"Step aside, Meitantei, You can back out now." said KID.

Kudo wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and leaned in with a smirk. "Just because I agreed to be your partner, doesn't mean I came here to help you. I'm still a detective. I'm here to stop you from taking the prize."

"And I," KID replied firmly, "intend to win, no matter what."

Their dance steps shifted again—fluid, synchronized, but underneath the elegance, a tense battle brewed. Each step, spin, and dip was a veiled struggle for dominance.

Kudo broke away from KID's hand on his back and clasped KID's wrist, guiding it onto his own shoulder. With their other hands interlocked, fingers woven tight, he asked, "You're here for Hamada Chizuru and Aoyama Yoichi, aren't you?"

KID arched a brow, spun lightly in a one-and-a-half turn, and suddenly seized Kudo's tie, yanking him forward. Too close for two dancers, too close for two rivals. The soft chuckles beneath Kudo's ears are ticklish.

"So, you recognized me because..."

"Exactly. I suppose you disguise yourself as the Chizuru of a decade past to get close to Aoyama, her old acquaintance."

KID stood still, slightly lowering his chin. Though the face before Kudo was that of a woman, those indigo eyes—he knew them well.

"Tell me, Meitantei," KID asked lightly, "you've learned how to dance before, haven't you?"

"Of course," Kudo replied, pride barely masked. "I learned in Hawaii from my mom."

"Is that so? Heh—your steps are quite disappointing."

"You—!" Kudo's cheeks flushed. He pinched KID's arm in retaliation. "I learned the male lead, not this! I'm not like some morally ambiguous thief!"

Kudo Shinichi couldn't understand it—how could a man possess such a balance between grace and strength? How could a man control the situation with his powerful aura while smiling charmingly?

As the music reached its final high note, that silver silhouette spun once more, landing gracefully in Kudo's arms. One hand rested on his shoulder; the other gently tilted Kudo's chin upward.

"Now it's my turn to ask you... why would you risk so much just to turn back?" asked KID. "I recall your temporary antidote doesn't last long. Aren't you afraid the organization that poisoned you will find out that you are alive? Though I admit, that mask of yours is quite the safeguard. But still, why did this? Could it be that..."

"Because I was afraid you might die here," Kudo Shinichi shot him a daggered glare. "Thinking about it now, I acted too impulsively. Should've let you die on stage by your own foolishness."

KID's palm pressed against Kudo Shinichi's chest, fingers trailing downward along the buttons of his suit, as Shinichi sucked the air hard. KID gave him a firm grope and laughed aloud: "So what you're saying is... it was all for me, then? Well, Meitantei, as thanks for your help—how about I give you a reward in return?"

A mysterious smile, a dangerous question, a tempting offer.

Kudo couldn't utter a single word. His Adam's apple bobbed. That once sharply tuned brain had come to a screeching halt. KID was close—so close their noses almost touched. Warm breath whispered against Shinichi's ear. Two arms wrapped around his neck, leaving him no escape.

"What... what are you trying to do?" Kudo Shinichi asked in a low voice, his heart pounding wildly. He dared not lift his head, for fear of crashing into that smug yet intoxicating smile.

"Meitantei, kiss my cheek... I need to meet with Mr. Aoyama."

"What? Are you insane?" Kudo frowned, his tone clipped. "I don't understand what point there is to any of this. Why would Aoyama even agree to meet you alone? And get this straight—I'm not here to act out some play with you... I'm here to catch—"

His cheek suddenly grew warm, and words deserted him.

All he could see were those eyes—eyes like the sky, like the sea—drawing him in, pulling him deeper. KID gently tilted Shinichi's chin, gloved fingers soft but commanding, forcing his face up. KID leaned in, pressing a rose-pink kiss to the corner of his thin lips.

Even after, a lingering warmth remained.

________________________

The Cinderella who won in the end was not some meek, helpless girl—but a true wolf cloaked in lamb's skin.

Aoyama Yoichi found himself at a complete loss for words.

When the woman before him lowered her gaze ever so slightly, when his trembling fingers slipped Cinderella into her hair, he stared—dumbstruck—at the face he'd longed for all these years.

"Chizuru..."

From the beginning, Aoyama had noticed—those familiar steps, that familiar face, the exact same gown and mask as ten years ago. How could he not recognize her?

And yet, he had no desire to reunite. Ten years of separation, of yearning and regret, still couldn't bridge the chasm within his heart. Now she stood in front of him again, winning once more. Ten years had passed, and she hadn't aged a day.

"Chizuru? You mean Hamada Chizuru?" Inspector Nakamori clearly didn't understand why the guests looked so shaken. "Wasn't she Aoyama's ex-wife? What's she doing at this ball?"

"No idea," Suzuki replied, visibly uneasy. "But her presence here... can't be good."

"Why? Honestly, I'm more curious whether KID will show up tonight." Nakamori stifled a yawn. "It's already past midnight and there is not a single trace of the phantom thief."

"That's because of a rumor going around," Suzuki murmured. "They say Hamada Chizuru, despite being the lead of the dance troupe, is only using that identity as a front. The truth is—she's a contract assassin."

Nakamori looked up, only to see Hakuba Saguru approaching, accompanied by a masked young man. He muttered, "What's this brat doing here again?"

"When they divorced ten years ago, Aoyama Yoichi was under immense pressure from both family and public opinion. That same year, Aoyama Yoichi's father passed away, and everyone in the household believed Chizuru was the killer," Hakuba explained.

"The Aoyama family and prosecutors suspected she had been hired to kill, using some strange method to murder the patriarch. But with no solid evidence, they couldn't indict her. That case became the final straw in their already crumbling marriage, ending in tragedy."

"They said that she killed the head of the family? That's absurd," Nakamori scoffed.

"It's not baseless," Hakuba continued. He had spent the past few days combing through countless records, uncovering connections buried in the past.

"What proof do you have?" This time it was Kudo Shinichi asking.

Hakuba turned, smiling enigmatically. "You mean you didn't know, Kudo-kun?"

"Kudo... Kudo Shinichi?!" Nakamori and Suzuki Jirokichi both recoiled, faces twisted in suspicion. "Don't tell us—you're KID in disguise again!"

Kudo instinctively took a step back as Nakamori reached toward him. Hakuba quickly interjected: "Relax. I can vouch for him. He's not KID."

"Then Hakuba-kun, please explain your suspicions. What proof do you have?" asked Kudo Shinichi.

Hakuba gave him a heavy look before responding: "She was suspected of being part of a mercenary assassin group—code name: Centipede. Back when the police secretly investigated the case, they did manage to extract a great deal of information from Miss Chizuru, though nothing that could directly convict her. She confessed only to crimes committed by other members. She was never arrested, and after the divorce, she vanished. Back then, she didn't even deny killing the elder Aoyama. She remained silent throughout. Aoyama later offered a vague explanation, saying they were both too drained to continue the marriage. And that was that."

"Centipede... so you're saying... poison?" Kudo sharply looked up.

Hakuba raised an eyebrow. "Exactly. But after all these years, there's still no physical evidence. That's why she dares keep such a glaring tell on her."

Meanwhile, Nakamori Ginzo furrowed his brow, murmuring to himself: "But if they were married ten years ago, they should be middle-aged by now. And yet..."

"What kind of mark?" Kudo pressed.

"A scar about ten centimeters long, burned into the shoulder—shaped like a centipede."

A centipede-shaped scar?! Kudo narrowed his eyes...Wait____isn't that.......... That means...

"Which means—" Suzuki and Nakamori both turned to stare at the woman on stage in the silver-white gown, her pale shoulders and collarbones exposed with confidence. Then they looked at each other, their faces turning ghostly pale. "There's only one reason KID hasn't shown up—he's already succeeded. He's standing right there on stage..."

_____________________

"So it really is you..."

The woman was just about to turn around when Aoyama caught her shoulder.

"...I never thought you'd come to find me. But I'm glad you came tonight."

Unable to contain the ache of ten years' longing, Aoyama's voice remained stern, but his hands clutched her shoulders tightly. "Is it really you? Have you come back for me...?"

Yet beneath his tender gaze, he struck fast—a sharp chop aimed without warning. But KID was ready. He bent backward to dodge, twisting around Aoyama's flank. Yet Aoyama was faster, more forceful, as if he'd anticipated the move. His hand reached into his pocket—

A glint of steel. KID froze. A sting grazed his neck. He didn't dare move. The Swiss knife blade pressed lightly against his throat, steady and sure, pulsing faintly with KID's racing heartbeat.

"You're not Chizuru. I knew from the start. Your dance and steps might mimic hers by ninety percent, but you lack the tattoo on her shoulder. First, I thought that you covered up, but then...... when you started to fight against the others, your movements betrayed you."

"And besides—you look exactly like she did ten years ago." Aoyama sneered. "Or should I say—KID, the infamous phantom thief."

KID didn't bother to deny it. "Really is clever, Aoyama-san. But I suggest you don't make any rash moves... If you kill me here, the police won't let it slide."

"I have no intention of killing you. I want answers. Why did you target Cinderella? And why—why did you dress as Chizuru? What the hell are you after?" Aoyama's voice grew darker, his hand tightening on KID's collarbone while the other kept the blade pressed firm. As if the guests and police below had ceased to exist.

"I came only to honor a promise to an old friend, and to borrow something. Besides, as you yourself said—any guest has the right to claim Cinderella. Since I won it by your own rules, I have every right to do with it what I will."

"You—" Aoyama bit back his retort, unable to counter KID's logic. "Fine, it's true you won it fair and square. But you can't pretend not to know that Hamada Chizuru was once my wife. Tell me—were you sent by someone to—"

He looked up instinctively—just in time to see a soccer ball whirling toward him at high speed.

Now it's time!

KID coiled inward, seized Aoyama's knife hand, ducked low, and slipped free with lightning speed.

"Don't move."

This time, KID's smirk returned. His strong left arm wrapped around Aoyama's neck—not choking, but unyielding. The Cinderella hairpin glinted dangerously in his other hand under the lights.

Inspector Nakamori, who'd been holding his breath the entire time, finally snapped back to life. "KID! You're not getting away this time! Let Aoyama-san go!"

KID blinked, voice casual and smooth. "Aoyama-san, I'd planned to steal it today. But now that I'm here, it feels like a waste not to win it properly. I've always wanted to see this legendary Halloween Dance in person—where Miss Chizuru once shone so brightly."

"Who is she to you?" Aoyama gritted his teeth.

"She was my teacher, in a way. Only for three days, but still—a teacher for a day is a teacher for life. She asked me to stand in for her... to give the final dance just for you."

Aoyama's expression faltered. A cold weight crept over his chest. He could guess what had happened, but his mind refused to accept it. "Don't talk nonsense. You might imitate her perfectly, but Chizuru... She was a principal dancer! She never took students! Why would she ask you—"

"I know," KID interrupted, quiet but firm. "But even the most powerful people are only human. Miss Chizuru has been bedridden for years. She doesn't have much time left. I don't say this to talk about some philosophy or offer life lessons. I'm the last person with the right. But this was her final wish—entrusted to me, Kaitou KID. And I came to keep that promise."

He glanced toward the corner where the Meitantei stood. Then continued, "I don't know the whole history between you two. But once someone is dead, to her, everything ends."

"Her final wish...?!" Aoyama stared at him in disbelief. "No... What are you saying...?"

KID released him, took a deep breath, and slowly extended his hand. In his palm lay the hairpin—Cinderella—.

"I'd meant to borrow it for one night. Return it the next day, good. But since you won't lend it, and it's not the jewel I seek... I'll return it now."

"Then Chizuru, she... she really—?" Aoyama's voice trembled.

"I don't know," KID said plainly. "Some things, I have no place interfering in. The dance is over. Midnight has passed. I should be going."

He turned slightly, catching sight of the police pushing through the crowd and shouting furiously. A quiet smile tugged at his lips. "Once midnight passes... even the finest magic fades."

"Wait! I—KID! Tell me! Does Chizuru still want... to be with me? Is she still waiting?" Aoyama lunged forward, desperate to seize the man before him, to ask where Chizuru was.

But in the blink of an eye, the woman vanished—replaced by the familiar figure in the magician's tuxedo, standing at the window. One glass slipper remained behind.

He bowed slightly as the crowd erupted into screams and chaos.

"I'm just a thief. I know nothing. Only one thing for certain: whatever is borrowed, must someday be returned."

No matter how much time you borrow, one day you must return all of them back.

_____________________________

Haibara Ai sat on the windowsill of the men's bathroom, arms crossed over her chest. "Looks like Kudo has completely reverted."

"Agasa drove by earlier, took all the equipment and materials back. We did several scans during your transformation process. Hopefully, it'll help with the next round of experiments. I'll continue the research when I get back."

Conan gave a dry laugh, pulling a few tissues to wipe the sweat from his face. "Thanks. That should be enough blood for you to run your analysis, right?"

"Plenty. But the last time I told you to find a safe place and timing to test the drug, I didn't mean a public dance ball. Do you think Gin is already rotting in a coffin? Or are you just dying to get in one yourself?"

"Sorry... I... wasn't thinking straight."

"Well, you've used up your last antidote. Not my problem anymore. I figured you'd use this chance to see Ran or chase down a case. In any case... this was your call." Haibara turned her head coolly.

Conan quickly apologized. "I swear, next time I'll inform you beforehand."

"There won't be a next time." Her voice was cold and slow. "The next phase of research needs more data. We've hit a bottleneck. Did you hear me? A bottleneck. So don't come asking me for another antidote."

"I need more APTX components and formula data for further experiments. What we have from your usage logs isn't enough. Unless you wanna ask your little thief friend to go steal a box of it from the Organization."

She was really mad this time.

After a long silence, Haibara opened one eye. "I saw Vermouth."

Conan's lashes trembled. Shock flickered in his eyes. "What?! Vermouth? Are you sure it was her? Did she hurt you?"

Haibara shook her head, cold as ever, but there was a faint warmth behind it—Kudo really did care.

"She disguised herself as Hakuba. Said some odd things—cryptic. I think she wanted me to deliver the message to you." Haibara handed him a scroll.

"A map? Wait—this is the layout of Beika Zoo?! But why would she... help us?"

"Who knows. But I'm certain the Organization is connected to Kishida. And Vermouth's appearance confirms it. Kudo, what are you thinking?"

Haibara knew that look all too well—when Conan suddenly pulled all the threads together, the lightbulb moment of realization.

"Not sure how this ties into the Organization yet, but... I don't have time to explain now." Conan spoke faster. "We have to find Aoyama. And to find him—we need to find the hospital where Hamada Chizuru is!"

"You're going to her?" Haibara frowned and chased after him. They burst out of the villa, just in time to see Aoyama stepping into a private car.

They rushed to a waiting cab and knocked on the window.

"Sir, could you please give us a ride?"

"Sorry, kiddo. Mr. Ishimura already paid for the day. I'm waiting for him. Try another cab."

Conan asked around, but every driver said the same. Haibara noted, "Must be hard to get transport around here. The guests probably all pre-booked their rides. We need another plan."

Before she could finish, a red sports car pulled into the driveway. Headlights flashed.

"Conan! Get in."

It was Hakuba.

The housekeeper in the driver's seat gave them a sideways glance and muttered something under her breath. Conan barely had time to buckle in before she slammed on the gas. Hakuba, unbothered, gripped the door handle and laughed into the wind. "You're chasing Aoyama-san? You think he's KID?"

"No," Conan said. "We need to ask him about Chizuru."

"Didn't KID say she was terminally ill?" Hakuba asked.

"Yes, but I'm more concerned about the claim she was in a mercenary group." Conan nodded in thanks. "Thank you, Hakuba-san. But just drop us off at the nearest subway station. We can catch a cab from there. We don't want to trouble you."

"It's no trouble," Hakuba waved a hand.

______________________

Kuraki stirred awake, brow furrowed, about to mutter a complaint—then realized he was high above the ground. More precisely, he was being bridal carried through the night sky.

"K-KID Kaitou KID!!"

He was speechless. For a moment, even frowning was forgotten—he just stared.

"You... you're really KID!"

Hearing the awe and thrill in Kuraki's voice, Kuroba Kaito couldn't help but smirk...

Don't tell me Kuraki's idol is... KID?__Hell.....No way.

"I... how did I..."

Yep, definitely a fan. Seeing KID had him totally tongue-tied. "But today wasn't one of your announced heists...?"

Kuroba Kaito blinked. "True. But I should thank you. If not for you, I wouldn't have escaped so easily."

Kuraki flushed from his neck up like he'd chugged three beers. He couldn't quite grasp what KID meant. What had he even done...

He'd followed Conan earlier—he knew that wherever Edogawa Conan went, KID wouldn't be far behind. Conan was indeed the KID-Killer after all. If he wanted to meet his idol, tracking Conan was the surest route. But before Conan even left the house, Kuraki had mysteriously passed out.

He remembered nothing after that.

But that didn't matter—because right now, he was being princess-carried in the arms of the legendary Magician Under the Moonlight! The usual cheeky Kuraki was nowhere to be seen. What remained was a dazed, airy smile as he looked dreamily at KID.

Kuroba Kaito began to wonder if he'd hit Kuraki too hard earlier. Maybe he'd knocked a screw loose.

"By the way... what time is it now?" Kuraki, realizing he had slept for quite a while, asked hastily. Kuroba glanced at his watch. "Four-thirty a.m. We've arrived at your place."

"You... you know where I live?"

Kuroba Kaito once again questioned whether Kuraki's brain had truly gone melted away. Was having a stranger know your address something to be happy about? Cut it out with the giggles, Kuraki-kun. If your classmates knew about this, half your sidekicks would leave you.

"I am a magician, after all. I know everything I need to know."

KID quietly retracted his glider wings, touched down on the second-floor balcony with a light tap, and gently set Kuraki down. As he prepared to take off again, he felt Kuraki tug on the hem of his tuxedo.

"Wait! Don't go just yet."

"There's no one home," Kuraki said. "I won't call the cops..."

"Oh?" Kuroba wore a knowing smile. "And what exactly do you want me to stay for?"

"My parents aren't home. The cleaning lady won't arrive until four-thirty in the morning... could you..." All the bluster Kuraki had at school vanished. Right in front of KID, he was just a timid little kid. He peeked up at Kuroba, his voice nearly a whisper. "Could you stay... just a few minutes? Let me show you my toy collection?"

"Kiddo," Kuroba squatted down. "Your parents really aren't around?"

"Yeah, but that's normal. They're always traveling—America, France, Hong Kong, Singapore... They rarely return to Japan. And when they do, we watch sports or movies together."

Something about those words must have tugged at Kuroba's childhood memories. In the end, he agreed to stay—ten minutes only. Even though Kuraki bullied Ishikawa Kaito at school, and even though Ishikawa never really paid him much attention, and even though having a wealthy background and lack of love were not the excuses to push others around... Kuroba Kaito saw a piece of himself in that lonely boy.

"Ten minutes. That's all," Kuroba reminded. "Did you really need to clean your entire toy shelf?"

Standing on the balcony, Kuroba watched Kuraki run back and forth, hauling LEGO sets and model battleships from his shelves, eagerly introducing each one.

"Why don't you share these with your friends?" Kuroba asked. "I bet these are the kind of toys kids your age would love."

"They won't play with me. They're scared of me."

"Then maybe you should ask yourself why that is," Kuroba tousled Kuraki's red hair. "Careful, or you'll grow up with no friends."

"Do you have friends?" Kuraki asked."The close one, I mean. The one that you can trust even with your own life."

Kuroba's lips curved into a smirk. The first face that flashed through his mind wasn't Aoko, wasn't Akako, and wasn't even Hakuba. It was that troublesome, bespectacled brat—

Edogawa Conan.

"Yeah. One tenacious little jerk with a superiority complex. A so-called Meitantei with no dreams and fantasies."

___________________

"Kudo," Haibara Ai whispered in Conan's ear, "Do you think Hakuba knows who you really are?"

"Hmm... I'd say he's about ninety percent sure," Conan nodded.

"Then why insist on getting in his car? What's between Aoyama and Chizuru that's got you so obsessed?"

"Kishida Saburo. I remembered the burn on his hand—it looked just like a centipede. And those weird lyrics he recited earlier—they reference the centipede, king of the hundred-legged, head of the five poisons. There might be a connection. No... I think this all started from those strange animal-themed riddles in that worksheet. It linked everything together."

"Forget the zoo puzzles for a second. You suspect Kishida Saburo and Hamada Chizuru are both connected to that legendary mercenary syndicate?" Haibara furrowed her brows. "I find it hard to believe the Black Organization would outsource assassins. Gin's been busy rooting out traitors—he wouldn't allow such a massive leak."

"Exactly. If they're hiring mercs externally, and if those mercs eventually become loyal only to a few upper-level members, that could pose a threat to the boss himself. You got your point, but for now, I'm just theorizing based on what we have. Maybe someone hired these people secretly."

Conan continued, "A centipede has two heads. Maybe this so-called killer code-named Centipede is actually two people. That's why I need to meet Miss Chizuru. She might know something about Mr. Kishida. Haibara, we've still got a whole crate of explosives unaccounted for. If the organization gets their hands on it first... this would be very bad."

Ahead, the black sedan stopped in front of a private hospital, with Hakuba's car trailing close behind. Aoyama hadn't realized he was being followed—his only thought was seeing Chizuru one last time. Hakuba was the first to get out, opening the rear door.

"This is as far as I go. My father's looking for me. I'll be off now. Good luck."

Haibara turned her head—and gasped.

"Oi... your leg."

"Huh?" Conan looked down—only to see a trail of blood coursing along his calf, soaking through his pristine white sock.

"It's nothing," Conan said. "Probably just a scratch from when we were dancing... maybe KID's heel nicked me. Just a skin wound. No big deal."

He didn't have time to care about the injury. Jumping out of the car, he ran ahead.

Outside the ICU stood Aoyama Yoichi, restless with worry. When he saw Haibara and Conan approaching, he didn't seem surprised.

"You're here to ask questions, right?" he said, rubbing his cold hands together.

"May I ask you a few things, Aoyama-san? I'm here on behalf of Mouri Kogoro and Inspector Nakamori," said Conan.

"Mouri Kogoro? I've heard of him—works with the police, right? Ask away. If I know, I'll tell you."

"Miss Chizuru, is she..." Conan began, but Aoyama cleared his throat and continued.

"Yes. She was part of that assasination. As a child, her family was poor. She took any job she could to earn money. You can't blame her for that. She simply followed the wrong person, down a path of no return. But I've always believed—she had nothing to do with my father's death.

"It was that one night, the night she won Cinderella. I fell for her at first sight. We were dancing in the ballroom, lost in the music. We dated after that dance, several times, then one day without any warning, she confessed everything to me. She said she hated what she was. But... she'd give it all up—for me."

"If it were any other pampered young heir, he might have been terrified by now. But the Aoyama family, as you surely know... we are no strangers to such matters. We have, on occasion, even employed so-called 'The Dealer' ourselves. Still, to be this close to one, to understand one so deeply... Chizuru was my first love. My first wife. Naturally, my family objected. But we were determined to be together. It was reckless youth, and yet... it made me realize just how vast the chasm between us truly was."

"How so?"

"Environment," Aoyama sighed. "Friends, colleagues—they aren't things you can simply sever ties with. Some of my friends have gone on to do great things, but beneath all that glamor, they carry stories no one wants to tell. I wanted a home. A family. A peaceful life. And Chizuru... she couldn't let go of that other world. She couldn't become the wife I envisioned, the daughter-in-law my family expected. My father's death—who knows what truly happened? She claimed she had no part in it, and I chose to believe her. I stopped asking. But she couldn't bear the guilt and the pressure. She left me. Said I would never understand her pain. I refused to accept that. I asked her to forget her past, to remove the tattoo and scar on her shoulder, to stay home, be my wife."

"But that wasn't her. She wouldn't." Haibara Ai said quietly.

"No." Aoyama gave a pained smile. "But I still hoped. After the divorce, I hoped she'd come back. That she would regret leaving me. When my second wife passed away, she'd return to me... Just once, to look at me again. But who could've known..."

"Your second wife? Did she have a problem with this?" Haibara asked.

"A political match. We both knew what we were getting. She knew what she wanted. We respected each other, like family. There was no love between us. Her passing did hurt, of course, but..."

Aoyama opened his hands. "I don't know how to explain it."

Conan stepped forward. "Do you know anything about the assassin syndicate?"

"I never wanted to. I didn't ask. Just overheard pieces from Chizuru now and then. The higher-ups in the organization clearly didn't want to lose someone like her. They kept coming after us. I think that's why she divorced me. She never wanted to burden me. That was always her nature."

"But she asked something from KID," Conan frowned. "That means she may have had some connection to him."

Aoyama smiled faintly. "As far as I know, Chizuru didn't know any thief like KID. But I must admit, the members of the syndicate weren't like those sleek, calculating villains you see in movies. From what Chizuru told me, they were little more than terrorists with guns. Crude, really. No even match for the security system we have in our family. Perhaps KID owed her a favor. That would explain it."

He paused. "Though there was one thing about the organization that struck me early on—they named themselves after animals. I remember a few: Spider, Scorpion, KESTREL... and one name that always felt off. Sazerac."

At that name, Haibara turned pale as if doused in ice water. Kudo noticed it instantly, and his voice tensed. "Sazerac? That's a kind of alcohol, isn't it?"

"Yes. I don't know more than that. But I recall Chizuru had a few phone calls with a man of that name. I never asked about it. No matter how upset I was at her links to those people, I never confronted her."

Suddenly, Aoyama remembered something. "There were two others. Friends of Chizuru's. I met them while accompanying her during a theater tour for our honeymoon... Kuroba Chikage, and Kuroba Toichi."

"Yes," Haibara nodded. "Toichi was a magician of legendary skill. Are you suggesting they were part of..."

"No, no. I'm not saying that. Just acquaintances. I once joked that with "kuro" in their names—meaning crow—maybe they were part of the assassin network too. But Chizuru looked at me, deadly serious, and told me never to say such things."

Aoyama stared down at the floor. "In any case, don't waste your efforts trying to find them. I later heard Kuroba-san died during a performance. His wife left Japan. I'm sorry, young man. You came to find KID, but I have no real clue to offer you."

"It's alright." Conan shook his head.

But just as KID said: borrowed time must always be returned.

When Conan later came out from the bathroom and emerged into the stairwell, he found Aoyama collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. From the hallway echoed the thunder of a hospital gurney rolling through. And just for a moment, Conan glimpsed something beneath the white shroud—nestled in Chizuru's dull, lifeless bun lay the very same hairpin.

The magic had worn off. The truth laid bare__The coach turned back into a pumpkin, the driver into a rat.

With only the softest hues and gentlest glow remaining, as if to whisper:Will you accept me... for who I truly am?

_______________________________-

"In the end, you still uncovered an organization potentially linked to the Black Organization. That's not effortless" Haibara Ai yawned long and loud as she and Conan returned to Agasa's house. It was already past six in the morning. She went upstairs, paused in front of the bedroom door, and called out, "I'm going to catch up on sleep. Kudo, don't bother me unless it's urgent. I'm not going today." The door slammed shut and locked.

Conan helped Agasa clean up the aftermath in the living room. Scattered manga, wrappers, and a table full of half-eaten food quickly vanished under their joint effort. The kids had all been picked up by their parents in the middle of the night yesterday.

"Shinichi, those materials you asked for yesterday—I might still need some time to dig them up," Agasa frowned.

"Don't trouble yourself, I can look into it myself." Conan shook his head. "I just didn't expect... Kishida Saburou. A guy who seems like nothing more than a bomb-obsessed lunatic, turns out to be tangled up with two organizations at once. There has to be a thread I haven't pulled yet."

Ding dong___

Both Conan and Agasa glanced at the door.

"Who could that be?"

"I've no idea. You go check. I'll take these boxes to the recycling bin." Agasa took the trash bags from Conan and disappeared into the kitchen. Conan made his way to the front door.

He opened it___and found Ishikawa Kaito in a school uniform.

"Ishikawa..." A wave of guilt swept through Conan the moment he saw him. "You... what brings you here?"

"You said yesterday you had something to give me. But then...... maybe I fell asleep? " Kaito tilted his head. "So what was it?"

Caught in his own lie, Conan thought quickly. He remembered the snacks he packed from the party and stored in the fridge.

"I brought some desserts back from the party. See if you like them." Conan tugged Kaito toward the kitchen. Kaito opened the box—it was indeed filled with treats he loved. Last night, with Chizuru's face on, Kaito couldn't sit at the banquet table and gorge himself. He had to painfully say goodbye to the crispy, buttery pastries...

Hmph. At least the Meitantei has some decency. Trying to make it up to me?

Kaito then shot Conan a look and declared: "Then I'll take all of them."

"Isn't that a bit much? Sweets first thing in the morning aren't exactly healthy—"

Before Conan could finish, Kaito slapped his hand away. "All_ Of_ Them_ Are_ Mine!"

"...............Fine, fine. They're all yours, happy?"

Ishikawa Kaito bit into a chocolate croissant with smug satisfaction. Even though the pastry was a day old and lacked the crisp flakiness of fresh-baked ones, it had its own comforting flavor. Kaito plopped himself onto a chair at the dining table, legs swinging, nibbling the croissant as he watched Conan pack his bag.

"You like them?" Conan asked, his eyes unintentionally lingering on Kaito's lips. Crumbs and berry jam clung to them, glistening faintly with butter. As Kaito took another slow bite, Conan found himself growing hungry.

Kudo Shinichi: Forget it. This brat would never share his treats. He'll bite me before I reach my hand.

Kuroba Kaito: What are you staring at... You're practically drooling. Don't look at me like you wanna eat me.

Kaito rolled his eyes and abruptly held the croissant out in front of Conan:

"Just one bite."

Conan blinked in confusion, then realized what Kaito meant. "No need, Ishikawa-kun. I brought it back for you after all."

Kaito said nothing, still holding it out. The croissant was already touching Conan's lips. Conan glanced at him, then at the croissant with its delicate row of bite marks, and slowly opened his mouth.

The rich aroma of butter enveloped him. Though it wasn't fresh from the oven, its tender layers melted on his tongue, blending with bittersweet dark chocolate—a sensation of layered happiness.

"One more bite." Kaito insisted. "A bigger one this time, or you won't get to the filling. There are some hazelnut crunch and chocolate bark inside. That is___heaven."

Conan wanted to refuse but couldn't withstand the pleading look in Kaito's eyes—not to mention, the croissant was genuinely tempting and delicious. He took another bite, and just as Kaito promised, molten chocolate filling surged like lava across his taste buds, rich and slightly salty, slipping deep into his throat.

"Alright, the rest's all mine now... Edogawa, your leg is bleeding," Kaito said suddenly. "There__your calf, there's a cut. What happened?"

Conan swallowed the bite and answered, "...Got scraped during a dance yesterday."

"Who stepped on you?" Kaito pressed.

Conan replied helplessly, "Some pretentious thief, that's who."

Clearly, Meitantei had other priorities last night and forgot the wound entirely. Kaito put down the pastry box, jumped off the chair, ran to the kitchen to whisper to Agasa, then dashed back out with a first-aid kit in hand.

Ignoring Conan's protests, he pinned him to the sofa and made him sit.

"I can do it myself," Conan reached for the bandages. Who knew what this idiot might do to his leg? Or maybe not a real idiot.

"Absolutely not. What if it gets infected?" Kaito crouched down, opened the ointment and iodine bottles, pulled out cotton swabs, and refused to let Meitantei intervene. "You can't bandage properly by yourself. Let me help."

Apparently, Kaito had stepped on the detective's foot more than once during the dance, though Kudo Shinichi hadn't said a word, and KID hadn't noticed. Who would have thought the wound was this bad?

If he hadn't come this morning and discovered it... was Tantei-kun planning to just ignore it entirely?

Kaito gently eased Conan onto the sofa, lowering himself to one knee. He placed Conan's injured right leg across his own and, with painstaking care, began brushing the dust off the wound with a cotton swab. Conan, eyes steady, watched Kaito's delicate, precise fingers at work, then murmured, "Why did you pretend to be dumb in the first place?"

"Pretend to be dumb?"

"The midterms,and all the other exams." Conan said, watching the boy with uncanny attentiveness that was anything but clumsy.

"Ah... that. My grandfather told me to. Said when you enter a new environment, it's better not to show off too much." Kaito continued, "You know...... My father... was murdered. I was only two. My mother raised me alone until I was six, but eventually she couldn't stay. She left."

"You're only seven now," Conan softened, unaware his tone had warmed.

Kaito nodded. "My mother belongs to the sky, belongs to the wide wide world. At least, that's how Grandpa put it. He said no home could ever contain her. One full moon night, she left and never returned. Grandpa found me and took me in. Just a few weeks ago, he decided to move and have me transfer schools. My mom once told me... sometimes, the brightest minds meet the cruelest ends. Smart people often get into trouble."

Though the words sounded rehearsed, Conan knew this wasn't a tale a first-grader should be carrying.

"And... Edogawa-kun, I didn't mean to act dumb. I'm just okay at math and science. But life stuff? Grandpa takes care of everything. Plus, I'm clumsy. I fall a lot. Run into stuff."

"Is something wrong with your health?" Conan asked.

Kaito poured iodine over a swab. "Congenital heart disease... That's why I turned you down before. I didn't want to trouble anyone."

Conan watched the boy gently lift his foot to apply medicine. A wave of warmth surged through his chest. He smiled. "It's not trouble. I told you—if anything happens, come to me. No matter what it is, I'll protect you."

Kaito's hands paused, and a smirk flickered in his mind. Showing off again, are you, Meitantei?

With just enough malice, Kaito didn't warn Conan before dabbing the cotton directly onto the wound. The iodine stung like fire, making Conan wince and hiss through clenched teeth.

Kaito leisurely peeled open the adhesive bandage. "Why else do you think I play dumb?"

He applied the bandage delicately, his fingers grazing over it in one last gentle check. Then, his eyes met Conan's.

"I... I didn't mean to..." Conan looked away, flustered despite the boy before him being ten years younger. "Ishikawa-kun... you're not mad at me, right?"

"Why would I be mad? Who did you think I was?"

"Actually, I..." Conan hesitated. The urge to confess surged within him. It was senseless, telling Ishikawa Kaito who he really was. And yet, those clear blue eyes unraveled something in him. He swallowed hard.

"I suspect you're KID."

"?!!" Kuroba Kaito blinked, dumbfounded. He never expected Conan to drop that so casually. "Edogawa-kun, what are you saying?"

Conan sounded almost defeated, burdened by guilt. "I know it sounds absurd... Even now I think it's ridiculous. But... I'm not like the others. I... I'm actually..."

"You are?" Kaito tilted his head with a teasing glint. Conan opened his mouth but couldn't utter a single syllable. The word "Actually" hung in the air, dissolving into a sigh.

"Ishikawa-kun, I'm not just... a kid. Sorry, I cannot tell you now. But I promise that.......One day, I'll tell you."

Kaito didn't press any further. He packed up the first aid kit in silence. Conan couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you curious?"

"Of course I am. But Edogawa-kun, you're clearly different. Smarter. You know more. And—" The boy's eyes lit up like stars. He seized Conan's hands in his. "The moment you said you had a secret identity, I got so excited! It's like you're a hero straight out of a movie! So exciting!"

Conan chuckled....So Kids are still kids after all.

By the time they finished tidying the living room and first aid, it was already 7A.M., Conan and Kaito were getting ready to head to Teitan Elementary when a figure appeared outside the front door—a man in a suit, panting and holding a cardboard box.

"Wait! Boy! This is...for you. Hakuba-sama asked me to give this to you..."

He barely caught his breath as he handed the box to Conan. Kaito peeked over curiously. "What is it?"

Conan opened it. Nestled in bubble wrap lay a single glass slipper—the one Kaitou KID left behind at the masquerade.

"From Hakuba-san?" Conan whispered, swallowing as his fingers traced the delicate carvings and smooth, elegant arch.

"Yes. I'll take my leave now."

The man left, disappearing as quickly as he had arrived.

Kaito asked, "What is this? Why is it a glass slipper? Is this supposed to be Cinderella's shoe from the fairy tale?"

"Hmph—hardly anything so romantic," Conan replied, eyes half-lidded in annoyance. He shoved the slipper back into the bubble wrap, though noticeably gentle when placing it back by the entrance.

"Just a pretentious thief who likes dressing as a woman to flirt with people. That's all it is. Kaito... why are you laughing?"

Conan frowned as Kaito beamed brightly. "Your face is red."

"It is not!" Conan snapped. "That's just... that's the morning sun!"

Kaito kept his smile, nodding along playfully. "If Edogawa-kun says so... Then do you hate him? That thief who danced with you last night?"

Hate? Last night came flooding back like a crashing tide—those slender, graceful fingers pressed against his chest, that pair of sapphire eyes curved like crescent moons, ready to steal souls with a glance... the teasing, feather-light breath by his ear, that maddening allure, and the vow—bold, outrageous, unforgettable. My man.......In the midst of that treacherous dance, a white-clad figure shielding him at every step... and those rose-colored lips, luminous and inching closer, closer.

Meitantei...

Conan's eyes flicked to Kaito's lips. "I wouldn't say I hate him... But a criminal is still a criminal, and I'm a detective. One day, I will catch him with my own hands."

"And then?"

"And then?" Conan blinked, momentarily lost. "What do you mean, 'and then'?"

Kaito licked his lips, bathed in the intensifying glow of morning light. "In the fairy tale, the prince goes door to door with the glass slipper, trying to find its owner. Now that you have one, will you do the same?"

Kaito said it half-jokingly, but with an edge of intent—he had to find a way to get rid of that slipper. If Meitantei found any clue from it, just like Hakuba had once deduced an entire lineage from a stray strand of hair... Armageddon would not be far.

"That's ridiculous. And what exactly are you implying?" Conan sighed. Now that he knew Kaito wasn't actually a moron, what on earth was going on in that kid's head?

Kaito continued, "Besides... I see so many movies where the heros end up falling for the villains. They overcome all odds and end up together. So, what do you think your ending will be?"

"Ishikawa Kaito!" Edogawa Conan's face flushed a deep crimson. "This isn't some fairy tale. There is no 'happily ever after.' And what kind of nonsense are you spouting? There's no way I could ever fall for that pompous bastard!"

There is no way that I am going to fell in love with Kaitou KID, right?