like seriously, that’s why i instituted fanfic fridays on my bigger blog, because i know i need to read more fic, it’s just. a lot, sometimes, and it’s so hard to get lost in reading the way i did as a kid :TTT
A slap on the wrist? No -- Kaito expects far, f a r worse for this. ( He e x p e c t s someone to d i e , and that’s what g r a t e s on him the w h o l e time he’s escorted back, n e r v o u s and uncertain, b l i n d f o l d e d so even he, who’s been f o r c e d into their service, doesn’t know where the base a c t u a l l y is. They’re f r u s t r a t i n g l y thorough, except he’s fairly sure he could figure out where it was, given a map. )
( Of course, They don’t g i v e him a map. And they don’t take the thing off until he’s d e e p in the b e l l y of the beast, and there’s n o way he’d find a m a p of the construct, aside from the m e n t a l one he’s worked on. )
There’s the click and hiss of a lock and seal, and then the fabric over his eyes slithers away, falling to the ground as someone flicks the knot loose. Kaito blinks -- once, twice -- to let his sight adjust, but that’s all he manages before someone seizes him by the front of his shirt and slams him against the wall to the side -- ( ow, o w , his body a c h e s and he’s still t r e m b l i n g , and this i s n ’ t helping, which is likely the p o i n t but s t i l l -- )
“What a delightful little disaster,” the agent -- ( who Kaito has seen b e f o r e , and he’s s t a r t i n g to think that this guy is the one who’s supposed to be a s s i g n e d to him, one way or a n o t h e r ) -- says, picking idly at the blood that had splattered across Kaito’s shirt. ( He tries not to g r i m a c e , and swallows down the urge to g l a r e at the other. ) “Do you know, Kid, that you hesitated too long there?”
( Of course he does. )
“That’s not something you were supposed to do.” The grip’s let go, now, and Kaito takes an instant to find his footing. In the meantime, the man’s backed off a step or so, leveling a judging gaze on him. ( Ridiculously, it a l m o s t makes him feel self-conscious, but he i g n o r e s it all in the end. ) “And that deserves some form of punishment, don’t you think?”
The obvious answer would be either a yes or no, depending on how one looked at it, but Kaito’s inclined against speaking up at all. ( He’s s u r e he’ll mess something up if he d o e s . ) Still, he inclines his head because he has to acknowledge that he’s paying attention, even if his gaze keeps skirting the other and remains fleeting over the splashes of red on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re not his, of course, and they’re certainly ruined.
“On the other hand,” the man continues, ( and Kaito e n v i s i o n s the guy getting a soccer ball to the f a c e for sheer a m u s e m e n t and a way to keep himself s a n e , except the thought that the detective might become i n v o l v e d very quickly shuts down the image, and he should r e a l l y pay attention here, ) “We don’t think it went all that terribly, considering it was a first trial. A passing grade, maybe.” And... There’s the disturbing grin. Disturbing both in its form and in the way Kaito kind of expected it, and would’ve been more surprised if it hadn’t been there. “Certainly not the level of excellence we expected from the great, illustrious Kaitou Kid, though. Something of a disappointment, actually -- you can see the mess you’ve made yourself.”
Said ( ex-? until they c o m m a n d him to r e t u r n , anyway ) thief remains defiantly silent, unwilling to speak up, but this doesn’t appear to disturb the other.
“This is the first time, so we’ll be nice this once,” he says, and a ᴛʀᴀɪᴛᴏʀᴏᴜs flash of hope flares up in Kaito’s chest -- only to be ruthlessly crushed as the man continues, carefree as always, “An arranged accident is in order, don’t you think? Just a little bump to the car at high enough speeds is enough to throw a person or two into a hospital, hm? Well, we don’t want anyone making any connections, since that troublesome person shouted out your name, so maybe not that friend you hold so dear -- Nakamori Aoko, wasn’t it? -- but a different classmate. Should be distant enough. How does that sound, Kid?”
Kaito closes his eyes, and exhales -- he wants to protest, but a sinking feeling in his gut tells him if he does, the ‘ maybe ’ death would turn into a ‘ definite ’ death and -- he can’t. ( He t r i e s to ignore to spurt of r e l i e f in the back of his head, that it w o u l d n ’ t be Aoko -- not t h i s time. )
So, before the man can tell him the old cliche of ‘ I asked you a question ’ , Kaito spits out, “I understand.” And no second chances, next time; perfection or death were the only real options. ( Of those, only o n e was t r u l y an option. )
The gruesome smirk on the other’s face only widens, and for an instant Kaito wishes he could take back his words, to lessen the obvious triumph playing across the man’s expressions, but he’s pretty sure the purpose of it is to rile him up, and it’s not like he can actually take anything back, anyway. ( And for the u m p t e e n t h time, he c u r s e s his situation and tries n o t to fall to d e s p a i r . ) But it’s not over yet, apparently.
( Like he’s e x p e c t e d , a slap on the w r i s t isn’t going to cut it. )
That doesn’t mean he’s expecting the sleek, dark-colored loop, however, the ends detached and held like parted jaws and -- he knows it too well ( because it’s what g o t him into this situation into the f i r s t place, and even though l o g i c a l l y he realizes it’s a little d i f f e r e n t , thinner and not n e a r l y as stiff, he can’t s t o p his immediate thoughts ) and his heart’s picked up pace without him noticing, his eyes widening a fraction, and -- subconsciously -- he’s moving to take a step back--
“Don’t move.” ( The words have a h i s s recoiling in the back of Kaito’s throat, and mostly out of s p i t e , he wants to m o v e , but he doesn’t d a r e risk it when others’ lives are on the line. ) He can hear the gloating in the words, however, and grits his teeth against it in frustration. “It’s not quite what you’re thinking of, I’m sure.” And Kaito thanks the heavens for that, because he knows that if he hadn’t a choice in obeying Their commands, They wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate those They’ve already threatened to. ( He’s a l l o w e d his flickers of hope because it gives T h e m something to c r u s h ; if there’s no n e e d for such a thing, why b o t h e r keeping such hope around? )
“This,” the man says, ever so carelessly, “is going to be your little reminder.” There’s no need to explain what for. Kaito watches him toy with the choker for a few moments, with growing apprehension, as he continues. “Since you’ve already had some experience with something on your neck giving you orders, I think we can ditch the liabilities that giving you an actual phone might cause.”
Which means it’s equipped with at least something that vibrates, or beeps, or offers a rudimentary method of communication. Most likely more; he can predict tranquilizers, maybe. ( And it would be pinned to his t h r o a t and he wouldn’t be able to do a s i n g l e thing about it. )
( Breathe. B r e a t h e . )
“Come here.” The collar’s held up in mock invitation, as if it’ll actually convince Kaito to step closer rather than away -- and while he does approach, it’s certainly not because he wants to be anywhere near the object. ( It’s because he doesn’t want a n y of T h e m near his friends and family. )
His breath catches, but he tries to steady himself -- remove himself from the situation, an outsider looking in, as the distance between him and the man in black shrinks to uncomfortably small amounts, ( and, m i r a c u l o u s l y , the shaking in his limbs starts to quell j u s t as the clasp clicks s n u g l y at the back his neck and the man pulls away. His pulse d o e s n ’ t jump, even if he w a n t s to. )
“Now,” and the voice sounds kind of distant, a little fuzzy; maybe it’s the panic he’s trying to ignore, “I think we should try this once more -- except this time, you’ll have an actual target.” He registers a smile, on the other’s lips, and wishes he could get rid of it. “Why don’t we have you put your skills to the test, Kid?”
