#also my published wordcount for march is now officially past 10k

[presumenothing]

past time

aka I have too many AUs, and also the Kaito & Shiho tag now has one (1) work on AO3 now, yay

People never think to look up, do they? (Or: two conversations, years apart.)

(AO3) (FFN)

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The rustle of leaves catches Shiho by surprise.

That in itself is unusual - she’s always alert to her surroundings, and perhaps it might’ve been excessive for anyone else, but in her case it really isn’t.

So when an unfamiliar figure swings up onto the tree branch opposite to the one she’s sitting on, it takes her a moment to register that he’d said something. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know there was someone up here, I’ll just – ”

The boy (a year younger than her, probably Japanese descent, Shiho estimates automatically, trying to calm her racing heartbeat) is about to jump back off the branch before she speaks, startling both of them. “No, it’s fine, you can stay.”

“Really?” He gives her a blinding grin when she nods, and settles in - with enviable ease, Shiho can’t help but think. The trees lining the grounds have made a passable sanctuary for her thus far (people never think to look up, not even in a school ostensibly for gifted children), but even then she’s always wary of falling.

She almost regrets the decision not half a minute later, though, when he speaks again. “Enjoying the afternoon sun?"

“Not particularly,” Shiho answers anyway, leaning against the tree trunk. “You?”

“Nah, I’m definitely a night person. Just needed some fresh air after all those classes, you know?” He tugs at the collar of the school uniform with a faint grimace.

Shiho doesn’t, actually – her schedule is far from the usual even here, most of it taken up by research and graduate lessons with the professors.

“Right, I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Kuroba K – sorry, Kaito Kuroba, I should say?” he continues with a sheepish grin, apparently unoffended by her silence. “Still getting used to that, my name sounds really weird in that order.”

“It’s an adjustment period,” she says noncommittally, because - well, it’s not as if she has much experience in the matter. Codenames don’t exactly differ across the world, after all. “I’m Shiho Miyano.”

“I know,” comes Kuroba’s answer, and that’s unexpected. “We’re in the same class for organic chemistry, right?”

Shiho pages through her memories quickly - she isn’t taking the class herself, of course, only helping her supervisor with it as part of her PhD qualifications. “You transferred in recently?”

“Yeah, a month ago. My mum wanted me to come to the States with her, and this school was recommended by a good friend of hers.” He pauses briefly. “Also, I’m quite sure my old school was just about ready to kick me out after I blew up the chemistry lab twice.”

Shiho does look up at that one. “Twice,” she repeats, half in disbelief – she remembers seeing Kuroba’s work in class now, and it had consistently been above average if one ignored the haphazard doodling in the margins and occasional creative answers. Certainly well above catastrophic-lab-incident standards, if she were to judge.

“On purpose,” he clarifies unhelpfully, a glint of mischief clear in his eyes. “Well, mostly on purpose. I was bored, and it wasn’t anything permanent at any rate... well, except for the glitter. I’m not sure Komoe-sensei ever completely got that out of her hair.”

Glitter? she thinks, but silently this time, because she’s not quite sure she wants to know the story behind that particular statement. “Well, I don’t think boredom will be an issue for you here, given the flexibility of the curriculum.”

The sudden excited grin on Kuroba’s face suggests that he does, in fact, agree. “Yeah, I definitely haven’t been bored so far - I mean, some of the teachers are boring, but I guess that’s the same everywhere. Though I could use some help with linear algebra, if you’re taking that class?”

“No, I’m biochem,” Shiho answers shortly – she knows the subject well enough, of course, but the last thing she needs is someone poking around in curiosity. “You’re engineering, I assume?”

Fortunately, he takes the hint to change the topic. “No, I want to be a magician! I’m working on a card gun for design class now, actually, although the mechanism keeps refusing to work out right.”

“Card gun?” she asks, interested despite herself.

“Yeah, you’re supposed to be able to shoot cards with it, but – ” there’s a crinkle of paper as he takes a sheaf of paper from a book she could’ve sworn he hadn’t been holding earlier, “ – here, I have the drafts if you want to take a look?”

“I wouldn’t be much help with that, I’m afraid,” she says before he can hand over the blueprints, and nods at the book instead. “What’re you reading?”

He holds out the book to her, and it takes her several seconds to make the mental switch to Japanese. “Lupin versus Holmes?” she reads from the cover, raising an eyebrow.

“Arsène Lupin versus Herlock Sholmes, actually, but Holmes is overrated anyway,” he quips with a grin. “Do you want to borrow my copy? It’s worth the read, I promise.”

Shiho hesitates – it’d be good practice for her Japanese, which she’s rarely had the chance to use for the past few years since coming here, but on the other hand –

Three things happen almost simultaneously in the next moment: the bell rings, Kuroba visibly startles, and the book reappears on her lap with a puff of smoke.

“Right, that’s my cue,” he says with a glance at his watch, while she’s still mute with surprise. “The professor’s gonna kill me if I’m late for physics again, I think.”

He’s already jumped down from the branch in one nimble movement that would’ve easily sprained Shiho’s ankle (or worse) before she finally manages to respond. “Wait, your book – ”

“Don’t worry about it, you can return it next time we meet! I’ve practically memorised it by this point anyway.” He waves at her with a cheeky grin. “See you around, Miyano!”

Kuroba dashes off around the corner of a building before she can figure out a reply, but - well, Shiho has never been one to say no to a good book, much as she hasn’t made time to read for longer than she can care to remember.

Then again, she’s free for the next two hours while the maintenance crew deals with the spill in an adjacent lab that’d sent her out here in the first place, so she opens the book and begins to read.

On the eighth day of last December, Mon. Gerbois, professor of mathematics at the College of Versailles, while rummaging in an old curiosity-shop, unearthed a small mahogany writing-desk which pleased him very much on account of the multiplicity of its drawers…

. 

(He’d been overly optimistic, of course - she finishes the book quickly enough, but doesn’t get the chance to return it when she’s called back to Japan that very weekend.)

–––

Two muted voices echo faintly as Ai heads down the corridor, snatches of conversation from beyond the slightly ajar doors of the Kudo library.

“ – already told you to be careful – ”

“ – like to see you try piloting a hang glider in this weather, tantei-kun – ”

Both fall suddenly silent when she pushes the door open. (Honestly. She’d already deduced what was going on several heists ago, did they need to look so surprised?)

She walks in anyway, shaking her head with a sigh. “Here, I brought some extra medical supplies for – ”

Ai’s thoughts are abruptly derailed as she gets a proper look at the third person in the room, and the name slips out without her realising it. “Kuroba?”

And the Kaitou Kid, face unobscured by the shadow of a hat brim for once, blinks. “…Miyano?”

(…so, okay, Ai had known that Edogawa was helping Kid, but she clearly hadn’t figured out the whole truth. Though, judging from the look of shock mirrored on the thief’s face, she hadn’t been the only one.)

Edogawa freezes mid-movement, and Ai has the rare privilege of witnessing his complete, utter confusion. “You two… know each other?”

“I thought you looked familiar, but I figured that it must’ve been some weird coincidence. I mean, what were the chances?” Kuroba - who happens to be the Kaitou Kid, apparently, she cannot even believe her life right now - gives her the same blinding grin she remembers from a lifetime ago. “Guess I should’ve known better, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have taken kindly to you asking, at any rate.” Ai takes a page from his book, and doesn’t bother answering Edogawa either - the detective can afford to stew for a while longer. “Still a Lupin fan, I see?”

The familiar top hat appears in Kuroba’s hand in a small puff of smoke, and he tips it at her theatrically, still with that look of amusement on his face. “I always wondered how that book ended up back in my room afterwards.”

“There was a reason I was sent to that school specifically.” Ai shrugs as she strides forward, placing the box she’d been carrying on the table between the pair. “I returned to the labs nearby several times, it was more a matter of finding an opportunity to slip away. Though I suppose I owe you one for taking that long to return it.”

Kuroba appears to think over that for a moment, before glancing to where his sleeve has been cut neatly away to reveal a gash across his upper arm. “Patch me up, and we call it even?”

Ai considers the wound - bullet graze, relatively large caliber, probably matched the deleted reports of snipers that she’d helped to track down previously - before nodding. “Get me a basin of warm water, would you, Edogawa-kun?” she asks, finally glancing over to where the detective is still opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

(Unbeknownst to her, a certain magician thief shudders for reasons he is not completely sure of.)

“Don’t worry, tantei-kun, the answer probably isn’t half as sinister as what you’re probably imagining,” Kuroba adds airily, just as Edogawa looks like he’s about to protest. “Though I’ll leave it up to the ojou-san here to decide whether to tell you.”

Edogawa gives them both a vaguely disgruntled look as he leaves, and Ai gets to work, picking up the tweezers she’d brought over.

“So I take it that you - ” Kuroba hisses sharply as she removes a piece of debris lodged in the wound, “ - are the scientist that tantei-kun mentions every now and then?”

“I would assume so, yes,” Ai quips dryly. “Better than ‘great white flying target’, if you ask me.”

“Hey, I volunteered for this job before I even met tantei-kun,” Kid objects, sounding mildly offended.

“Which is a testament to your soundness of mind, I’m sure,” Ai mutters under her breath.

Kuroba has the temerity to chuckle at that. “Seriously, I even told you about the card gun, I can’t believe it took you this long to put the pieces together. Though I got carried away with the customisations and ended up submitting my modified smoke bombs for class in the end.”

“Even if I’d realised the connection, I would’ve just assumed that both you and Kid had taken inspiration from a common source.” Ai reaches over to tilt the table lamp so she can see better. “And you’re certainly one to talk, given that you already know who Edogawa-kun is.”

“True,” Kuroba says with a wince - whatever painkillers he’d taken earlier were probably wearing off, Ai thinks.

They both fall into silence after that, until Ai straightens, satisfied that she’d removed all the debris. “Besides, if you’d actually gotten as far as showing me the prints, I’d probably have told you to patent the design, and then where would Kaitou Kid be?”

Kuroba is still laughing at that when Edogawa returns with the basin of water and two clean towels, a confused expression on his face.

.

(“I was lying, you know,” Kuroba tells her as his gaze flicks over the wall of screens in the surveillance van, showing various exits of the hideout they’re planning to raid. “Before.”

“Oh, for…” Shiho shakes her head as she checks the barrel of the Glock that Agent Jodie had lent her. “Do we really have to discuss this now, Kid?”

They all use the moniker when he helps on these missions, but it’s very much Kuroba that grins back up at her - there’s a distinct difference. “I’ve never had problems with linear algebra, although I don’t like it much.”

“So what, you were planning to play dumb if I’d agreed to help you?” A glance at Kuroba’s expression confirms her hypothesis - or possibly that he just hadn’t thought that far. “And you already knew I was up that tree, I assume.”

“Guilty as charged,” he answers in a singsong tone, card gun appearing in one hand with a quick movement. “Shall we go, then?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Shiho says, deadpan, as she ducks out of the van’s door ahead of him. “And I wasn’t actually taking that org chem class, if you must know.”

She hears him pause briefly at that one, and there’s a note of realisation in his voice when he replies. “Don’t tell me you were the one who deducted five marks for handwriting on my assignments?”

“No, that was one of the other grad students.” Shiho heads over to where Kudo is talking to several FBI agents, though she does wait for Kuroba to catch up before continuing. “I would’ve deducted ten, at least.”

Beside her, Kuroba splutters in indignation.)

.

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as far as I can tell, the Japanese translation does actually have the title as ルパン対ホームズ, literally “Lupin vs Holmes”, unlike both English and the original French.

not terribly alternate as far as AUs go, though I leave the details up to your imagination – Mystery Train goes somewhat differently in this universe, of course, but otherwise the DC timeline thus far remains mostly similar. on the MK side of things, Kaito presumably returned to Japan for high school when he learned about Toichi being Kid, and while he did keep in contact with Aoko while overseas, their relationship would likely (and unfortunately) not be as close as in canon, leaving him freer to act as Kid. (if it wasn't obvious, the school was recommended by Vermouth – ostensibly to keep Chikage and Kaito safe from Snake and co., but who knows when it comes to her, honestly...)

and allow me to yet again link two stunning pieces of relevant art from aoi/aonosubete, because this artist owns my soul by this point, seriously