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It isn’t even a conscious set of decisions, images and realisations flickering past too fast to be called thoughts –
(On reflection, Saguru will think later, regular appearances at Kid heists have clearly trained his reflexes considerably beyond the norm. It’s a... fortunate, if ironic, twist of events.)
– but in the moment, this is what it adds up to:
Kuroba falls down the stairs, and Saguru catches him, almost too late but not.
They’ve both been eyeing Kuroba with suspicion since this morning.
Granted, this in itself is not unusual for Saguru, but today his reasons are quite different. He watches out the corner of his eye, between quick glances from his notebook to the blackboard and back.
Aoko, on the other hand, hasn’t even bothered with such pretensions. (And not for a lack of an ability to multitask, as Saguru and the rest of the class can attest to.)
Her textbooks are out on the table, yes – not that the teachers would likely have reprimanded her otherwise, since Saguru is fairly certain that the first two rules of teaching class 2-B involve basically leaving the pair to their own devices – but by the last lesson of the day she’s staring at Kuroba outright, worry clear on her face.
A worry well-founded, as far as Saguru is concerned.
Aoko had managed to get Kuroba to leave school early three days ago, when she’d realised that he was running a fever high enough that he was having dizzy spells – or, more precisely, having trouble concealing his lightheadedness.
(When Saguru asked, Keiko told him that this wasn’t the first time, either; apparently Kuroba had a proven track record of hiding illnesses, and Aoko had put herself in charge of getting him to rest, with varying degrees of success.)
Kuroba was absent for the following two days, but had turned up again this morning, doing his level best at appearing fine while ignoring all rules of human physiology. And well enough that, though Saguru was loath to admit it, even he would’ve been inclined to believe it if the subject of discussion hadn’t been Kuroba, expert gymnast and disguise artist, among other things.
Aoko stands and rounds upon Kuroba’s desk the second the last bell rings, her expression stern enough to rival Baaya nagging Saguru to eat his meals. “That’s it, you’re going home, Kaito!”
Kuroba blinks up at her innocently. “No way, Aoko, or did you forget that we’re supposed to be on cleaning duty today?”
“Oh, Aoko definitely remembers, but did you forget how you were literally running a dangerously high fever just three days ago? You’re not fine!” Aoko snaps back, and Saguru doesn’t think he’s ever seen her this agitated, ever.
Kuroba deftly dodges her attempt to take his temperature – Saguru catches a well-hidden wince at the motion, which is the biggest evidence of Kuroba’s current state of wellbeing that he’s managed to see all day.
“I agree with Aoko-kun,” Saguru says as he walks over. “You might be immune to colds, Kuroba-kun, but that doesn’t exclude fever.”
“Maybe I’m a bigger fool than you think, then,” Kuroba retorts, crossing his arms almost petulantly.
Saguru exchanges a look of frustration with Aoko – any fight against the stubbornness of one Kuroba Kaito doesn’t exactly have the best odds.
“All right,” Aoko says finally, looking back at Kuroba. “You stay here while Aoko and the others clean the classroom, and then we’re going straight back home. Hakuba-kun’s housekeeper can fetch us, right?”
Saguru nods in confirmation at her glance. He and Kuroba are both assigned to clean the hallway outside their classroom today, and while it is a large area for Saguru to cover by himself, it also means that there isn’t any need for the magician to do anything but wait.
Not that Kuroba agrees, of course, but Saguru goes to pack his bag and retrieve the cleaning supplies, leaving the two of them to bicker.
The sooner he gets started, after all, the faster they can get Kuroba home, and if Aoko can’t get the magician to listen to common sense Saguru doesn’t exactly stand a chance either.
It’s half an hour later when Saguru opens the hallway closet to put the supplies back, and – he doesn’t know if it’s coincidence, or whether he saw something in his peripheral vision without fully registering it, but he turns towards the staircase at the end of the hallway just in time to see –
Kuroba trips over the top stair, and Saguru feels a jolt of cold horror.
He hadn’t known that Kuroba had left the classroom.
The next few moments are disjointed flashes even in his memory. He recalls taking off at a run, the broom falling with a loud clatter – remembers the leaden realisation that Kuroba wouldn’t be able to catch himself in this state, and Saguru must have taken the stairs two at a time himself, because –
He catches Kuroba not quite halfway down the stairs, holding grimly onto his upper torso. The magician is unconscious, a dead weight in Saguru’s arms.
Thoughts run rapidfire through his mind: he can’t carry Kuroba down himself, not without the risk of aggravating any injuries, and (perhaps more importantly) given the high likelihood of disorientation from the fever and fall combined, Saguru needs someone at hand that Kuroba implicitly trusts. He’s keenly aware that he doesn’t count.
He does a quick mental tally of the group – a total of six students, but Aoko had gone to sort the recyclable trash with two others, which left –
Saguru takes a deep breath, and shouts, pitching his voice to carry. “KEIKO!”
Sure enough, there’s the sound of running footsteps several seconds later, and his other classmate rounds the corner. “Hakuba-kun, wha– oh my god, Kaito-kun!”
“Call Aoko-kun,” Saguru says tersely, cutting Keiko off before she can do anything further. “Hurry!”
That startles Keiko into action, and she nods frantically before dashing back towards the classroom – where she’d left her handphone, presumably.
(Saguru’s own phone is in his pants pocket – he’d taken it automatically upon leaving the classroom, a longstanding habit from needing to be contactable by the police at all times – but he can’t reach it without dislodging Kuroba from their already precarious position on the stairs.)
A small eternity seems to pass as Saguru waits on the stairs, holding himself still while he catalogues Kuroba’s injuries – the magician’s shoulder is a mess, and Saguru is fairly certain that the bruising is going to be extensive, but by some unlikely miracle he seems otherwise uninjured.
Externally, at least, and Saguru is only partly successful in not thinking about the number of possible internal injuries that he can’t see when Aoko runs up to them, slightly out of breath.
He isn’t sure if it’s because Keiko had mentioned the situation over the phone, or whether Aoko is just that level-headed in crisis – either way, her face is pale but remarkably composed as she slows to a stop, several steps below them. “What do you need Aoko to do, Hakuba-kun?”
“Help me get him to level ground,” Saguru answers immediately. “I need to examine his injuries properly, but we shouldn’t risk moving him too far. Is there anyone we should call?”
Aoko bites her lip as she moves to take Kuroba’s legs, and together they manoeuvre him carefully onto the hallway floor before she speaks. “Kaito’s mum – Chikage-san – but she might not be home right now, and Aoko doesn’t have her handphone number.”
Which meant that she was in Las Vegas, probably – Saguru had found out that much about the elder Kuroba during his investigations. He stands up and takes out his own handphone instead, already going to speed dial. “Try to wake him up. I’ll ask Baaya to drive the car over, it’s faster than an ambulance.”
Aoko nods, the same determined look still on her face as she crouches down beside Kuroba’s unmoving form, careful not to jostle his shoulder.
Saguru steps away, checking his pocketwatch as he puts the phone to his ear – four and half minutes since Kuroba fell, to his best estimate.
Baaya picks up on the third ring. “Saguru-bocchama?”
“Can you drive over to the school?” Saguru asks. “Bring the first-aid kit and ice packs too, please.”
“Of course,” she says briskly, in her usual efficient manner. “Should I call the doctor as well?”
Saguru looks over to where – he sees with a rush of relief – Kuroba is slowly stirring, though Aoko appears to have stopped him from moving. “Possibly, but later. We’ll meet you at the gates.”
Baaya agrees, and Saguru ends the call as he walks back, crouching down as well. “How is he?”
The question is directed at Aoko, but Kuroba answers instead, which Saguru should really have expected. “Well enough to – ” he grimaces, breathing shallowly, “ – to answer by myself, thanks.”
“Stop talking!” Aoko says, voice wavering for the first time since her arrival. “What next, Hakuba-kun?”
Saguru evaluates his options quickly – Kuroba seems lucid enough, and he’s probably out of immediate danger. “Can you get something to elevate his head and shoulders for now, Aoko-kun? Baaya’s on her way with a first-aid kit, and we can get him proper medical attention afterwards.”
Aoko heads back towards the classroom, and Kuroba waits until she’s out of earshot before speaking. “You know that I can’t go to a hospital, Hakuba.”
“Did I say anything about hospitals?” Saguru isn’t sure what exactly prompts the objection – most probably some previous injury that Kuroba would have trouble accounting for as a civilian – but he’s prepared for it anyway. “Fortunately for you, I have the Hakuba family doctor at my disposal, and non-disclosure agreements covering any patients I bring in as well.”
The magician would probably have rolled his eyes, if he had been capable of it. “It was just a fall, I don’t need a doctor.”
“I beg to differ,” Saguru says sharply. “You were unconscious for almost five whole minutes, Kuroba-kun, this isn’t something you can brush aside.”
Kuroba blanches a little at that – he hadn’t realised it himself, apparently – and Saguru presses his advantage. “So either you see this doctor, or I tell Nakamori-keibu that you fell down the stairs, and you know how he’ll react to that. Your call.”
That gets a look of mulish defiance in return, but Kuroba finally relents with a stiff nod as Aoko returns, carrying a rolled-up bundle of towels.
Saguru sends a text to Baaya, asking her to call the doctor, before helping Aoko to arrange the towels under Kuroba’s head and shoulders.
She glances at him when they’re done. “Are you alright, Hakuba-kun? You’re a little pale.”
The unexpected question startles Saguru, and he belatedly registers the muted roar of a pounding heartbeat in his ears.
He sits down and forces himself to relax, breathing evenly until the buzz of adrenaline fades and leaves him completely exhausted in its wake.
Aoko is still watching him with concern, though, so Saguru manages a weak smile despite the feeling that he’d really like to sleep for ten days straight, yes and thank you. (Saguru is a detective, he isn’t exactly cut out for these kinds of emergency situations, honestly.)
“I’ll be fine. Just a little shocked, that’s all.” His expression is probably more wan than reassuring, but it seems to satisfy Aoko, at least.
She turns back towards Kuroba, who is – falling asleep, Saguru notices with some alarm. Before he can say anything, Aoko pokes the magician, hard. “Wake up, Kaito.”
“Go ‘way, Aoko,” he mumbles, though he does open his eyes again. “Can’t you let me sleep in peace?”
“Oh, you’ll have plenty of time to sleep for the next few days, if Aoko has any say in it.” She leans forward to glare at Kuroba. “Aoko will skip class if that’s what is necessary to make you rest, Kaito, so don’t you dare argue!”
Saguru’s phone buzzes at that moment. “Baaya’s here,” he announces, interrupting what is quickly looking like the start of an argument. “Can you walk, Kuroba-kun? We’ll take the staff elevator down, I hardly think anyone’s going to reprimand us for it right now.”
“Yeah, yeah, no need to bring a stretcher,” Kuroba mutters as Aoko helps him up, and Saguru moves to support him under his good shoulder.
They move down the hallway at a slow but steady pace, and Aoko makes a detour back to the classroom to grab all their bags.
The familiar car at the front gate is an unusually welcome sight. Baaya helps to settle Kuroba in the back seat while Saguru goes to the passenger seat, retrieving two ice packs from the glove box and passing them to Aoko.
“Those should help with the bruising,” Saguru says, somewhat unnecessarily – Aoko is already wrapping one in a clean towel and pressing it gently to Kuroba’s shoulder, eliciting a soft hiss of pain from the magician.
Baaya gets into the driver’s seat, starting the car before glancing over at him. “There’s tea in the thermos if you would like some, Saguru-bocchama.”
Saguru very much does, after the day he’s had, so he goes straight for the silver mug nestled in the console cup holder. The scent of green tea alone – his favourite blend, as expected – is invigorating.
He drinks a third of the not-quite-scalding liquid as they drive towards the Hakuba estate, already feeling considerably more like himself. “You’re a lifesaver, Baaya.”
“Nah, that’s you,” comes a reply from the back seat, and Saguru glances up to find Kuroba looking at him in the rearview mirror. “I owe you one, Hakuba.”
Saguru raises an eyebrow in response. “Indeed. Do me a favour and stay away from stairs, will you?”
“Right.” Kuroba looks away with a chuckle. “That’s probably too much to ask, even for you.”
(It isn’t, as it turns out – Saguru doesn’t know how Aoko manages it, but class 2-B gets temporarily shifted to a ground-floor classroom for the next month while Kuroba is on crutches.
Aoko also sends him a photo of Kuroba’s expression when he finds out, and it’s priceless. Saguru still laughs every time he sees it.)