Chapter Text
They ended up at Kudo’s place, for some reason. Actually, they’d decided on the location because it was ‘closest’ and ‘nobody would be there’. Kaito still would have preferred some empty rooftop, probably, if for no other reason than a quick escape.
He could also admit, even if only to himself, that he was wary. They needed to have this conversation, the sooner the better. Conan had performed magic on him. Magic! He - still hadn’t got over that, really. Generally, he liked to pretend magic didn’t exist until he actively had to deal with it, usually in the form of Akako making another attempt at him.
It was not something he would have ever associated with the detective before tonight.
Conan seemed reluctant too, as he bustled around the kitchen to get them both something to drink. Obvious stalling tactic if Kaito had ever seen one.
Once they both had a cup of coffee in hand, Conan’s black and Kaito’s sweetened to an inch of its life, there was no more putting it off.
“So, ah, what do you know of shinigami?” Conan asked, trying to sound strong, but unable to look his counterpart in the eye.
Kaito scrutinised his critic. “Beyond the myths? Very little.” He tilted his head and considered, to say or not to say…
He knew the detective was trustworthy, he had always known that to some degree. And with his identity no longer a secret between them, there was little he needed to hide from the other. But, this sudden unshakable trust, like he knew down to his bones that Conan would never betray him… It scared him. It didn’t feel unnatural, or forced, but it had only come into existence after they’d sealed that ‘bond’.
It’d saved his life, though. Maybe for that alone he could give this whole situation the benefit of the doubt?
“There was that one time a witch in my class warned me not to go to a heist, because I would encounter an ‘angel of death’. Actually, I’m pretty sure she meant you. It was the clocktower heist, remember.”
Conan blinked, then blinked again.
“You have a witch in your class?”
“And you performed magic today. Yes. I can introduce you to her later, if you want?”
“No”, the detective grimaced at the thought.
Kaito hummed thoughtfully. “So what was this about shinigami? I seem to remember earlier, that you implied you are one.”
“Yes.”
The straightforward admission seemed to take a lot out of Conan. The boy sighed deeply, took a moment to rally, then squared his shoulders and made eye contact.
“Yes, I am a shinigami. Though not in the way that the rumours at the police station imply. I don’t…”
What rumours at the police station, Kaito wondered, as he watched Conan search for the words. The boy seemed to be discomforted by these rumours if the fidgeting of his hands was anything to go by. During previous outings to the police station, Kaito himself had mainly focused on inspector Nakamori and the KID task force, but maybe he should do some more snooping around next time.
“Death doesn’t follow me around.” Conan spit out. And oh, Kaito could see why the detective would find that kind of talk disquieting.
“Well, they mainly say it about uncle Kogorou, but anyway. It works more the other way around, for shinigami. My father said that shinigami have a subconscious sense of fate, that leads us to places where people die.”
“Fate?” Kaito asked, attempting to keep his critic talking.
“Ah, not fate as in: ‘what’s supposed to happen’ or ‘who you’re supposed to be’. It’s basically cause and effect, but then for the whole world. If you were to take all of the variables into account, you could predict the future, right? But that’s practically impossible, because there are far too many variables for anyone to take into account.
“But dad said that there are some people who can subconsciously tap into the ‘flow of the world’, which is a really stupid term for it in my opinion, and allow it to guide their decisions.”
“I think - I’m going to need to process that more, later”, Kaito breathed, uncertain. “So, what does this whole shinigami thing have to do with you saving my life?”
One hand moved towards his chest, gripping the fabric over that spot where the diagram had been drawn. Conan’s eyes softened.
“Since you have a witch in your class, you must know that witchcraft actually exists. Shinigami, and those like us, are not witches. We don’t do magic like they do. But there is one spell that my father insisted I know: the bonding.
“It’s apparently something that is used to ‘lighten the burden’ - my mother’s words, by the way - but for some shinigami it can also be used to save a life.”
Kaito nodded. “If I remember right: ‘a strong enough shinigami’. That’s what you said, before.”
The little detective seemed embarrassed, of all things. He absently picked up his cup, noticed it was empty, then sighed and returned to the kitchen. Kaito watched him go, deep in thought.
He crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling.