A/N: Ahjasdk, this will be my first actual chaptered story here. TuT;; I'm kind of nervous putting it up since I suck at writing chapters or plot related stuff. -lesighs-;; But anyways yea!

Thanks to my lovely betas for helping me with this! I super appreciate you all! Hope you guys enjoy it! :D

Warnings!: Mentions of Violence. :D

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One

–

"Your face is…" It was a breathless whisper in the library as his hand ghosted over the patch of skin. He swallowed thickly. "You're hurt again."

Shinichi winced, withdrawing away from his hand. The bruise was an ugly clot of purple on the underside of his jaw. Judging by the coldness of his face, the detective had an ice bag on before he came to the library. His wandering hand was lightly pushed away by bandaged fingers.

"I'm fine, okay? I have a paper to finish."

He hesitated slightly and dropped his hands to his side. Pulling on his signature bright smile, he leaned over the detective's shoulder.

Shinichi went rigid as he hovered close, but he ignored him and continued typing. Wordlessly, he peeked at the computer screen. It was a thesis for some kind of class. He wasn't that interested.

"Something happened yesterday at the stakeout, Kudou?"

"There was a thief," Shinichi started, eyes never leaving the screen, and hands tapping at the keyboard in spurts. He paused and then deadpanned.

"He tied me up."

The typing resumed, and his gaze idly fell from the detective's screen to the thin bandaged wrists resting on the keyboard.

"Ah… Is that so…?"

–

my eyes can't see

–

"Another one?" the phone sounded in curiosity. He brought two fingers to his temples to massage away the impending headache.

"Yes. Please send an officer, Megure-keibu. I'm sorry for calling so early in the morning, you must have it rough."

There was laughter bordering the gruff voice. The inspector sounded far too energetic for six in the morning. "Not a problem, Shinichi-kun. As long as the culprit is caught, long hours are worth it."

The phone went dead as his arm fell towards his side. Shinichi idly glanced at the bound and gagged man sitting in front of his door. The rope wound around the criminal's thick mid-section and held his arms tightly behind him. With a dress shoe, the college student nudged the body that shifted and groaned in protest.

With slight difficulty, Shinichi crouched low behind him and gripped his wrist, relieved that he found a steady pulse amidst the almost suffocating ropes. That was good– he didn't want his doorstep to become a grave.

"Hasegawa-san, so we meet again. Glad you're still alive."

The last time Shinichi had seen him was when he re-examined the case files of a week-old triple murder case with a mug-shot messily taped inside– which was when the police deemed him well enough to examine evidence after his stay in the hospital for a very, very minor and shallow slash on his leg due to attempted murder by said man.

Crutches for a few days while the skin healed wasn't that bad. Those clunky metal things never bothered him when he worked around the clock to track the man down. And now after a painful game of cat and mouse, he was here.

Sapphire eyes quickly scanned him.

A few bruises, maybe a twisted something, since that arm did look like it was jutting out wrong– oh, was that blood on his lip? Probably the work of internal bleeding. Well, however injured he was, the man was deposited on his doorstep. There was a slightly bitter twitch at the corner of his mouth. Although Shinichi didn't believe the "eye-for-an-eye" theory, he felt oddly satisfied at the damage done and also a bit upset at the inflictor of these wounds.

"At least you're not dead."

But honestly, this had been the fourth time that it happened. He stood near the criminal until he heard the faint yelp of the police sirens nearby.

After the sound of slamming car doors and clinks of handcuffs, Shinichi bid the officer good night, despite the rising sun, and slowly headed back into the comforts of the Kudou House.

To say that Shinichi was unruffled at being woken up at five by an incessant pounding on his door was an understatement. He was grumpy as hell, but his eyelids wouldn't slide shut for the remaining hours before he headed to school. Shinichi kicked on his fluffy slippers and limped back to the kitchen to brew himself an entire pot of coffee.

Now that he was awake, he couldn't sleep.

Shinichi shuffled to the library and sat with his steaming mug in his hands. He stared absently at the books lining the wall, eyes tracing a path from the top to bottom–

He sipped and rolled the hot liquid on his tongue, mind tracking back on the history of this particular incident.

Fourth time in a span of three months.

The first time it happened was with a serial thief that managed to tie Shinichi down and whack him around a bit until he bruised and slipped into unconsciousness. Within a few days– and a few since Shinichi had a very important thesis to finish for school– the culprit was left severely bruised and wrapped in a net on his front door.

At the time, Shinichi didn't question how he got there or who had the incentive to be a rogue vigilante. Instead, he basked in an extreme sense of satisfaction that swelled in his chest as the police herded the traumatized culprit into the car.

A few weeks later, when Shinichi was walking home from the University Library, he saw and identified the second culprit. The second was a suspect in a case whom Shinichi had finally found evidence to incriminate.

However on that afternoon, he was pinned to a wall, beaten, and had said evidence taken from his bag while he had concrete in his face. Not a day later, Shinichi woke to a yell from the side of his house wall. He peered out the window and took in the flattering amount of duct tape around the mummified suspect. The stolen evidence was taped onto the silver body wrap.

Shinichi began to drop some info about the odd vigilante to the police. Megure-keibu was pleasantly surprised but waved a hand and said that as long as none of the culprits die, it's fine– but there could be serious charges pressed against the offender for attacking a civilian– criminal or not. Shinichi raised a brow when Megure-keibu sauntered away, muttering, "Hope we don't catch him."

The third was not that long ago. Some kind of serial molester. The college detective wasn't that clear on the actual case–since those things tended to disgust him– but he helped the police arrest the offender. Little did he know, the criminal had a partner who, in an enraged fit, attacked Shinichi in the middle of his passing to classes, thoroughly harassed him and left him half-conscious and shaking in a dirty alleyway near the gym.

Somehow, when he became conscious again, he found himself back at home in fresh clothes. He was relieved that he was just a bit tousled and not a victim. He was fine for the most part except he's found himself with a few more scrapes and bruises.

The following night-morning, there was a quiet knock on his window. Upon opening it, he found a small tin can of salve for his bruises and heard the faint sound of a muffled groan.

The man was tied upside down to a tree, nearly naked and shivering in the night's cold and rain– but it wasn't raining, was it? Couple that with a hot pink paint trail scribbled on his body– "DISGUSTING RAPIST" it had said. When Shinichi called the police, Megure-keibu came by, took a look and then snorted.

"What's so funny?" Shinichi had asked– okay, the display was funny as hell, but after a while of watching the man, it turned quickly into pity.

"This style–" The trench-coat inspector waved his hand at the set of water sprinkles that were conveniently placed around the tree– and that Shinichi didn't remember installing. "Nice touch; flashy but nice. It's quite aggressive, wouldn't you say?"

"Keibu, if you haven't noticed this guy nearly has hypothermia–"

"Yes, yes, Shinichi-kun," he said with a sigh but a smile lingered on the side of his mouth. With that same lopsided grin, he told his men to take the man out of his misery. The police he came with sniggered under their breaths while they untied the criminal from the tree.

"Great touch with the sprinklers, I wouldn't have done it better–"

"Considering that it was him, you can't do better–"

Shinichi had caught bits and pieces of their conversation, but never questioned who they were actually talking about.

Instead, he was preoccupied with how calm Megure-keibu was. Although the man was indeed a molester (and had his share in ruffling Shinichi a bit), this little prank had gone too far. Shinichi vocally disapproved of the vigilante and his extreme measures of tying the criminal to the tree. But the police officers only kept their mouths shut and snorted through their noses.

And this time– this fourth time– Megure-keibu was curious and amused, maybe a tad bit disappointed since he wasn't able to come over and escort the man personally. But all in all, it was something that the inspector should not be sounding like.

Shinichi curled into his seat and wiggled his cold toes experimentally.

Well, whatever the case, this vigilante who has had amused nearly the entire police force– sans him of course– was slowly starting to irritate him– and maybe pique his interest, but irritate him more like. In Shinichi's book, this vigilante was insulting the official justice (and him) in Japan. The police (and him) were fully capable of capturing the criminals. This was mockery and the police down at the station didn't even have half the mind to be as offended as he was–

The grandfather clock situated in his hall chimed seven and with a groan, Shinichi pulled himself up and away from the plush armchair. Right, he forgot that he had some classes to go to in the early morning. And afterwards, he had to compare English notes with his half-British acquaintance.

He stood up and stretched, hearing the satisfying but loud pops and clicks in his back.

He wobbled slightly. His leg was still somewhat sensitive to the strain since it was still healing, but it was nothing life-threatening. Shinichi seriously didn't understand why everyone was making a fuss for him to stay in the hospital and then use crutches after he was released.

Shinichi brought a hand to hold the side of his face. Bandages that held his skin together dotted on his forehead and the underside of his jaw.

He had another violent run-in just the day before. Shinichi was always prone to waltzing into trouble and this was one of the many times he was beaten senseless for trying to stop a criminal single-handedly– sure, he was man enough to defend himself, but it was just that at the moment there lacked a round object that could serve as his choice of weapon.

And so, more times than not, he found himself face first on the ground. And as Ran put it, she was surprised that after so many beatings, he still maintained a fairly attractive face– some even think the bandages added a whole new level of coolness to his image.

He took a step and nearly forgot that he couldn't put all his weight on the injured foot– shit, what the hell is this. He would've collapsed if his hand hadn't grappled the chair for support. His leg was screaming pain– oh, okay, maybe it wasn't such a great idea to provoke the guy yesterday in throwing a chair at him.

(He barely dodged the flying chair, but it pulled the recovering muscles in his leg. Which sort of sucked since he couldn't really walk properly.)

Shinichi mentally chided himself and proceeded to shuffle towards the bathroom.

After a daze of reflecting the past few months, he had found himself sitting at the front step before his door, slipping on his shoes with an aching slowness that only the pain in his muscles caused.

Today will be another one of those days…

–

"You look terrible as always."

There was a slight cringe on Shinichi's part before he wrapped his hands around the warm paper coffee cup.

"Kinda accidentally bumped into a hostage situation yesterday–"

"So I've heard. And you just got off the crutches not too long ago." There was a sigh in front of him and a clink of a porcelain teacup against a dish.

"Kudou, you sort of don't just bump into these things." His acquaintance lifted a fine brow with something like a light snort. "As detectives, we trust logic and science, but I really suggest that you ask Koizumi to lift that curse on you."

"Haha, that's really funny, Hakuba." Shinichi's lips twisted into a smile for a brief moment as his fingers went to trace the rim of the rectangular table. "Could be a curse, or maybe Lady Luck just hates me."

"But her husband loves you," the blond detective muttered under his breath, as his hand idly tapped the porcelain cup handle. Shinichi's ears perked at his strange utterance and he stared at his colleague for a while, blinking curiously.

"Eh–?"

The blond leaned back casually in his seat and coughed once. His hand tapped rhythms against the cup. "So, what leads did you get on the criminal?"

"Not much…" Shinichi distractedly looked in the direction of the cashier in the coffee shop. It was embarrassing to admit his inability to apprehend the suspect. The criminal was right there in front of him when he was locked in the room with the other hostages. "I couldn't confirm the evidence. He escaped after… you know, leaving me half for dead."

"I thought as much." Hakuba had this knowing tilt of his head as he nodded, eyes shut in a sage-like manner. "Mm, then we can expect a present tomorrow–"

"Doesn't it piss you off, Hakuba?" the detective suddenly snapped, hand almost slamming the half-empty paper cup onto the table. Hakuba gave him an incredulous look. "I mean, don't you think what he's doing is just humiliating us as detectives?"

The young adult pinched his chin with his fingers, scarlet-brown eyes rolling up to examine the ceiling light. "Well, my door isn't the drop off point for these gifts, so I'll say– no."

Hakuba gave him a polite smile that Shinichi returned with an annoyed glare.

With analytical eyes, the half-British studied Shinichi's ruffled expression before he sighed dramatically. "I've heard that you were dense, but really?"

"What?" It was a sharp snap with curiosity underlining it. Shinichi's hand was now fidgeting with the cup, and his fingers were seriously itching to choke that bastard who had that disappointed look on his face for some goddamn reason–

"Kudou, it's as plain as day, the whole task force knows, even Megure-keibu knows–"

"What?"

Hakuba shrugged as he took a delicate sip of his tea. "Why your valiant vigilante is doing the things he is doing–"

Shinichi glared. Besides humiliating the police and him– since Shinichi was completely and perfectly competent in apprehending criminals– the vigilante didn't seem to have any other good reason for capturing his criminals and leaving them in outrageous and cruel positions on his doorstep.

"Would you care to enlighten me, Hakuba-tantei?" Shinichi hissed, thoroughly annoyed. Hakuba gave one of those conceited and conniving smirks before he tapped his pocket watch with a finger.

"Can't. I'm afraid I have a meeting down at the headquarters." The detective pulled his scattered notes together and stood up from the café table. He started shoveling his papers into a folder and then into a briefcase. Shinichi curiously watched him pack away his papers–

"Meeting?"

"About the hostage situation that you were tied up in yesterday. I was emailed the details just this morning. Megure-keibu wants me to help out with the stakeout. We found where he's hiding–"

"And I wasn't informed of this?" Shinichi asked, offended and half-rising out from his chair. The abandoned teacup clattered when Shinichi's knee hit the table. He was half choking on his words and from the tingle in his leg– "I was on the team–"

"And when they took you home– you were half-dead, mind you– everyone agreed to remove you from the investigation," Hakuba continued professionally. He pocketed his watch into his suit. "Your leg was their main concern. They needed someone who was more physically capable, so that what happened yesterday wouldn't repeat."

Shinichi wordlessly stared as Hakuba snapped the pack shut with a finalized click. The blond lifted his eyes to meet his wide and disbelieving gaze.

An apologetic– but not really– smile lifted his lips. "Please don't take offense, Kudou. If the culprit sees you again, who knows what he'll do to get revenge on you. It's only a matter of precaution that we have you off the team–"

He found his voice again, but it came out quiet. "Revenge? But I didn't–"

"He has a personal grudge on you, Kudou." Hakuba gave a light smile before he turned to leave. "You really would want to stay out of trouble. Perhaps pray for a guardian angel to watch over you until we close the case."

There was something in the way he smiled, like he knew something Shinichi didn't, and Shinichi hated it.

The stupid blond was spiting him.

With a sudden stab in his chest, he downed the last mouthful of coffee and grabbed his backpack to head toward the library.

–

A/N: Ugu. TuT Hope this is okay. -rolls everywhere and off;;;-

Ohright.

Should I say that Shinichi gets beaten up a lot? yeah. 8D Shhh don't run away guys. If anything I can promise a happy ending, yes. 8D;;;