Chapter Text
Kaito swears up and down and sideways that this is doubtlessly, wholeheartedly, completely not his fault.
And by "this" he of course means "running into a certain detective while at the grocery store on a random Friday afternoon."
Small mercies, however! Lady Luck doesn't seem to have abandoned him wholly yet; the great detective presumably hasn't noticed his presence, his back turned, occupied by something in his hands — so if Kaito just... shuffles away over to the next aisles to quietly gather everything he came here for without drawing his attention, then hightails it to the cash register and books it out of the store, it'd be as if Kaito was never there at all!
It should help that he's currently wearing a disguise — or, well, a "disguise". Does a layered skirt that reaches his knees and shoes with bows and some light make-up count as a disguise if he didn't bother with colored contacts or even a wig? He just had some light shopping to do, just a quick run before starting the weekend, and, sue him, he wanted to feel cute while doing it! Is this the hand the universe decided he needed to be dealt?
Remember, Kaito, act natural. Not all is lost yet, you can still salvage this. Poker face, don't act weird, and don't let him notice you noticed him. Everything's going to be fine!
Something that distinctively feels like a stare burns into him. He checks his peripheral vision without moving his head or eyes.
Yuuup, the great detective is totally staring.
Okay, that doesn't have to mean anything, let him be suspicious of Kaito, what does it matter! He's just going to continue doing what he came here to do. He pulls out his phone to check the list he made before leaving the house; cereal (which he ran out of the same morning), at least a few eggs (ran out of those yesterday), an assortment of snacks (Aoko is coming over to hang out tomorrow and he'll be a bad host if he doesn't give her something to eat, and the last heist exhausted his energy reserves so much he went on what could arguably be called a "binge" when he came home at the unholy hour of 2 in the morning), and—
Hm. It appears the detective is now just a tiny bit closer to Kaito than before. One step away from him, actually, if one were to specify the distance.
Still salvageable!
He very naturally turns his head towards his biggest source of woes of the day, putting his phone away just a fraction of a moment later to maintain the illusion of 'I am just an average person with no big secrets like moonlighting as a thief to hide, how dare you suggest such a thing'.
"Did you need something, little guy?"
Now the other is full on squinting. Kind of intensely, too, to be honest. Is this just a thing he does routinely, stare people down until they start talking? It looks kind of ridiculous considering it's a seven-years-old doing it, doubly so knowing that that's Shinichi Kudou, currently shrunken by some means still unknown to Kaito.
"..."
Keep your silence, then, detective! Kaito's good at this. He can keep playing his role the entire time, didn't you know? You don't get to be an elusive thief without learning a thing or two about pretending to be somebody else — and a bit of uncomfortable silence isn't what it takes to get the great Kaitou KID to start talking!
A beautiful total of fifteen seconds passes.
"What are you doing here, KID." At last, he speaks! "And why do you look like that?" He doesn't sound accusatory, really, outside of the 'KID' part — more curious than anything... Interesting. But that doesn't matter right now!
"Dunno what you're talking about, kid," Kaito replies, his tone perfectly conveying a sentiment that can only be described as 'good luck making me admit anything'. Of course, his voice is appropriately adapted to his clothing, which is to say he doesn't sound like himself at all and more like a run-of-the-mill sort-of-concerned teenage girl. "Did you need me to hand you over something from an upper shelf?" He carefully crouches to look at the other from his eye-level. "Did you come here alone? Where are your parents, kid?"
The detective does not look like he's buying it for even a moment.
Such a tough audience! Maybe this'll distract him...?
Kaito neither quickly nor slowly reaches a hand across and tousles his hair, enough that Conan will have to rearrange it afterwards.
His thoughts are generally disagreeing with this current course of action with such things as What are you doing!? and You are literally within kicking distance, you idiot! None of that shows on his face, though, so it's a win in his books, thank you poker face. Even the glare he gets for it isn't scaring him!
Conan then does that kind of inhale that people tend to do right before they say something and, knowing him, it's going to be that kind of rambling (sorry, "deducing") that unravels all there is to the situation until what's left is a boring, simple truth, plain and writhing at their feet under the fluorescent lights of the store, so Kaito beats him to it.
"Can't a guy just go grocery shopping in peace nowadays?" he whispers, still not daring to drop his voice back to its everyday pitch. He lets his hand stay on top of the other's head, but it's a gentler kind of touch, just pressure on hair, almost petting him. "Go elsewhere, detective. Any other store. Or find yourself a case to solve, or just plain leave me be, m'kay~? Plenty of choices to chose from!" he pairs the words with a smile that's just this side of playful instead of painful.
Conan has the gall to look contemplative. "And if I don't do any of these?" he throws out, defiantly, whispering back in the same hushed tones.
Kaito holds his smile back from widening; he just keeps on portraying the same expression, looking directly into Conan's eyes, and saying nothing. Okay, maybe he presses down on the other's head just a tiny bit, to remind him his hand's there, perhaps. His shamelessness (and sheer audacity) also allows him to actually pet the little guy; meaningless back-and-forths of his hand while wondering why the hell he was allowed— is being allowed— to do this.
"Hmm~?" he couldn't stop himself from humming.
The detective spends a grand total of ten seconds pretending to ponder his options before looking away and sighing. "Just go."
Kaito tousles his hair one last time for good measure and flashes him a KID-style grin, self-satisfied.
The rest of his time at the store is peacefully detective-less even though Conan stays inside, keeping his distance from Kaito consciously, never fully facing him; Kaito doesn't miss the glances thrown his way, though.
Huh!