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True peace was something Shinichi rarely found these days.
Sure, he had his original body back and the organization that had tormented him for so long was finally gone, but the damage left behind wasn’t as easily fixed. The nightmares and paranoia were only the beginning. Whether he liked it or not, Conan had changed him. In the almost three years he had spent reliving his childhood, the arrogant ego he used to have had been healthily humbled, he had more friends than ever before (ones that actually took an interest not only in detective work but in becoming detectives themselves), and had a good reputation and relationship with multiple cops, detectives, and inspectors from multiple different prefectures.
Conan had connections.
Conan had familiarity.
Conan had a life.
Shinichi didn’t.
Returning to his original form after all that time had basically been like starting over. Again. He had been nineteen by the time he had returned, and by that time all the people he had known had graduated school and had either gone into the workforce or off to college somewhere. Shinichi himself had only gotten his diploma because his parents had made a deal with the school for him to send in his homework while he was still Conan.
The people he had known, both civilian and non, now didn’t recognize him. Some actually seemed wary of him until he mentioned he was Conan’s cousin. But none of them had the same comfortable connection to him they had once had. When they spoke of Conan, it was all glowing adoration and praise. When they spoke to Shinichi, it was with cautious respect.
Even Ran got a distant look in her eyes when she spoke about the boy. And she knew Shinichi had been that boy.
So, in the end, he had gotten what he wanted but lost far more than he had expected.
He sighed.
Long fingers stroked his hair.
Pulling himself out of his depressing thoughts, he pressed his face into the warm skin of his partner’s neck. The hand in his hair slid down his neck to circle around his back and pull him tighter into the solid chest under him. Breathing in the warm, vanilla sugar scent that was fully Kaito, Shinichi centered himself. There was no point in dwelling on things that he couldn’t change. He would much rather focus on the here and now. The here and now being sitting sideways in Kaito’s lap, left side leaning on the magician’s chest, head resting on the man’s right shoulder. A moment of peace.
“I’m okay,” Shinichi whispered.
In an uncharacteristic moment of seriousness, Kaito said softly, “It’s okay for you not to be, you know.”
Shinichi sighed again, “I don’t want to be not okay anymore.”
“I know,” Kaito said, “ but what happened to us isn’t going to go away just because we want it to.”
Shinichi lifted his head up slightly to get a better look at the ex-thief’s face. Tension clung to the corners of his normally shining indigo eyes, and his mouth was pressed in a thin line. Shinichi’s stomach clenched. Kaito wasn’t supposed to hurt. The Magician under the Moonlight was magic. He was the epitome of joy and mischief and light in a world of darkness. But he was also right. None of them had escaped being tainted by the battle with the organization, and that taint wasn’t going to go away just because he wanted it to. He pressed a kiss to Kaito’s cheek.
Kaito blinked out of his own dark thoughts and turned toward Shinichi. The detective took the opportunity to press their lips together.
The tension slowly drained out of Kaito’s body as he leaned into the kiss.
Lazily making out, Kaito carefully tipped Shinichi backward and lowered his detective to the couch. It took a bit of creative maneuvering for Kaito to settle between Shinichi’s legs. When he did though, both boys let out a sigh of relief. Though he would never admit it to anyone, Shinichi felt safe with Kaito’s weight pressing down on him, pinning him, protecting him. And though Kaito had never said, Shinichi knew that the ex-thief felt relief at having Shinichi warm and solid and alive under him. His own body acting as a barrier between the detective and the things that harmed him.
Their love was a warm blanket that wrapped around them in a tight embrace. A rock that had held them steady when their worlds had come crashing down around them. Their love has been birthed from the ashes of their past lives: melted down and forged in fire and explosions and a hail of bullets until it was stronger than any substance known to man. Kaito’s hip has been shattered by Chianti, crushing his dreams of ever becoming the magician he always wanted to be. Shinichi’s heart has been irreparably damaged by constantly shifting back and forth between his own body and Conan’s to the point where too much strenuous activity could be fatal.
And yet they persevered.
Kaito had received the best medical treatment and a new hip, courtesy of the many, many Kaitou KID fans who were angered that their hero had been so gravely injured. With Kaito’s identity unmasked, he would never be able to go back to grand heists, and with Pandora blown to bits from the explosion of the Black Organization’s headquarters, there was no need to. The guilt ate at him though. Like Shinichi, Kaito was never one to accept charity. So he worked hard and pushed through rehab quickly in order to return to the stage and his fans. His shows were smaller now and with a lot less acrobatics, but they were still incredible.
And all legal.
And with Sonoko and Jirokichi’s sponsorship, he was able to set up a small school in Shinichi’s house that allowed aspiring magicians to learn under him.
Sonoko, of course, had been his first student.
After a lot of denial and lashing out at his new lot in life, Shinichi had taken a page out of Kaito’s book and set up a consulting agency in his house. Though it had taken some time to come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t chase the criminals anymore, he was slowly starting to find peace in simply helping others catch them.
Of course, it helped that, after going after a drug dealer and landing himself back in the hospital, Kogoro had barged into his house and given him the dressing down of his life. Seeing the man he used to make fun of worried to the point of anger over him, something finally clicked for Shinichi, and he allowed himself to finally begin healing. He began reconnecting with the people he had pushed away after his diagnosis and discovered that, though things were different between them now that he wasn’t three feet tall, a lot more people had been worried about him than he originally thought.
And so he set up his consulting agency.
And Kogoro had been his first client.
The old man had, of course, played it off like a famous detective coming to check out the competition, but considering he had brought Ran, Eri, Agasa, and most of Division One along with more food than would actually fit in his fridge, the weak excuse didn’t hold much weight.
But the gesture had helped ease the pain.
It wasn’t perfect, and both Kaito and Shinichi still had bouts of depression, but each day that passed healed them a little more.
There was a gentle smacking sound as Kaito pulled their lips apart. He brushed his nose against Shinichi’s.
“Meitantei.”
Shinichi smiled adoringly as the word was breathed over his lips. It was said with such reverence that if Shinichi hadn’t been…well, Shinichi, he would have cried.
Bringing his hand up to slide under the hem of his lover’s shirt and up the warm expanse of warm yet scarred skin, Shinichi echoed his own love into Kaito’s ear.
“Stupid thief.”
Kaito chuckled. Then he relaxed fully onto Shinichi. He made sure to tuck himself mostly into Shinichi’s left side. Partially to keep himself from putting his full weight directly on the other boy’s chest and partially to avoid putting too much pressure on his bad hip.
The two settled in, dark thoughts forgotten as they basked in simple being with each other.
The peace wouldn’t last. It never did. But, for now, it was enough.