't seemed so genuine.

If his limbs were actually obeying him at the moment, he'd have given in to the temptation of kicking himself for not realizing it sooner. Even if the circumstances were...arguably more forgivable than most, even by his own standards.

Paralysis wearing off at last, he screwed his eyes shut and scrubbed a hand across his face. The water was freezing to the bone, but he had no intention of moving. He's set on the opinion that the brilliant whirl of sparks exploding behind his eyes as his faculties kicked into power again was more than enough to make up for it.

Kid seemed to believe differently, however, since he proceeded to tug him out from under the brunt of the falling water without another moment's delay. He turned through his numerous pockets again - presumably in search for a towel or something similar - only managed to turn up with a handkerchief, and offered it to him with a sheepish look. Shinichi took off his glasses and cleaned the lenses with a habitual, meticulous motion.

It earned him a look of chagrin. He took another moment to realize that it was because he was expected to do something else with it, and not because Kid couldn't do the same with that monocle of his.

The sound of spinning rotors in the background amplified to a mad whirl, right then. Searchlight from one of the police helicopters blasted through the window behind Kid, casting both of them in plain view of the pilot - and wearing on his frayed senses further.

Shinichi rolled over and flung an arm over his eyes with a flat groan.

"Kill it," he ordered imperiously.

"Um," said Kid, the equivocal sound shaped like a small, timid gopher poking its snout out of the den to sniff suspiciously at the air. "That's...an AgustaWestland?"

"I know. I don't care."

Catapulting a light fixture at this one might be...an even worse idea than the last time he pulled that, though. He sat up again with monumental effort, replaced his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and grumpily resigned himself to the fact that nothing useful could be done about the flying pestilence. Either of them.

"You okay?" Kid asked, with an air that resembled a drowned rat far more closely than an internationally renowned criminal. He shook his head abruptly, letting out a swift rush of breath. "Look - I'm really sorry about this. I tried to keep you two out of this, but you just had to track me instead of going down the false trail, didn't you - "

"Well, what were you expecting when you were being so obvious?" Shinichi retorted. And regretted it, because right then it sounded a lot more like a blame than a retort, and not only was Kid very clearly taking it as the former, he seemed to be taking it to heart.

Something else occurred to him with that realization.

"Were you hit by the same thing when you came in?"

Kid ran both hands through the dark mess of damp hair clinging to his scalp. He shot a wary sidelong glance at the watching aircraft, already swiftly retreating to a higher altitude - presumably readying its allies to rain down hellfire of another kind on him soon.

He didn't seem to have any intention of leaving, though. At least as of yet.

"That obvious, huh?" he said.

"You were panicking the entire time," Shinichi said bluntly. Kid could do enough beating around the bush for both of them.

"I wasn't panicking - just concerned." Kid infused the reply with a sincere note that had Shinichi remembering that he could lie, and not just by wearing a different face or pitching another's voice. He could lie with all the crinkles around the eyes and softness in the tones and nervous little gestures he wanted them to see - every element which everyday people would associate with honesty.

It made him dangerous - at times, perhaps as much to himself as to others - in a way few could have come to associate with all those flashy tricks and glamors.

"You were seriously slow to the uptake, at the very least." Shinichi flicked his chin upwards sharply in emphasis of his point, sending small droplets of water flying from his hair. He gave it a harder shake, wincing as some of the hair whipped into his face. "You wouldn't have needed me to remind you otherwise."

Kid frowned. "I do owe you for this one, so - yes. You're right."

He didn't argue further about it, or even sound defensive, which was somewhat unexpected. It made the newest addition to the tiny list of things that had ever toted him up by a notch or two in Shinichi's ledger for sensibility - not that it wasn't always mired in bankruptcy for this particular client, as far as reasonable projection went.

"These illusions tap into fear in the psyche, or at least, that's as far as I'm aware of. I might have thought of the solution if it hadn't seemed so..." He paused, deft hands flighting before him like nervous birds with lives of their own as he searched for a descriptive - "...Counterintuitive."

"What does that mean?"

The doves stilled. "Contrary to intuition, explanation, or common sense."

Shinichi dropped the line of inquiry without protest, mostly because he hadn't been expecting a straight answer in the first place. As deflections went, he could recognize when a door was closed and when it was security bolted shut - though with whom he was talking to, that might not be the best allegory.

"I know what was happening. This isn't the first time for me," Kid went on. "You seemed like you had it worse."

"It's...not that bad for me," Shinichi said, after a moment's contemplation. "Mostly fantastical."

That hadn't been a baseless platitude. It wasn't pleasant, sure, but he's had nightmares a lot worse than that.

Kid's slim eyebrows seemed ready to break free of his face and roost atop the brim of his hat. "Fantastical?" He asked dubiously.

"Alice in Wonderland-esque, if a closer adjective is what you're looking for. Substitution with familiar or less threatening elements by the subconscious. It's a defense mechanism. I doubt it's replicable, though. I mean - it's not that being forced to rehearse the same trite play for four dozen times in the past week doesn't...still do unspeakable things to the soul, but at least I can see an upside to it now."

He'd sooner throw himself through the fire escape window than admit to the part on the monocle-wearing White Rabbit, though.

"I'm not exactly sure what that entailed," said Kid slowly. "But I take that it means I should send a cake to your minions. A triple-layer one. Almond cherry or carrot pineapple?"

"Generous of you, but I'd be satisfied with some direct answers," Shinichi said, dry, though not insincere. "So. Old enemy of yours?"

Kid held up a hand like he was throwing up an invisible force field between them. "No offense, but that's none of your business," he said, everything from tone to posture to context swinging straight to the polar end of his previous statement.

"After what happened tonight?" Incredulity wasn't a pleasant emotion to parade about, so habitually, Shinichi stomped it down - with an already diminished supply of self-control that was dwindling a lot faster than he'd have liked. "You expect me to just forget about it and move on?"

"And I'm sorry to have involved you in this, however unintentional." Kid said, as serious as Shinichi had ever heard from him. "Stay out of this, Tantei-kun. I mean it."

"You sound like -" Shinichi began, unthinking, and only just managed to bite down on the comparison in time without lending suspicion. He didn't need Haibara chewing him out for transgressions against her policies of confidentiality any more than she already did.

(But didn't he know, already, exactly why she acted like -)

(A smile wan and forgiving and deathly still -)

"You've never had any issues poking about in mine," he managed to say, throwing out the first argument that came to mind.

"If you're referring to the Bell Tree Express - no, I don't actually know what you've gotten yourself into. And last I recall, you blackmailed me into helping you for that one," Kid said, rolling his shoulders with far more levity than was perhaps desirable. "That wasn't an accusation, mind you. Terms of free trade and all. I chose my own risks when I went in. In fact, I knew them from the very start. When I decided to dress up like this and throw myself off tall buildings for the hell of it, that was my choice. But as for you - you were just caught in the crossfire tonight."

And had, in fact, ended up dragging his rival deeper into the quicksand of danger than he would have otherwise. Which was part of why this situation grated so immensely. Kid had enough tricks up his arsenal to save his own skin, that much he could be confident of - but it was on the premise that he didn't have to look out for two out of the three factions of pursuers targeting him at the same time.

When put that way, it was kind of difficult not to see his point.

But -

"I'm a detective," Shinichi said, voice pitched low in determination. "I was one, long before you ever acknowledged me as your critic. You've made your choice - as have I."

If he was someone who could simply content with letting things go, he would not be where he was now.

And even at where he was, now, he had never regretted not letting that illegal trade or the force behind it pass him by - unwitnessed, unknown, their victims unavenged - on the day his life was stolen from him. There were others fighting against them, he's come to see - but he would not regret lending his aid on the front of this war. It was not egoistical, to assume that so many would have turned out so much worse, if he had not.

Were there others on Kid's front as well, if any? An assistant, a trusted ally -

(He's known there was more to Kid's purpose - perhaps even before then, when on the moonlit cliff of Koyakejima Kid had turned around and said, without a hint of defeat or discouragement: next time, I'll find the -)

- a friend?

(What exactly was he looking for?)

Kid didn't speak for a long moment in the wake of his statement.

When he did, poker face visibly shredding apart at the seams, it was no longer with gravity, or irritation - but barely concealed anger.

"You want to know why I didn't think, just now -" a cool, deadly edge unsheathing in his voice like a well-tempered blade, a side disturbing not for how out of place it was but how terrifyingly right it looked on him - "what exactly I saw that made starting more fire in here the last thing on my mind -"

The door burst open behind them - not with a crash, but a prolonged, ominous creak. Shinichi whipped his head around, half-expecting more assailants, instinct overriding reason for a second - and then expecting someone from the Task Force to show up before the rest, when it became apparent that there was only one lone silhouette standing in the doorway.

It was neither.

"I take my eyes off you for twenty minutes," Hattori's voice rang out from where he stood in the backlight, bokken levelled in an iron grip before him.

Shinichi stared back at him, momentarily dazed. His eyes fell on the phone resting on the ground at last - still lying innocuously on the soaked carpet, left to the mercy of the spray, all but forgotten about until now. The smooth silicate was so slick with water that it nearly slipped right out of his grip again.

7 missed calls

He winced. And didn't quite manage to stop himself from biting out a defensive "I might have been hallucinating a bit so maybe excuse me for dropping off the radar for a couple of minutes" only to realize the implication after he did -

Hattori turned to Kid.

"What did you do." He said, so calmly that not only was Kid disturbed, so was Shinichi.

Their eyes met for a second. Then - whatever sentiment he was previously holding entirely forgotten - Kid made a mad dive behind Shinichi for cover.

"Uh," Shinichi attempted lamely.

"Get away from him." Hattori advanced on them with all the even-keelness of an almighty glacier intent on crushing an obstinate cruiser in its path.

Kid scrambled backwards in frenzied alarm. In that instant, the jokes about their combined death radar on the First Division gossip column were probably running just as rampantly through his head.

"I didn't do anything!" he protested. "Well - I mean not anything -"

Shinichi could have sworn that the portals to Hell had just opened up in that nondescript door behind Hattori. Dark aura was rolling off him in palpable waves as he marched forth, never pausing, never even slowing, every stride purposeful in a blazing trail with like some fiery angel of vengeance -

Kid let out a sound that could only be described as a terrified shriek. "He said that you don't use kendo to hurt animals!"

Sword still raised and poised in mid-air, Hattori's gaze snapped back to Shinichi for a split second, dark eyebrows jumping up to knit together as if to ask: Is the guy actually serious?

Shinichi shrugged back helplessly. It made sense at the time?

A split second was all it took for the subject in question to be gone. The fire exit door embedded in the oversized window flung outwards with a loud crash. A blur of white shot through it as rushed in through the sudden opening with a demented howl. The next instant, he had disappeared from sight entirely.

Hattori made his way to the open exit in two strides. "He's still in this building."

"The helicopters on the parameters are too close for his glider to fly," Shinichi agreed, with maybe only passable commitment. Kogoro could complain all he liked about the lavish interior design - at least they took their fire safety seriously. "You know that I didn't mean it was him, right?" He added.

Hattori gave a derisive snort. "Trust me, if I thought he was the one who actually did this to you, I'd have done a lot worse than spook him." His eyes narrowed into a glare. "Still, you can't convince me that he knew nothing about it at all."

"And he almost came close to giving a straight answer, too. You still want to go after him?" Shinichi asked, trying not to sound lackluster as he moved on to squeeze out the reticent water out of his sodden clothes. He was hit by a sudden rush of gratitude on realizing where Hattori was standing - between him and the chilly wind pouring through the fire exit, definitely on purpose.

Hattori looked towards the shining cityscape beyond the window their quarry had just sprang through, marred by the multitude of helicopters still lurking above - then back at the (rather pitiful, if he had to guess) sight waiting for his take on the inside of the glass. He looked torn.

But he wasn't torn for very long.

"Guess he's gotten lucky tonight," he decided. "You look knackered, Kudo. I'm getting you back home before Nēchan puts me on a lifelong ban from visiting Beika."

He gave Shinichi a quick pat on the head, to his annoyance. Then he turned his back to him with an expectant look.

"What." Shinichi said slowly, with deliberate obtuseness.

"Hop on."

"No." He crossed his arms. "You're not carrying me."

"What's the big deal?" An infuriating smirk. "It's not like it's the first time."

"I'm not injured." Shinichi got to his feet, ignoring the rush of lightheadedness at the sudden motion. "And you. Are. Not. Carrying me," he said with punctuated emphasis.

The smirk widened. "No need to be shy. I could always put you down before we see her..."

"Shut up." Shinichi glowered.

A stampede of footsteps echoed through the stairwell down the corridor, already late to the denouement of the drama. Hattori shot the doorway an exasperated look. "He got away!" He yelled towards the direction of the commotion.

The first flash of dark uniform appeared through the doorway - which was the precise moment Hattori picked to hoist him over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Put me down!" Shinichi gave a (completely dignified) yelp as they walked past their newly congregated audience, looking on with varying degrees of bemusement at the sight. Bemusement might contain just a bit too much denial in it, though - anyone with an unprejudiced eye would have identified amusement in those curious glances instead.

"Wait a second, we need to check them -" The leader at the front burst out, holding up an arm before them as he signalled to the others.

In swift response, Shinichi pinched at the opposite cheek of the obnoxious face conveniently just within his reach, and tugged it as far as the skin would stretch.

"Owww - Ku-Conan, what the hell?!"

"See!" Shinichi crowed in an innocent voice, with such ruthless relish that anyone with half a mind should have found it deranged instead of disarming - "Heiji-niichan isn't Kid!"

The fact that they were allowed to pass without any further trouble - or far more likely, the fact that between them he was the one who actually looked like a grown teenager in front of some twenty witnesses - was probably the only reason Hattori hadn't struck back with a retaliation of his own. (Okay, Shinichi could admit it was childish, but what did he care, if he must look like this he would never not use it to his advantage -) Having fulfilled their fair share of gaping rights tonight, and having lost interest in the duo, the Task Force on scene finally returned to rallying themselves for a comb through the building.

"You've got a lot of explanation to do, Kudo," Hattori muttered sourly under his breath, face visibly smarting even with his skin tone. "When I suggested we split up, you bet this was not what I had in mind. What have you gotten yourself into again?"

"This isn't the best place -" Shinichi answered automatically, before his brain caught up with the situation again. "How about I give you that explanation once you put me down?"

"Well." Hattori paused, as if in serious consideration of his proposal. Then he gave a flippant one-shouldered shrug. "I guess it could always wait till tomorrow. You're past your bedtime."

It took a tremendous amount of willpower - possibly even more than it did to break out of Wonderland tonight - to resist the burning urge of driving his shoe into his self-appointed carrier. There was always the slim likelihood that he'd end up getting dropped on the head himself, much like certain persons must have been as a child.

At least Kid wasn't around to see them now. Small mercy. Or huge mercy, really.

He wondered what Kid had been about to say before Hattori interrupted. They would never get another occasion like the circumstances driving his honesty tonight again, so if Shinichi wanted to know why -

(Kid probably hadn't forgotten that he still owed those so-called minions a dare, or a truth, but this wasn't how Shinichi wanted to have it.)

- he'd have to find out himself.

(He's kind of regretting not taking up Kid's offer now. A free cake. A triple-layered free cake. Seriously, who in their right mind turns down free cake.)

At the very tail end of the group, a Task Force member with his beret pulled low over his face turned around and gave him a playful wink. Then he disappeared down the other direction of the corridor, quick and silent as a phantom as he melded into the shadows of the labyrinthine walls.

Shinichi paused his ineffectual flail mid-motion.

And didn't feel the least bit guilty when he viciously spurred his heel into Hattori's side.

A/N2:

Random digression: Alice is Dead is my favorite point-and-click game series. Enrapturing storyline, stunning graphics, with an ethereally beautiful leitmotif to boot. Check it out sometime :)