London, 12:42 AM, The Museum of London, present day.
It had been uncharacteristically clear for the past few days for the usually rainy country making tomorrow night’s heist easier. Not that the cloud, rain, or romantic London fog deterred Kaitou KID from any heist much less a target for Pandora. The international name had spread, once again, across the globe and with it the slow dissolve of Kuroba Kaito.
The young magician of course was still alive but only in a stage name and the barest glimpses of personality that only three people could ever see. After graduating high school Kaito had enough with the limits Japan pushed on to the younger community and sought after a broader opportunities by heading west across the sea of Japan and into China. Though he loved to fly he refused to climb into an aircraft, to the amusement of his team. They hopped from city to city, country to country, slowly creating a name for themselves as magicians and spending the nights training and perfecting the art at known open heists. With the new heist came new scars and new nightmares, new reasons to quit and the deeper fall into madness and shadow.
The madness was nothing new Kaito had seen the signs, heard the voice, since he was a little boy and when he didn’t understand or know how to control it he let it run free sometimes. Always lashing out in anger to quell the pain and horror of losing his father, his hero and the strong light of his family at a age where he couldn’t comprehend. Now older he knew the truth, had known the truth for six years now. He would be wearing that truth tonight.
For the moment KID, Kaito’s strongest and most protective self, stood over the case, watching and listening for movement. The gem, a large amethyst on silver and so appropriately named The Queen’s Collar, choked the displays soft red velvet. He had been here to study it so many times before masquerading as a student, working as a night janitor and a fine arts collector. The art collector was Kaito’s idea and it please KID to know that his other self was starting to poke out of the locked room he built around himself. He wouldn’t show himself here though, not when there were shadows, so KID would have to try again in the day.
His mind drifted to the little park he passed everyday going back to the flat he and his companions rented.
A flicker of torch light had him dropping down behind the case silently and the black clothes concealed his form. Four heart beats passed and he peeked up and over the glass through the slots in his simple oval, black mask. The guard was gone. He stood again smoothly and returned to The Queen’s Collar.
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