Fandom: Detective Conan
Publish Date: 9/24/2005
Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan. But I do have homemade hand-puppets for each character...that's normal, right?
Nakamori-keibu was very good at glaring.
He glared at his co-workers, he glared at his subordinates, he glared at the frequent riddle notes dropped into his office with that awful caricature penned on the bottom, he glared at the Annoying Hakuba Kid Who Wouldn’t Go the Hell Away, he glared at Kaito Who Was Getting Way Too Cozy With His Daughter, and he even occasionally glared at Aoko…but not often. She glared right back, and her glare was far more powerful than his.
But most frequently, his glares were leveled at one particularly annoying Phantom Thief known more commonly as Kaitou Kid. The mysterious man in white, his prey for more years than he wished to recount or admit to.
At the moment, said Phantom Thief had just managed to evade capture yet again, slipping out of the way of the Taskforce’s most classic and well-practiced maneuver, Doggie-Pile on the Bandit. Laughing merrily, he swept out of the room through an upper window, that evening’s prized clutched possessively in his white-gloved hand.
So Nakamori-keibu glared. He was very good at that.
But he was also upstairs in the museum, looking down on the actual theft. He knew that thief would go up. Kaitou Kid was well-known to have an affinity for high places. After all, no one sane or afraid of heights would merrily jump off a skyscraper.
And he followed, sprinting up the stairs in record time. In under a minute, the door to the roof loomed ahead of him. It was not locked, and he exploded through the door, not really expecting to see anyone. Chances were that Kid had already taken off and was long gone, having gotten away with yet another perfect heist…
He skidded to a halt, feet grinding noisily against the rooftop.
And he stared at the stark pillar of white that stood on the edge of the roof. Kaitou Kid was standing stone still on the knee-high ridge that ran around the roof’s perimeter, his toes right on the edge. The gentle night breeze stirred a white cape seemed to glow in the moonlight, illuminating him against the darkness of the night sky. For that moment, he truly appeared a ghost, the phantom that was his namesake.
As the Inspector watched (and glared—he was very good at that), he realized that Kid had stopped on the edge of the roof. The thief was holding that night’s heist—an enormous, gaudy ruby—up to the light of the moon and studied it for a moment. Then he sighed and shook his head before lowering his arm to his side and his gaze to the panorama of city below.
It was beautiful, lit up for the evening. The cry of voices carried even up this high—of police officers hollering to each other, of Kaitou Kid fans awaiting their idol’s escape and demanding that he dazzle them in the process, and of just random passers-by on their way about their business. Helicopter blades echoed a short distance away, coming to join the chase.
And for whatever reason, Nakamori didn’t even think to pull out handcuffs or call out an arrest warning or even swear. They stood there, completely still for long enough that one would almost think it was a painting, merely a photograph of two people, one staring at the other’s back.
And then Kid turned and smiled calmly at his longtime opponent. “Good evening, Nakamori-keibu.” He seemed amused at the Inspector’s pursuit. “A pleasure seeing you here. Lovely night, isn’t it?”
Nakamori-keibu glared. He was very good at that.
The object of his glare watched him right back with that impassive smile on his smug face. The inspector wished desperately to wipe that smile right off, but instead settled for angrily clenching his fists and muttering various phrases under his breath, said phrases not suitable for the ears (or eyes, as it were) of anyone under the age of one hundred…and fifty.
“Well, Nakamori-keibu, much as I have enjoyed our games this evening, I must be off,” Kid’s smooth tenor carried easily across the gap between them; he touched gloved fingers to the brim of his hat and executed a courtly bow as he turned to leave.
Though he would have rather had his tongue nailed to a table than admit it, Nakamori knew that there was really no way to catch the thief now. He was alone, and Kaitou Kid had far too many tricks up his sleeve. But instead, he called out to his greatest adversary. “Wait.”
To his open amazement, the figure in white paused.
He hesitated, then decided to bite the bullet and ask the Dangerous Question. “Why? Why do you steal? Why do you do this? And why all the stupid $& show, anyway?” Okay, so he wasn’t totally in shock. But that was standard Nakamori for you—glaring and swearing, his two greatest skills.
There was a long moment of stillness before Kid turned back to face him fully, his face shadowed by his hat brim and the infamous monocle, triangle charm a-swinging with his movements. “You want to understand, Keibu-san?”
Nakamori was silent.
Kid was unusually quiet as well. But when he spoke again, his voice was low and level, and held a note of something that he’d never before heard from the illustrious thief. “I’m going to ask you a question. I only ask because I know you well enough to know you will answer honestly.”
Nakamori-keibu glared. He was very good at that.
But he listened.
“Keibu-san, Kid got away again,” one of the Taskforce members said, rattling off some details and things. But Nakamori wasn’t listening—his mind was far, far away, on Planet Elsewhere.
In the sky, far beyond their reach, Kaitou Kid, Criminal 1412, was flying away. After his brief conversation with the Inspector, he had simply stepped off the building, deploying his glider within seconds and simply zooming off towards the stars, leaving Nakamori behind on the roof to think something over.
The officers pointed at the tiny white dot disappearing into the distant sky; soon, he would seem nothing more than another star, a mere point of light. Their elusive quarry had gotten away again, leaving them behind to clean up the mess. They all frowned; some even cursed.
And Nakamori-keibu glared. He was very good at that.
Even if he didn’t really mean it at that moment…
“Who would you say is the most important person in your life?” Kid asked softly.
“My daughter,” the Inspector answered immediately. In spite of their less-than-conventional relationship—predator and prey, as it were—he held a certain amount of wary trust for the thief whose first rule was that No One Gets Hurt. And his curiosity was killing him. Thus, he answered honestly.
Kid nodded. “I knew you would say that. Now, if someone took her away from you, what would you do to see justice done?”
“Took her away…”
“Permanently. You’ll never see her again…for whatever reason,” Kid’s voice actually hardened at the hypothetical situation. “Tell me, Keibu-san. How far would you go?”
It wasn’t anything Nakamori even had to think about. “All the way. No questions asked.”
The smile that crossed Kid’s face then was not his normal smirk; it was far more enigmatic, mysterious as the full moon. “Then, Nakamori-keibu,” he said, a bare whisper, “you understand.”