Work Text:
A mystery is an intellectual game.
— No. More than that, it is a competition.
Minute details, elaborate schemes, various storylines; all of them interwoven with absolute care into a masterfully crafted puzzle.
From a young age, this is what mysteries are to Hakuba Saguru.
It is stimulating and engrossing, the way every lead eventually ties together into a solution. Orderly, clear, precise. Perfectly timed, cogs and gears that turn in unison within the larger machinery.
Seeing through the misdirection and unraveling the enigmas placed in front of him brings him immense joy. Making use of his own abilities, he revels in being able to bring the truth to light.
As with all things, investigations follow a clear pattern. Regardless of the nature of a mystery, the questions that lie at the core of the crime are always the same: The how, who, and why. Saguru, ever methodical, approaches each of them with careful calculation and exactitude.
No matter his opponent, he abides by the same principle.
There was no reason as to why Kaitou KID should have been any different.
When news regarding the elusive phantom thief make their way to London, it takes Saguru 35.19 seconds to decide that capturing KID is the next step to take.
Like all of the cases he has faced before it, apprehending this particular criminal is just another challenge to overcome. Another achievement to add to an ever-growing list. Another way to prove his worth.
Saguru travels halfway across the world with that in mind, only to find the first mystery he’s yet to solve.
On paper, it isn’t that difficult.
First, there is the how . When he thinks of KID’s methods, he considers that, in essence, it is all actually quite elementary. The secrets that lie behind KID’s magic tricks are not unlike the workings in a novel. Akin to what a mystery author does for their readers, the magician places a veil over the eyes of his audience. Fanfare and spectacle serve as a distraction as the crime unfolds in front of them. The single difference of importance resides at its resolution. A writer surprises his readers by revealing the hidden workings behind his trick. A magician, on the contrary, delights his audience by concealing them.
Perhaps he is a bit of a spoilsport, bringing deductions to a magic show. What he does is break through the illusion, chip away at it with logic, bring forth the mundane reality that hides beneath. When he initially confronts the thief on a snowy February night, he sees nothing but smoke and mirrors. He foresees every trick, and corners KID on their first encounter.
KID’s subsequent escape is less than stellar, and Saguru is convinced that despite flamboyant attire and feigned bravado, there is not a single thing of substance.
...But, what good is a correct deduction if he is unable to prevent the crime, let alone catch the criminal?
This brings him to the who. It is, he must admit, a much trickier issue than he had originally expected. That said, he finds comfort in the fact that his struggles are not due to a lack of a suspect.
Despite priding themselves on chasing KID for well over a decade —why they pride themelves on failing to capture a thief for this long is a greater mystery to Saguru than any— the information Nakamori Ginzo’s task force has managed to collect on the criminal is pitiful at best. Maybe the barrage of questions he throws in Nakamori’s direction isn’t wholly well-intentioned, but he’s still disappointed to acquire no details beyond the thief being “probably male”.
He meets the intolerable Kuroba Kaito shortly after his initial failure to apprehend his target.
His dark-haired classmate soon establishes himself to be on KID’s side; an admirer, a fan. This alone isn’t all too strange. Dashing rogues, charismatic rascals— it makes sense for the public to be swayed by the enigmatic appeal of such figures. Even if he can’t, won’t agree, he has long since stopped being bothered by the overwhelming support they received.
Instead, what eats at Saguru is that the thief’s enthusiast is far too quick to peg him as incompetent.
He looks at the other boy with a disingenuous smile and, falling back on a calm, honeyed tone, exalts the thief’s intellect if only to degrade Kuroba’s. In truth, he reckons they are probably quite similar. He suspects KID to be, without his tacky clothes and ostentatious illusions and devices, nothing but a risible fool.
It turns out that he is indeed.
What starts out as a vague similarity develops into a hunch. That hunch, next to the small traces and hints, turns into suspicion. The longer he spends alongside the teenage magician, the more suspicion becomes absolute conviction:
Kuroba Kaito, class clown, jokester, incorrigible idiot, is Kaitou KID.
Saguru would stake his life on it.
It is true he hasn’t been caught in the act and that Saguru lacks decisive evidence. The detective must concede on that point, but his multiple failures do not make his certainty waver. In fact, they only fuel his desire to unmask his adversary.
In the time he’s known him, there are a number of things Saguru has learned about Kuroba Kaito.
Seventeen years old, he stands at 174 centimeters and weighs 58 kilograms. Blood-type B. Born on June 21st, in the cusp of Gemini and Cancer zodiacs. 20/20 vision and numerous physical and mental faculties. Despite acting the fool, he possesses an IQ that surpasses the 400s. He is quick-minded and brilliant, but lacks discipline. Excels at voice mimicry, lock picking, and disguises. Cannot ice-skate. Has a driving license. His magic is an all encompassing hobby, if not his reason to live. He most enjoys disrupting class with tasteless pranks and skits. If Nakamori Aoko is to be believed, which seems wise, he has an aversion to fish. His classmates attest to a talent at skiing. Whether he favours one sports team over another remains unknown. His body is lithe, well-suited for his acrobatic stunts. Even so, he’s partial to sweets. Chocolate, in particular, is something he enjoys to eat. The vulgar nature of some of his jokes imply an interest in women. Even so, Koizumi Akako’s numerous charms seem to elude him. He is well-liked amongst girls in the school, but he seems especially fond of his childhood friend and neighbour.
It’s rather vexing. Saguru has jotted down all of these things and yet...
Somehow, it feels as if he has yet to learn anything at all.
He’s stuck in an endless void, damned by his insatiable curiosity. The more he learns, the more questions he wants to ask. The more he wishes he could make sense of the thief. The closer he yearns to get in order to do so.
So, it all comes down to the why, doesn’t it?
Why is it that you steal? What is it all for?
Now, isn’t it your job to find out?
Yes, shedding light on the criminal’s motive is part of the detective’s job.
Saguru is perfectly capable of doing so, that isn’t the problem. With the evidence that’s left behind, it is always possible to make an educated guess.
The problem lies in the nebulous concept that “motivation” entails to begin with. Objectively, rationally, he may possess the knowledge of the circumstances that led a person to commit a crime. However, there is rarely anything rational about the feelings that surround those circumstances. Feelings are messy, erratic, abstract. Immeasurable and unquantifiable. The numbers and calculations he relies on so heavily prove to be ineffectual.
This begs the question, even if Saguru may deduce a motive, can he say he fully understands it?
Probably not in good conscience, even if he may wish to.
Once he’s found a culprit, asking them typically brings some sense of closure.
How ironic, that the single person he wishes to figure out the most refuses to answer.
How comical, that he’s always out of reach.
Kaitou KID follows a careful pattern when it comes to his thefts. His targets - typically gems of some kind - are returned not long after being stolen. The obvious explanation to such behaviour would revolve around him doing so for the thrill, for attention, as a way to test and showcase his skills.
But, that feels wrong.
It feels wrong because he knows the person hiding behind the disguise. Or, he would at least like to believe that he knows him.
Kuroba is selfish, obnoxious, immature. He is all of these detestable things, and many more, but he isn’t cruel . If anything, his classmate may be more annoyingly compassionate than Saguru may ever come to be. In the end, all of his absurdity is done with a playful joviality that tries to make everyone around him smile.
Why thievery is important to Kuroba; why he insists on risking his life for it; why he’d be willing to put his dearest friend and the man who acts as his foster father under the emotional strain of chasing a famous criminal. Saguru may hypothesize about such things to his heart’s content, but he’s aware that no theory he’s able to concoct will satisfy his ever-growing curiosity until he hears it from the one in question.
And it becomes a problem.
A disease.
Saguru realises there is so much Kaitou KID— no, that’s a lie, Kuroba Kaito — plaguing his brain, that it clouds his judgement and reasoning entirely.
This becomes painfully clear during that incident with Hattori Heiji.
It needs to stop.
At first, he tries to distance himself in order to regain objectivity and clarity. The proper part of him considers the possibility gracefully admitting defeat and retreating.
He instantly knows that it is a non-option. Both his body and his mind recoil at the thought of forfeiting whatever it is the dark-haired boy brings. Even when he stands halfway across the ocean, preoccupied with completely unrelated matters, his thoughts continue to trail back to his loathsome classmate.
Saguru hates it. The way whenever he talks to Kuroba, whenever he sees him, whenever he thinks about him, his heart leaps with the excitement of a chase. It's an incomprehensible wave of emotion that makes him doubt the why behind his own actions.
Further thought brings him to three mortifying realizations.
First, even if he wants to, he can't possibly stay away.
Second, he cannot abide by the idea of Kaitou KID being anyone’s but his alone to catch.
Third, Kuroba Kaito has ruined him completely.
“Oi, Hakuba.”
“Hm?” Saguru blinks. The familiar voice snaps him out of the trance he’s been immersed in. After finding that he’s sitting in the empty classroom of Ekoda Highschool, long after classes have concluded for the day, it takes him a second longer than usual to focus on the boy standing in front of him, “Oh, Kuroba-kun.”
“Aren’t you usually gone by now?” The question isn’t a strange one but, as usual, his classmate’s tone is conflictive. Saguru knows by now that Kuroba has no interest in approaching him if not to antagonise him. “Psh, figures. ‘Course a useless detective like you would be wasting time lounging around like this.”
“To be frank, I don’t see how my business could be of any interest to you.” With a sigh, Saguru closes the book he had been pretending to read and places it face down on the desk. He laces his fingers and looks up at Kuroba, a shadow of a smile beginning to form at the corner of his mouth. “There’s been a minor delay in my schedule. I am simply waiting until Baaya arrives.”
“Seriously? That’s new.” Blue eyes look back at him, incredulous. Considering Saguru’s penchant for punctuality, he supposes the scepticism is fair. Even so, Kuroba makes no further attempt to question it. Instead, the magician swiftly grabs the unattended book and starts flipping through the pages. “Sheesh, don’t you ever get tired of these?”
What Kuroba holds in his hands is yet another crime novel. One of the many Saguru has read. One of the hundreds he is determined to read throughout his life. “Not really.” He says, “They put my mind at work. It’s a useful exercise, to test myself by deciphering the secrets in the heart of a story.”
“Huh. Sounds like you.” Kuroba responds flatly, eyes narrowed at whatever passage he skims through. At last, he closes the book and brings it to his chest, clutching tightly at it. “ I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation. ”
Saguru only stares at the magician as he uses that odious, mocking intonation filled with faux dramatism to quote one of Conan Doyle’s novels. “...Or something pretentious like that.” Kuroba adds. He lowers the book to his side and glances at him, eyes filled with an emotion the young sleuth can only assume is spite. “That’s why you’re after KID too, right? To prove how smart you are?”
Ah.
Without allowing his annoyance to seep into any part of his expression, the Brit remains silent and allows his classmate to continue.
“And then, if you caught him —you won’t, by the way— you’d just get bored right after and move on to the next thing.” Kuroba yawns and stretches. The way he looks away before Saguru is able to respond emphasizes his disinterest. “‘Cause you’ve already “solved” him and proved your point or whatever.”
The final comment makes the English detective tense up. Even though the dark-haired teen appears intent on looking away, Saguru’s eyes remain fixed on Kuroba. He searches for any trace of an explanation as to why the magician would choose to taunt him this way.
You’re such an idiot.
“Hey, Kuroba-kun.” The silence between them lasts three seconds too long, and it is Saguru’s turn to break it. Then, his small semblance of amusement slowly gives way to a full smirk, “Why, pray tell, do you think I like Holmes as much as I do?”
“Eh?” Kuroba is surprised by the nature of the question. He frowns, and seems to seriously contemplate it for a moment, but still voices a half-assed answer, “Because justice or truth or logic or something?”
“The truth is,” Saguru muses, “I probably know Holmes better than I do my own father.”
It may be because he says it so bluntly, nonchalantly, unexpectedly, but the way this statement catches the other teen off-guard gives him a high degree of satisfaction. Saguru takes a second to chuckle softly at the look of his classmate’s bewilderment before proceeding.
“Everything there is to know about Holmes is contained within the pages of his stories.” The blond cocks his head to the side, choosing the words that follow as carefully as he can, “But, he still is a character in literature. He’s not real.”
If Kuroba caught the reference to their first meeting, he doesn’t let it show. Saguru nods quietly and concludes, “Thus, the same can’t be said for a breathing, living person.”
Saguru stops talking, his classmate makes his impatience known, urging him to keep going, “...Your point?”
“All this to say that I believe…” There’s another chuckle, but the smug grin disappears. Instead, Saguru feels his own tone become somewhat sorrowful, “Unlike characters in a story, you could spend an entire lifetime with someone, and still never fully get to know them.”
People are far more complex, more perplexing, more fascinating than he used to imagine. There's so much to learn, a lifetime would never be enough.
Needless to say, it can be overwhelming.
So, it is comforting, sometimes, to see a fragment of that chaos neatly arranged and encompassed in the convenient package of a mystery story. A place where there are no important questions left unanswered, no lingering doubts.
But, Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent.
The longer he spends chasing KID, Kuroba, Kaito , the more obvious this becomes.
“That’s pretty cynical of you, isn’t it?” No longer trying to feign indifference, Kuroba now faces him properly. The gesture, so miniscule, so insignificant, fills Saguru with a warmth he still finds himself unable to name.
“Perhaps.” The detective agrees. He pushes his seat back and stands up. “There is a certain loneliness to that prospect, no?”
“However, inversely…” With every word he speaks, Saguru takes one step towards Kuroba. The magician stands his ground, not once averting his eyes. “It also means that no matter how much you learn about them, no matter how strongly you may believe that you have solved them, as you say…”
By the time he stops moving, Saguru is well aware that he’s standing all too closely to Kuroba. He takes the time to examine him. To take in the length of his lashes and the shape of his brows. The way his eyelids are halfway closed and his lips are slightly agape. “...They’ll never cease to amaze you.”
“Is…” Kuroba finally breathes out, still defiant, making no indication of moving away, “Is that how you feel about KID?”
“No.” Saguru’s answer comes as barely more than a hoarse, hushed whisper. He inches closer, ever-so-slightly, and comes to a halt halfway through.
Maybe this is just how it’s fated to be. To stand in painful proximity, frozen in place, never touching. Even when they stand close enough to hear and feel the other’s breathing, the distance between them is infinite and insurmountable.
It would appear that, alone, this is as far as Saguru is able to go.
So, when he opens his mouth to speak again, the words are lost in his throat.
It’s how I feel about you.
“ — Kaito! Hurry up already!” Nakamori Aoko calls from the hallway, and it brings Saguru back to his senses. The moment Kuroba’s childhood friend enters the classroom, the detective has already placed an appropriate distance between him and the other boy. Still, Nakamori lets out a small, surprised gasp when she sees him, “Oh, Hakuba-kun!”
“Nakamori-san.” Saguru turns towards the girl with this usual, polite smile as he begins to collect his belongings. All in all, he finds he is grateful for the sudden interruption. “You’re walking Kuroba-kun back home, are you? Please take care, you two.”
As if on cue, Saguru catches a glimpse of his family car arriving into the premises. He quietly thanks for the timely escape route. “Ah, that must be Baaya, I believe.” The blond picks up his bag and waves at both of them. “Well then, farewell.”
“Hey! Hakuba, wait—”
Whatever else Kuroba says to him falls on deaf ears. Something about the book the detective left behind, most likely. During the ride home, Saguru tells himself that this is all there is to it.
His mind tells him that the flush he saw growing across his classmate's face was nothing more but a trick brought upon by the afternoon sun. That the magician won’t ever look at him with nothing more than disdain and contempt. That he owes the burning feeling in his chest to nothing more than scientific curiosity. Because this is what aligns with the data he possesses. Because entertaining any other thought would make him incur in a logical fallacy. Because this is the one thing where he can't afford being mistaken. Rationality tells him he shouldn’t dare hope for anything different.
His heart, however, happily basks in getting lost within the endless labyrinth that is Kuroba Kaito.