Chapter Text
Today’s heist has been really weird. Weird enough that Officer Nakamura of the Kaitou Kid taskforce wants to sit everyone down and reevaluate the advance notice they’ve received, just in case it was a fake. Except, Nakamura was part of the group authenticating the note, he knows without a shred of doubt that the note is the real deal.
That, and as part of this specialized taskforce, he has a little bit of pride to keep.
Because the way this heist is going is weird, yes. But weird in a sense that they’ve never been this successful before. They are incredibly lucky today, even 30 minutes before the announced time, sightings have been reported, suspicious movements and bound officers are found, loose ventilation covers are discovered, planted smoke bombs are disabled.
All this luck compounded to the Kaitou Kid revealing himself around 5 minutes early, standing proudly on his target’s glass casing with a smirk as he assessed the group of officers surrounding him. And from here, he’s sure the heist is only going to get weirder.
From his position standing slightly to the right and behind Nakamori-Keibu, Officer Nakamura can’t help but notice how… odd Kaitou Kid looked.
Sure, the thief is a master of disguise. The taskforce has learned to take any witness statements regarding the thief’s appearance with a grain of salt, especially after that one heist with Kid wearing Nakamori-Keibu’s daughter’s face. But within the eye-catching white suit that he wears, Kid has a standard appearance that he likes to keep.
Soft rounded face, clean shaven, non-distinct average height, slender built, boyish charms, mischievous smirks, and dexterous magician hands beneath white silk gloves.
The man in front of them is none of that. Sure, he’s displaying the same show-stopping magic skills that placed the gem into his hands within a tap of his heels, but everything else is wrong. A sharp face, thin mustache, a tall and strong build, an old gentleman’s charm, and a condescending playful smirk as if one is playing with children.
“You’re early,” Nakamori-Keibu protests, “... Kaitou Kid!” That hesitance in his call, it seems Nakamura wasn’t the only one to take notice of this oddity, though there’s a hint of confused familiarity in Nakamori-Keibu’s expression. He doesn’t know what observation can stump the inspector like so, but he would chalk that up to Nakamori-keibu’s seniority and experiences.
In front of them, the false Kid started talking. “Forgive me, Nakamori-Keibu,” he engages in familiar banter, but even that sounded wrong. “It seems there was some interference during today’s heist.”
And if this Kid’s appearance is alarming, his voice is even more so.
Nakamura isn’t sure what is different but he knows.
It’s too deep, too gravely, too old. It’s too different.
For once Officer Nakamura really wished Hakuba was around to validate this feeling. He could probably pinpoint the different pitch and speech pattern that would prove this Kid is false.
For now, all he could conclude is that,
It’s wrong.
Subconsciously, most officers take a more defensive stance. Criminals tend to be violent after all, and just because their Kid is safe enough for them to focus on offense does not mean his imitators are the same.
Their open hostility definitely catches the false Kid’s attention though, especially when Nakamori-Keibu unconsciously reaches into his gun holster. The man in front of them laughs as he points it out, “Really Keibu?” he asks, “It hasn’t even been 10 years and you’ve forgotten me?”
And everyone pauses, because nearly 10 years ago was Kid’s first disappearance. Does that mean… the one they’ve been chasing this past year, the only one Officer Nakamura has ever chased, was the imitator all along?
No one got time to ponder over those words, not when familiar pink smoke covers the false, no, the old? Let’s stick with that for now. Pink smoke covers the old Kid, simmering to reveal the man empty handed and tied by a line of colorful scarves. The man only sighs, making the scarves go slack with a snap of his hands.
“It seems it is time for me to go. Junior does not appreciate me taking back my own name,” The old Kid bids farewell, though not before glaring at a specific officer to his right, standing opposite the case from where Nakamura stands. “I should go before he decides to run more interference.”
With that, the old Kid vanishes with a bang, leaving the taskforce to stare at the officer he has implicated. Junior?
A quick glance at his face is enough for Nakamura to remember that the officer was the first one who called the sighting, face strict as he delivered his report. That seriousness is no longer there though, instead, confronted with the full force of the taskforce, his expression shows a comfortingly familiar grin.
Gloved hands conjuring the gem out of nowhere. Shrugging as he talks in the voice Nakamura didn’t realize he had missed. “Well, if Senior wanted to keep the name, he shouldn’t have abandoned me with it for the last 9 years.”
With that closing statement, he tosses the gem to Nakamori-Keibu’s awaiting arms and disappears after this "Senior" in another bang.
What a weird heist.
—
As much as he wants to deny it, Nakamori Ginzo has been faced with the truth once before. Hakuba Saguru and his analysis from what he claimed was Kaitou Kid’s hair has said that the Kaitou Kid they were chasing was young. What was it? Estimated sixteen to eighteen. It’s just that the skills that Kaitou Kid displayed was on par with the one before his hiatus. It’s easy to dismiss that hair as a false evidence taken from the dirty public museum floor.
But now with a more recent comparison of two Kaitou Kids, Nakamori Ginzo and the rest of the taskforce can’t ignore it any longer. In this meeting room with his subordinates, the big board plastered with photos and CCTV clippings are covered with lines and speculative thoughts.
On one end, is who they decidedly call Senior, and on the other end is Junior. Fitting names now that they can compare how one is a lot more juvenile than the other. Photos from 10 years ago, the past year, as well as the one last night scattered throughout.
“So we can agree that Senior dropped the cape 9 years ago, and Junior picked it up again a year ago,” Nakamura exclaims, “But then why would Junior start?”
That question is easy to answer. The Kid that first appeared a year ago was so undoubtedly wrong , from their performance down to his creepy plastic mask. Junior probably wanted to defend Senior’s reputation thus he stopped the masked imitator and took on the mantle himself.
“But why would he defend Senior if, according to Junior himself, Senior abandoned him?” Someone pointed out. That’s a fair point, from last night’s heist they know that Senior and Junior’s current relationship are somewhat hostile. Junior was actively helping the taskforce capture Senior and all. Thus, the only reason Junior would want to defend Senior was if he didn’t know he was abandoned. And for them to know that, they must first established,
“What is the relationship between them?” Ginzo prompts, drawing a line between the two with a big question mark in between.
He thinks a moment before drawing another line between Senior and Junior to the Phantom Lady. “Previously we assumed the Phantom Lady was a mentor to Kaitou Kid owing to her last appearance coinciding with Kid’s– Senior Kid– first appearance, backed by the fact that on a later date Junior returned Phantom Lady’s stolen items at her request. But we might need to reevaluate that.”
“Couldn’t it be as simple as Phantom Lady mentors Senior who mentors Junior?” One pipes up. Only for another to quickly make a rebuttal.
“But why would Junior keep Senior’s name? And if he lost contact with Senior, why would he keep one with the Phantom Lady?”
“Also, isn’t Junior young? Too young to be mentored by Senior by the time he was abandoned.”
Argument ensues within the meeting room. Everyone having their own theories and beliefs they want to spread across the board.
Hmm, aren’t they all thinking too simply? If Ginzo remembers correctly the Phantom Lady wasn’t active for long, definitely not as long as Senior though still longer than Junior. And Kid Junior is familiar with Phantom Lady. So what if,
“The Phantom Lady was not Senior Kid’s mentor,” he concludes, “They were equals, maybe rivals or peers like Junior seems to be with Chat Noir.”
That’s when someone slams their hands on the table, hard. All attention went towards Yoichi with his gobsmacked expression.
“They’re… lovers.” Yoichi finally chokes out. Face red when he is met with gobsmacked disbelieving expressions, though he is quick to defend himself, “No, listen! It makes sense. Twenty years ago they got together, had a child, and then Senior left them behind when Junior was a child. Old enough to be fond of Senior but too young to look into why he disappeared.”
Everyone in the meeting pondered over it. It infuriatingly does make sense, doesn’t it? It explains the 8 year gap, of course as a child Junior wouldn’t be able to fill Senior’s shoes. That’s why Junior is skilled and such a Chaos Incarnate. Confident with his every heist because he has the guidance of the Phantom Lady behind him.
“He’s right,” someone in the background chimes, “You do not say you were abandoned by your mentor. You were left behind by your mentor, you’re abandoned by your parents.”
“And both Kids refer to each other as Senior and Junior. That’s how most people refer to father and sons that share a name, isn’t it? We do the same with Superintendent Hakuba and his son.”
With that more and more testimonies seem to fall into place. One officer mentions how he overheard Conan say both his and Kid’s mothers are fans of Ryouma, another mention how they noticed Kid have a preferred height to his disguises that fits with a teenager’s profile, or that he always seems happier and more upbeat when teen detective Hakuba Saguru or the child Edogawa Conan appears, as if he’s with his peers, closer to their age rather than members of the police.
The more they delve into it, the more they realize that yes, the Kaitou Kid they’ve been chasing this past year, Kid Junior, is a teenager. And Kid Senior from years ago is his father. There’s no solid evidence admissible in court, but damn it, something in his stomach tells Ginzo that this theory is right.
“Does that mean we can charge Senior Kid with child neglect?” Officer Yoichi innocently asks. When faced with the scrutiny of the rest of the meeting room his face flushes as he tries to defend himself.
“Well, you know. Last night Kid– our Kid, Junior– if what Hakuba said is right, he was abandoned at 8, maybe 9 so…” a thoughtful look passed across his face, “Or does it count as child endangerment instead? Taught to be a thief and all.”
Well that's… Not the point of this meeting but,
Nakamori Ginzo hates to say it, that is something the task force should be looking into.
After all, no one hurts their Kid.
(A kid! Lowercase K, a child, a general child. The task force is not prioritizing nor taking bias for one Kid against the other. Definitely not.
Oh, who is Nakamori Ginzo kidding. Even if he– claims– he doesn’t, his squad definitely has a soft spot for Junior.
Junior can be a term of endearment too, doesn’t it?)