Chapter Text
Disclaimer: Detective Conan and Kaitou Kid are the property of Gosho Aoyama. I do not profit in any way from writing this fanfiction. This story contains spoilers for Detective Conan and Kaitou Kid, and includes quotations from the manga, anime, official wikis, and other sources.
Waldszenen
Chapter I
“You want to surprise Edogawa by just turning up without telling him?” Miyano Shiho, also known as Haibara Ai, asked the Detective Boys, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes!” they chorused in unison, practically bouncing with excitement.
“Edogawa might be busy,” she warned, her tone patient but firm.
“Conan-kun is always busy these days!” Ayumi muttered, her lip trembling slightly. “He never plays with us anymore.”
“And he went to London over the holidays too!” Genta added, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice.
Kudou had returned laden with souvenirs: a classic Paddington Bear, tins of candy and chocolate in the quintessentially British style, a London-themed shirt, and more. He, or rather his mother on his behalf, hadn’t forgotten the Burberry purse Shiho had been hinting at forever—thankfully, or she would have teased him mercilessly. He had even brought back Swiss chocolate. England alone hadn’t been enough for Kudou; the Holmes fanatic had insisted on visiting Reichenbach Falls as well.
“That’s why we have to go to his house now!” Genta said, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Yeah!” Mitsuhiko chimed in, nodding vigorously.
Shiho exhaled softly, inwardly sighing.
Of course Kudou didn’t have time to play with the Detective Boys on weekends anymore. He had someone special now—his boyfriend. Unlike her, living under Professor Agasa’s watchful eye, Kudou had no one who truly understood his double life, no one who treated him as an adult capable of his own choices. Hattori Heiji was far away in Osaka, leaving Kudou to navigate his life alone, constantly forced to appear like a child to the world. Having Kuroba by his side must feel like a dream realised. With Kuroba, he didn’t have to hide behind any masks. He could just be Kudou Shinichi, no matter what he looked like.
“Please, Ai-chan,” Ayumi pleaded, her big eyes wide with hope.
Shiho’s lips pressed into a thin line. She glanced at the eager faces before her—Genta practically vibrating, Mitsuhiko bouncing, and Ayumi’s pleading stare—and felt her resolve crumble.
“Fine,” she relented, though her sigh hinted at the storm she anticipated. “But don’t get yourselves into trouble.”
“Yes!” the children cheered, practically tumbling over one another in their excitement.
Shiho shook her head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “You lot are impossible,” she muttered. Yet even as she said it, she couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at the thought of seeing Kudou’s reaction.
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“Surprise!” the children shouted as Kudou opened the door of Kogoro Mouri’s agency, practically tumbling over each other in their excitement.
Kudou blinked, taken aback. For a moment, he just stood there, perfectly composed, yet Shiho noticed a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth—the tiniest sign of surprise.
Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi charged into the agency, leaving Kudou in the doorway, frozen like a statue.
“Do we disturb your… date?” Shiho asked carefully, tilting her head. Her eyes flickered briefly toward Kuroba, sitting casually on the couch.
“There’s no date,” Kudou said smoothly, though his tone lacked conviction.
Shiho raised an eyebrow. The evidence was glaring: Kuroba Kaito lounged with effortless charm, his leg crossed, eyes glinting as if he’d been expecting them. From the kitchen, the soft hum of Ran’s and Sonoko’s voices floated through, mingling with the faint scent of freshly baked lemon pie.
“Kaito-niisan!” the children exclaimed, practically crowding around him.
“Hi!” Kuroba greeted, his usual easy grin spreading across his face. His eyes flicked toward Kudou for a split second, sharp and calculating, before returning to the children. Kudou, however, remained perfectly neutral, shaking his head as if to say not now.
“Kaito-niisan! Show us a magic trick!” Ayumi’s eyes sparkled, full of anticipation.
“Yeah!” Genta added, practically bouncing on the spot.
Kuroba tapped his chin theatrically, feigning deep thought. “Alright,” he said at last, voice smooth and playful.
“Yes!” the children cheered, clapping their hands.
Shiho turned and started to slip away.
“Where are you going?” Kudou asked, noticing her movement.
“To the toilet,” she replied lightly, brushing past him.
“It’s over there,” he said, nodding.
“I know,” she said with a small smile. She had been here enough times to navigate the place blindfolded—the toilet sat conveniently beside the kitchen.
“Ai-chan,” Ran’s cheerful voice called from the kitchen. Shiho turned to see Ran smiling warmly. “Are you here with the others?”
“Yes,” Shiho replied simply. “We’re going to play football.”
“Good,” Sonoko said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Then it’s only us.”
“Sonoko!” Ran exclaimed, scolding her friend immediately.
Sonoko shrugged, her grin widening. “It’s us, Aoko, and Kaito-kun!”
“Sonoko-chan!” Aoko protested, cheeks flushed.
Shiho’s gaze drifted to Aoko’s delicate necklace. “It’s really pretty,” she commented softly.
Aoko smiled, fingers brushing the pendant. “It’s a White Day gift from Kaito,” she said, eyes sparkling with genuine happiness.
“You got the best White Day gift out of all of us,” Sonoko muttered, earning giggles from both girls.
Shiho recognised the Swarovski necklace immediately—it caught the light beautifully, each facet sparkling like ice in the soft kitchen glow.
“I know!” Sonoko suddenly exclaimed. “You and Kaito-kun should go to Tokyo Skytree! We can shop at Solamachi, and then…” She gave Aoko a sly grin. “You and Kaito-kun can have dinner at La Sora Seed. So romantic!”
Shiho’s mind flickered. La Sora Seed—31st floor, East Yard, glass ceiling giving a sweeping view of Tokyo Skytree. Kudou had been there already with Kuroba. Lunch. Fine dining. Romance practically baked in.
“Ah, Conan-kun,” Ran said suddenly.
Shiho had forgotten that Kudou had followed her into the kitchen. She turned, startled, and found him standing quietly by the counter. His face was perfectly neutral and innocent, betraying none of the thoughts that must have raced through his mind after overhearing the previous conversation.
His eyes flickered briefly—not at Aoko herself, but at the delicate necklace around her neck. Shiho suspected he was comparing it silently with the violin Kuroba had given him, analysing its significance in his precise, analytical way.
“Looking for the pie?” Ran asked cheerfully, glancing at him.
Kudou inclined his head. “Yes, Ran-neechan,” he replied politely.
On the kitchen counter sat two neatly packed boxes from a renowned Tokyo bakery, the aroma of freshly baked lemon filling the air.
“Kaito said we shouldn’t come empty-handed,” Aoko explained, a hint of curiosity in her tone. “Though I don’t know why he chose lemon pie of all things.”
Of course. Lemon pie. As Kudou Shinichi, he had never had much of a sweet tooth—except for this particular dessert. And as Edogawa Conan, he had perfected the act of loving sweets, just like any ordinary child. Shiho knew immediately what was really happening: this was a carefully calculated gesture from Kuroba, a subtle move to placate Kudou, ensuring he wouldn’t become irritated.
“They’re ready now,” Ran said, her hands carefully arranging the slices on small plates, the aroma of fresh lemon and buttery pastry filling the kitchen.
“I can take it, Ran-neechan,” Kudou offered, his movements calm, precise, and deliberate. He lifted the tray as if it were weightless, every gesture exuding quiet composure.
“Thank you, Conan-kun,” Ran replied, her tone warm.
Carrying the tray with steady hands, Kudou returned to the living room. Shiho slipped away to the toilet, her mind already half on the children’s antics waiting outside.
When she returned, the room was buzzing. Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi were eagerly recounting their plan to Kuroba, animated gestures punctuating every sentence. Kudou, by contrast, was perfectly still, his dark eyes quietly studying every interaction with analytical precision.
“We’re going to play football!” Genta bellowed, practically punching the air in excitement.
Ayumi nodded vigorously, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.
“Oh, really?” Kuroba said, his grin teasing, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Yes!” Genta replied confidently, puffing out his chest.
“Are you any good?” Kuroba asked, tilting his head in mock curiosity.
“Conan-kun is the best player in our school,” Ayumi said proudly, pointing at Kudou.
“Can we go to the park now?” Genta asked impatiently, tapping his foot like a small drumbeat of anticipation.
Kuroba’s eyes flicked to Kudou. Kudou returned his gaze with a single, measured look, and Kuroba’s mischievous grin softened instantly, almost imperceptibly.
“Why don’t I go with you guys?” Kuroba offered, folding his arms casually.
“Really?” The children’s faces lit up, eyes sparkling like fireworks.
“That’s great!” Genta said, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Yes!” Ayumi cheered, clapping her small hands.
“Let’s go, Kaito-niisan!” they chorused, practically tumbling over each other in their eagerness.
The commotion drew Ran and Sonoko out from the kitchen.
“Eh?” Ran said, her brows knitting in surprise. “Playing football?”
“But, Kaito-kun…” Sonoko began, clearly disappointed.
Unfortunately, Kuroba had already made a promise to the children, leaving the girls with no choice.
“You can go shopping at the mall,” Kuroba said smoothly, looking at Aoko. “I’m going to play football with them. Text me when you’re done, okay?”
“Fine,” Aoko said, a small smile tugging at her lips, resigned but amused.
“We’re off then,” Kuroba said, giving a mock salute before leading the children out.
“Bye, everyone!” Ayumi called, waving frantically.
“Football! Here we come!” Genta shouted, dragging Mitsuhiko behind him as if he were part of the team.
Shiho stood quietly beside Kudou, watching the scene unfold with keen interest. She couldn’t help but marvel at the effortless way Kudou had used the children to steer Kuroba away from Aoko. Smooth, calculated, precise—the kind of manoeuvre only a true genius could pull off. She had learned long ago never to underestimate that kind of brilliance.
And yet, the truth remained. Kuroba and Aoko had been childhood friends, their bond stretching back many years. Aoko had once harboured a crush on him, and Kuroba had, in his own way, reciprocated. Then he had become Kaitou Kid, the phantom thief whose audacious heists constantly foiled her father’s investigations. Aoko despised Kid wholeheartedly—and Kuroba knew it, no doubt taking that knowledge into account in every interaction.
Shiho wasn’t certain why Kuroba had chosen to embrace the mantle of Kaitou Kid. Perhaps it was thrill, perhaps strategy—but she was certain it had been deliberate. And she knew that once Kuroba achieved whatever goal he had set for himself as Kid, he could abandon the life of the phantom thief. He could return to Aoko, to the life he had left behind, without difficulty.
Yet, Shiho had a sinking feeling he wouldn’t. She remembered a line she had read long ago: A man is lucky if he is a woman’s first love. A woman is lucky if she is a man’s last.
She let the thought settle in her mind, watching Kudou and Kuroba with careful attention. Beneath the playful chaos, beneath the laughter and teasing, there were subtle currents at work—small gestures, glances, and movements that only someone truly observant could notice. And Shiho, ever the watcher, knew better than most how much could be communicated without a single word.
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They arrived at Beika Park about half an hour later, the crisp afternoon air filled with the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant chatter of families enjoying the weekend.
Shiho, Ayumi, and Kudou were on one team, while Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Kuroba formed the opposing side.
From the very first whistle, it was clear who dominated the game. Kudou weaved through the children effortlessly, his movements precise and fluid, leaving everyone else scrambling to keep up.
“Conan-kun always wins,” Ayumi said in admiration, her eyes wide with awe.
“It’s not fair!” Genta grumbled, kicking at the turf in frustration.
“Yeah!” Mitsuhiko nodded miserably. “We always lose!”
“Oi! Oi!” Kudou protested lightly, though there was no mistaking the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You guys need to practise more,” Shiho suggested, though even she knew it wouldn’t make much difference.
“It’s no use,” Mitsuhiko muttered under his breath. And he was right—Kudou was naturally talented. Shiho couldn’t help but recall that as Kudou Shinichi, he had participated in the National Junior High School football championships, where Teitan had finished as runner-up.
Just as the children began to slump in defeat, Kuroba’s voice cut through the tension. “What about ice cream?” he asked, gesturing towards a brightly coloured stall across the park. “My treat,” he added with a grin.
“Yes!” the children cheered, abandoning all previous complaints as they sprinted to the stall in gleeful unison.
Kudou rolled his eyes, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Kuroba smiled crookedly, knowingly. Shiho’s curiosity prickled—was this just a spontaneous act, or a calculated performance? With Kuroba, it was impossible to tell.
“I want strawberry ice cream,” Ayumi said, bouncing slightly on her heels.
“Chocolate ice cream!” Genta shouted, nearly knocking over his own cone in his excitement.
“I want chocolate too,” Mitsuhiko added.
“Ogura ice cream,” Shiho said calmly, settling on her favourite flavour.
“Chocolate ice cream,” Kuroba said, leaning slightly towards Genta with a playful glint in his eyes. “Triple scoops.”
“What?” the boy protested in disbelief.
“That’s cheating!”
“We want three scoops too!” Mitsuhiko piped up, pointing at Kuroba.
“Everyone can have three scoops,” Kuroba declared with a flourish, and the children’s delight was instantaneous, their laughter and cheers filling the park.
Kuroba was undeniably good with children. But as always, Shiho felt a twinge of uncertainty—was he being genuinely playful, or was this yet another carefully orchestrated performance?
“And coffee ice cream for this one,” Kuroba added, nodding towards Shiho.
The children were too busy enjoying their own treats to pay him any mind.
Now, Kudou and Kuroba stood slightly apart, talking quietly, their smiles relaxed and genuine. Shiho watched them, noting the small gestures—the way Kudou’s eyes softened when Kuroba teased him, the subtle tilt of Kuroba’s head when Kudou laughed. The easy camaraderie between them was evident; it seemed the trip to London had drawn them even closer, if that was still possible.
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Football and ice cream done, Ayumi, Genta, and Mitsuhiko were easily satisfied with the outing. They didn’t protest at all when Kudou told them that he and Kuroba needed to head back.
“Bye, Ai-chan!” Ayumi called cheerfully.
“Bye, Conan!” Genta waved energetically.
“See you at school!” Mitsuhiko added, bouncing slightly with excitement.
“Thanks, Kaito-niisan!” they chorused in unison, their voices fading as Kudou and Kuroba waved back.
To Shiho’s mild surprise, the two of them walked her home. That surprise quickly shifted to mild annoyance when she realised they weren’t just escorting her—they seemed intent on spending more time there. Kudou had his own house, but with Okiya Subaru currently occupying it, he had been forced to seek refuge at Professor Agasa’s residence. Shiho inwardly sighed at the thought of having these two linger longer in her home.
“I’m home,” she called as they stepped through the front door.
“Welcome back!” Professor Agasa replied from the living room, his hands busy tinkering with a small mechanical device. The television flickered in the background, broadcasting the evening news.
“Shinichi, Kaito-kun,” he added cheerfully, glancing at the two boys.
“Hello, Professor,” Kudou said politely, his usual calm tone carrying just a hint of amusement.
Kuroba grinned broadly, his eyes twinkling with his trademark mischievousness.
“Back so soon?” Professor Agasa asked, looking slightly puzzled.
“Yes,” Shiho replied simply, trying to keep her expression neutral.
Professor Agasa, entirely absorbed in his work, waved a hand toward Kudou. “Ah, Shinichi, could you help me check this?”
“Sure, Professor,” Kudou replied, moving over to the table with a quiet efficiency that contrasted sharply with Kuroba’s relaxed presence.
Shiho glanced at Kuroba, who now stood alone beside her, leaning casually against the wall. His grin was both playful and knowing, as if he had every intention of making her evening more…interesting. She folded her arms, bracing herself for whatever antics he might have planned.
“You and the Great Detective are deeply involved in something…big, aren’t you?” he asked, voice smooth, teasing, yet edged with curiosity.
“Ask no questions and hear no lies,” she replied coldly, her tone clipped, eyes unwavering.
Kuroba tilted his head, clearly amused. Shiho knew that suave, almost hypnotic act—the one that made Kaitou Kid a legend among fans, especially female admirers—worked wonders. Even she had to admit, Kid was fascinating, brilliant, utterly captivating in the way he commanded attention without seeming to try.
Changing tack, she asked cautiously, “What are you doing with Kudou?”
They had never been alone before, and she wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.
“When two people who like each other are involved in a relationship, it’s called dating,” Kuroba replied smoothly, his lips curling into that infuriatingly self-assured smile.
“You make it sound so…simple,” Shiho said finally, crossing her arms. “Just like that, you’re ‘dating’ him?” She kept her tone neutral, but the question carried more than curiosity—it was a test.
Kuroba’s grin widened. “Why make things complicated?” he replied lightly. “We like each other. That’s all anyone really needs to know.”
Shiho tilted her head, studying him. His ease was infuriating—and undeniably magnetic. She could see why Kudou, despite his usual reserve, would be drawn to someone like Kuroba: clever, confident, always in control, yet…a little reckless in the most charming way.
“However, I’m not denying that I am attracted to his mind,” Kuroba added simply. His smile was warm, almost playful, but his eyes were sharp and calculating, alert to everything, missing nothing.
Shiho’s brow furrowed slightly, surprised at the candour of his answer. She knew better than to trust him blindly. Kuroba was a master actor when it suited him, a genius thief who always stayed two steps ahead of the police, able to manipulate people and circumstances to achieve his goals. He was dangerous, and yet…there was no denying his brilliance.
The thought struck her: if Kudou and Kuroba were ever to take their relationship seriously, it would be a fascinating, unpredictable alliance.
“That intelligence he possesses,” Kuroba continued, his grin widening, “together, we’d be unstoppable.”
Shiho snorted softly, unable to suppress a small smile at the audacity of the statement.
“I also happen to like him very much,” he added, his gaze locking onto hers, earnest yet teasing all at once.
Shiho narrowed her eyes, studying him carefully, weighing every word. “Why are you telling me all of this?” she asked at last, her voice quiet but steady.
Shiho’s eyes flicked toward Kudou, who stood a few steps away, quietly observing the interaction with his usual calm. His expression was unreadable, yet the faint curve of his lips betrayed the slightest amusement. He didn’t need words; the subtle shift in his stance toward Kuroba spoke volumes—a silent affirmation of trust, understanding, and the unspoken bond between them.
Haibara didn’t get a chance to respond before Kudou returned, his voice calm but alert. “So, what are you both talking about?” he asked, glancing from Shiho to Kuroba.
“Oh, we’re talking about you, obviously,” Kuroba replied airily, his signature grin teasingly smug.
Kudou merely rolled his eyes.
The television in the background ran the evening news. The anchor’s voice was crisp and formal.
“Queen Elisabeth of Ingram will visit Japan for four days. Ingram, officially the Principality of Ingram, is a German-speaking microstate in Central Europe. It is a constitutional monarchy headed by Queen Elisabeth. The Queen will arrive this Wednesday at Haneda Airport, beginning her official tour of Japan.”
The screen displayed an image of Queen Elisabeth standing beside her young son, the Crown Prince Philip, a small boy of seven, standing stiffly at her side.
“The visit aims to highlight Ingram’s ties with Japan and will focus on promoting innovation, trade, creativity, and tourism. The Queen will bring her only son on this visit. Additionally, the Queen will wear the Crystal Mother, the famed largest topaz in the world, belonging to the royal family of Ingram.”
The camera shifted to a close-up of the jewel, the light catching its flawless facets.
“Interesting,” Kuroba murmured, his eyes lighting up with barely concealed excitement as they lingered on the gem.
Kudou let out a low sigh, already anticipating the thief’s thoughts. Even Shiho could read him—Kuroba was planning to steal it. From a foreign dignitary, no less. He had nerve, that one.
“Come on,” Kudou said, tugging gently at Kuroba’s sleeve. “We need to talk.” He sounded resigned, yet firm, as if he were about to try talking the thief out of another audacious heist.
The next day, Shiho wasn’t at all surprised to see the news: Kaitou Kid had officially announced that he would attempt to steal the Crystal Mother. Neither was Kudou.
Shiho had already noticed this pattern. Since their first meeting at the ski resort, Kudou never reacted with shock or surprise whenever Kuroba sent his heist notes. It meant only one thing: Kuroba always informed Kudou beforehand, a silent agreement between them. Kudou had Kuroba firmly leashed, even if no one else realized it. Even Kudou himself, in a way, didn’t fully acknowledge it.
Shiho, however, had no intention of interfering. She would simply sit back and watch. After all…she had to get her entertainment from somewhere.
Author’s Note:
Hello, everyone! Thank you for reading my fanfic. I’d love to hear your thoughts, so please feel free to leave a comment or a review.
Waldszenen ("Forest Scenes"), Opus 82, is a set of nine short solo piano pieces composed by Robert Schumann.