Accept the Reality

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Kaito stood at the cemetery with a heavy heart beating inside his ribcage. He couldn't bring himself to step through those gates and finish it once and for all. For a moment Kaito just stood there, looking stupid, restlessly fumbling with his gloved hands while his eyes kept being fixated onto the green grass on the other side of those iron bars building a fence.

Rain drops began to fall from the dark clouds above him and Kaito shivered, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the feeling of rain, taking a breather of the air around him, before he turned on his heel and sat down across of the cemetery on a bench. Slowly, more and more water poured from the sky down onto lively Tokyo, yet Kaito didn't budge. It felt nice to be soaked like this, in a way. With a hint of amusement, he eyed the passing people scrambling to get somewhere dry, holding up umbrellas and bags to cover themselves. He himself didn't see any reason why he should follow their example, he had left his phone inside his hotel and nothing valuable but Pandora occupied his pockets which could have been destroyed by the water.

For the first time since months, Kaito felt finally at peace. Here, inside Beika, sitting in front of the cemetery, so close to his Meitantei.

I meant to leave you behind. Now look at me, lurking like an idiot in front of the cemetery, unable to go up to your grave and bid my last farewell.

Kaito wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He had left this life behind for the sake of his own goal, and now he was nearly back where he had begun. Why did he want the attention his detective had always given him now? Years after they had parted?
A deep and frustrated sigh left his lips and hands reached up to cover his face, fingers raking gently through his wet hair. He just couldn't forget him, the way his eyes would light up when he had the solution, the passion he would display in every single case he had thrown himself into. Edogawa Conan, Kudo Shinichi, they were one and the same, and they fascinated Kaito to no end.

Smiling through the rain, Kaito felt his cheeks growing warm by his own tears running down in a steady stream, mixing with the water. He wanted to deny it, but Kaito knew deep down he missed him, missed him more than he missed his life as moonlighting magician. Scratch that, Conan was what he missed of his former life. Without even realizing it, Kaito had grown so attached to this boy who could read him so well like nobody had done ever before, and now he sat here, close to his grave, laughing and crying at the same time.

Ridiculous. So ridiculous. He is dead. He won't come back. It's useless.

His smile cracked and Kaito buried his face back into his hands, sobbing softly as thunder began to roar above him. Still fighting his tears, Kaito didn't want to cry. Not because of this, not because of him. He didn't want to remember his old rival by crying over his loss. It wasn't what he had wanted and still, more and more tears stained his cheeks. When had he turned into such a crybaby?

"Come back... C-come back..."

***

Conan stared at the view he was forced to witness with eyes full of regret and sorrow. KID was crying. Conan knew, he just knew, KID was crying. But why?

He couldn't imagine any reason KID would be crying for. The gem inside his hands was pulsing by now, blood had started to pile up a little in his tiny prison. How high was it? Merely a few centimeters, yet it was enough to let him grow a tiny bit antsy. What would happen if the entire coffin would be filled?
Conan didn't even want to think about it.

Pandora had been reacting stronger and stronger to him and the young detective observed this with weird fascination. God knew why it had become worse, yet curiosity was as present as ever inside the detective. Slowly but surely, he had gotten a little bubbly inside the coffin. Meditation, a hobby which he had turned to since there wasn't exactly much to do, had managed to suppress it a little, yet the more days passed the bubblier he became. It was torture to be locked up like this when he wanted to run around and crush someone in a good game of soccer.
There was an incredible, inexplicable urge to go somewhere, just where? Something deep down inside his gut demanded him to get the heck out of this place and go somewhere.

Conan swallowed and took a deep breath as the sobbing of his old rival faded from his ears and was replaced by the deafening silence around him. Especially now it was bad... he felt that his goal was close, to damn close, and all he would have to do was get up, walk a few steps, and reach what he had always wanted. Conan couldn't describe why or what this urge was, by best means, it was unlogical and moreover absolutely ridiculous. But it was there, and it gnawed at Conan's nerves like nothing had ever done before. Was he becoming claustrophobic? Was he loosing his sanity?

His thoughts and worries were constantly interrupted by the faint noise of KID crying gently within the rain, still ringing in his ears. It felt so unnatural to him, that the KID was weeping like this, so sorrowful and torn apart by frustration. Conan wanted to know, Conan wanted to know so bad what had upsetted him. The thought of seeing the KID without his pokerface, without the suit, without the mask of a showman he constantly put on... His stomach began to flutter slightly again.

I want to see him... I want to see him crying... I want to see him without that stupid pokerface... I want to comfort him...

KID had done so many favors to him Conan couldn't even count them. His every cell screamed at him to be there for him, to take all the pain off of his soul and the weight from his heart and yet, he was unable to move to just do that. Conan was forced to stay here, full on knowing how KID was feeling, and doomed to accept it.

Slowly, a few tears of frustration began to run down his face. KID shouldn't cry. Never again.

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