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It's silent when Kaito gets home after school.
It's silent when he wakes up in the morning.
It's silent when KID comes back home after midnight.
It's silent when he folds the white suit away and says goodnight.
He exhales half of his lung's air content before he speaks.
"Alright, what's this all about."
Aoko, sitting directly across from him, keeps on sipping on her coffee while looking somewhat embarrassed.
They're currently at a cafe not far from school, a small place with a warm atmosphere and prices they can afford. It was Aoko's idea to come here after classes ended, to "hang out for a bit". Kaito couldn't find it in himself to disagree with the idea; now, he endures the silence before she puts enough words together in her head to answer him, notably avoiding looking at his face. Staring right behind it, actually, at some point over his shoulder. He's almost tempted to turn around.
He crosses his ankles instead.
"Aoko..." she starts, pauses, then inhales again, "Aoko noticed you haven't been spending as much time with her, recently. Not as much as usual." She twirls the spoon in her cup around and stares into the liquid. "Aoko's just been wondering about that. Did... did something happen?"
How to even begin!
She knows about the heist he pulled off two, or maybe it was three, nights ago — doesn't know about the bruises still blooming on his legs and arms, doesn't know it was him. She's noticed how it takes just a tad too long for him to answer when she calls his name — hasn't seen how his smile drops when she's not looking, how he drags his legs when she walks ahead. She walked him to his house, yesterday — doesn't know just how much he can't stand the silence of it—
He uncrosses his ankles. Decides he liked them better crossed. Undoes his action. Switches them around.
(Don't let her worry, she can't worry, worry is the precursor to curiosity—)
"It's nothing." Kaito grins at her, not fully, but sufficiently. He mirrors the twirling of her spoon with his own, though their drinks aren't the same. "The upcoming exams have been on my mind, is all."
What a load of bullshit.
Aoko frowns slightly, her mouth set in a straight line that wants to do the opposite of a smile but hasn't decided yet if it will go through with it. She doesn't look like she buys it.
Ok, backpedaling time, he can still pull this off nooo problem.
"And I've been trying a new trick but it hasn't been going well at all, so you know it's hard if even I'm struggling, and one of my doves, my youngest one, you've seen her, she got injured recently, had to ban her from flying for a while, and—"
Her right hand is halfway across the table, destination: the hands grasping his own cup, on the verge of too tight, too tight.
He stops speaking.
(Why are you staring at me like that.)
Her hands falls on the table, an outstretched promise of support, were he to take it.
"Aoko knows she... she can be mean, sometimes. But you know Aoko's here for you, right? That you can tell her if something's bothering you?" Her eyes finally meet his face, searching his expression for something they won't find, not when the poker face is in full effect.
Nothing's bothering him, nothing at all! Least of all huge empty houses he fills on his own, and how he has to cook for himself damn near always, and how nobody tells him welcome back when he opens the door, and how Jii-chan sometimes helps but KID still pulls off most heists alone, but he's not- he's not-
The cup doesn't shatter. His hands stay firmly on it.
"Thank you, Aoko," Kaito says with all the sincerity he can muster up. "But I'm fine, really. You don't have to worry."
He downs the rest of his drink before he can say another word and burns his mouth with it, makes the exact amount of money it cost appear besides the cup, and gets ready to leave in short order. She doesn't stand up after him, but her gaze weighs heavy on his back, a silent plea and resignation at once.
The bell of the door closing behind him is pleasant.
The rain that greets him isn't.
This time it's inspector Nakamori walking him home for some reason, chatting about everything and nothing at an almost leisurely pace.
At the door, the inspector goes to pat him on the shoulder, as a friendly gesture.
Kaito sidesteps the hand on instinct.
Something about the inspector's face seems... saddened, at the sight.
No matter. They say their goodbyes, and that's that.
It's been some weeks since KID's last heist, and Kaito finds himself wondering how the great detective is doing.
He doesn't miss him, really, he doesn't! But it's been a long while since they talked and he just... he wants to check up on him, yes, exactly that and nothing else. To see for himself if there's nothing to worry about, maybe. Take a peek, confirm his well-being, get back immediately after. Excellent plan.
He's halfway out the window before he can reconsider the idea.
The wind isn't nearly loud enough to drown out his thoughts.
Before long, he's on the roof of the Mouris, and quite a lot of noise reaches his ears through a slightly open window; a song, a brief moment of cheer, and the chitter-chatter of many conversations going on at once.
He dares peek through it.
...A birthday party. One of the kid's, it seems. The Detective Boys are there, all five of them, but he can spot Mouri Ran as well, and the professor cutting up the cake. The walls are decorated and balloons fill empty spaces, almost too many of them, and yet... it works. It's not cozy, but it's warm, and lively, and loud.
He continues to stare, searching the one he came here to see.
There!
His eyes meets the detective's for a brief moment and confusion plays first fiddle before ceding place to that same worry Aoko wore, that same frown, that same not-smile, he's not as open with it as she was but Kaito can recognize it all the same, more subtle but still there, and he can hear the detective excusing himself to the bathroom with the plan to, no doubt, try to talk to him, but that can't happen, KID wasn't even supposed to be spotted at all, poker face poker face, everything is Fine.
Kudou makes it to the roof just in time to see KID disappear behind another building.
He's not jealous of a child, this cannot be happening.
The tightness in his chest that squeezes and holds, it has to be from- from something else! But it's tight, tight, and he tries to keep his breath even but it keeps on getting tighter, and Kaito can't- he can't—
(He tries—)
He makes it through the same window and slides down against the wall, head hidden in his arms as shame and something unnamable burns inside like logs lit on fire and he just wants to get it out.
KID's holding onto the poker face too tight!
(Please!)
It takes a minute, or, more likely, it takes many (none of which he's counting), but, very slowly, he relents. The inverse of putting a puzzle together, step by step taking down each piece that keeps it in place.
It's silent when KID takes the last piece off.
It's silent when his face is truly bare.
It's silent when Kaito cries.
It's silent throughout the whole night.