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mintchocolateleaves · 7 years

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Cost of Freedom (16/52)

Summary: In which Kaito and Shinichi have escaped. Prison!AU.

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“I wanted to drive.”

Kaito grumbles from where he is holding on to Shinichi’s waist, air slapping against his arms as they race down the dirt path, following behind Hattori on the motor bike. He doesn’t know how quickly they’re moving - although he’s pretty sure that it’s fast - but it doesn’t seem quick enough.

He wants to yell at Shinichi to move at a much more rapid pace, even if it’s dangerous - especially because it’s dangerous.

“You were tased,” Shinichi shouts back, and almost as if he’s read Kaito’s mind, he revs the bike, pushing it further, faster. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to drive.”

Yeah, well, Kaito doesn’t really care for good ideas right now. He’s fed up with having to be ‘good’ and with playing the rules and goddammit, they’re escaped convicts now, why are they following the law and making sure not to break speed limits.

A voice in the back of his mind calls him an idiot and tells him it’s to stop them from getting caught. It sounds almost like Aoko - what is it with her stubbornness keeping her in his thoughts? - It’s irritating and so like the idiot to do that to him. She’s frustrating like that.

“You were electrocuted too,” Kaito mutters, and somehow, through their helmets and despite the wind that’s blasting against them, the detective is able to hear. He lets out a small laugh, although it’s more irritation that elation

“Yeah, and who’s fault is it that I had to rip the barbs off of you.” Shinichi says, his voice significantly louder than Kaito’s own. The thief grimaces, recalls the burns across Shinichi’s hands where he’d yanked the electric wire from his jacket. How Shinichi had been able to keep moving after having electric pumped through his veins is beyond him - sometimes Shinichi seems more machine than human.

It’s impressive.

“Thanks,” Kaito whispers, and this time, Shinichi doesn’t hear him.

Hattori leads them out onto the motorway, and after about two hours of speeding down tarmac roads, weaving in and out of the fast lane, he indicates left, leading them into a city - when Kaito glances at the road signs it reads Nara, which he knows from experience, is about thirty minutes from Osaka, where Hattori resides.

They don’t drive far into the city, remaining in the outskirts. Hattori signals left, and Shinichi follows after him, clicking his indicator and turning the handlebars left. Letting out a sigh, Kaito feels a steady calm spread through him.

They are both free.

He can’t wait to see what happens next. Except, he’s almost dreading it - he knows that the media can be ruthless, and while he’s genuinely excited to see how they’ll react to his own escape, he’s nervous on how they’re going to portray Shinichi.

Police officers will search for Shinichi everywhere - they will tear apart houses and neighbourhoods to find a convicted serial killer, and they’re going to use the media to make him out to be the most despicable human in the world.

'Don’t think about it,’ Kaito thinks, as they come to a stop outside a block of flats - there are signs around the doors, blocking it off and stating it’s due for demolition in a few weeks. It’s not the most ideal place, but it is somewhere they can hide out without being caught, “Shinichi’s got tough skin. He can survive a few harsh words.”

Except, Kaito isn’t actually that sure whether the other man can. He knows that Shinichi tries to pretend that he’s feeling fine, that he internalises his emotions as not to bother others - and frankly, Kaito doesn’t think it’s going to lead to anything other than long-term damage.

“We’re here,” Hattori calls, turning off his engine. He pushes his bike towards some garages, beckoning Kaito and Shinichi over with his hand. “Hurry up. Th’ two of ya are so slow.”

There are so many questions that Kaito wants to ask the Osakan, words that have been dripping from the tip of his tongue, but so far they’ve been too focused on escaping to be listened to. He hopes that the Osakan will stay around long enough to answer their questions, but he’s not sure.

It’s past two a.m, Kaito reminds himself, and Hattori probably needs sleep. The same with Shinichi as well - he’s pretty sure the teen hasn’t slept properly in weeks, not with the impending break out. Even Kaito himself knows that as soon as he sits down he’s going to fall asleep.

He jumps from the bike and jogs over to Hattori, bouncing on his feet - it’s a task he used to do to keep him awake before his heists, even if he’d felt alert enough to start. Instead of it using up excess energy, the movement recharges him, like a generator whirring producing more electricity for him to run off of.

Kaito shudders at the thought of electricity - he’d been tased, again, and frankly, he feels like it’s getting old. His fingers brush against the taser he’s left in his pocket, a memento, he thinks, of his time in prison. He’ll certainly use it as a last resort on heists, especially with how it affects movement. His pain will be useful in finding Pandora at least.

“Stop daydreaming,” Shinichi says, patting Kaito on the back. “Let’s go inside.”

It takes Kaito a second to realise that while he’s been standing, lost in his own thoughts, relishing the freedom of fresh air and wind tickling his neck, Shinichi and Hattori have wheeled the motorbikes into one of the garages.

Half of him thinks that he shouldn’t have missed such a big detail. The other half thinks is too tired to care.

Kaito follows after Shinichi. He races up the stairs, jumping on his toes until Hattori reaches the door, pulling out a key. It’s not the real key, just a replica - Kaito knows the difference, thank you very much - not that it matters. The door reveals a small apartment, and Shinichi lets out a small groan when he realises that the heating has been left on, specifically for them.

“Hattori,” Shinichi says, “you are amazing.”

“I know,” Hattori laughs. He’s not how Kaito had imagined a detective to be - not studious like Hakuba, or closed-off like Shinichi - rather he’s light hearted and cheerful. The Osakan points into the main room, where two futons have been laid out, staring the two escaped convicts down until they trudge inside, discarding their shoes.

“There’s a medical kit under th’ table,” the Osakan calls as he moves into another room, “clean ou’ those cuts o’ yours.”

Neither boy refuses the offer. Instead, they sit cross legged on individual futons, and take the first aid kit from beneath a small table in the middle of the room. Kaito wants to deal with Shinichi’s burns first - they’re not too severe, but they’re red and the thief thinks they might end up blistering - but the ex-detective sends him a withering glare until Kaito wilts and gives in.

“You’re the one who’s actually bleeding,” Shinichi says in response to Kaito’s long winded sigh, “you really shredded your hands on that barbed wire.”

The pain doesn’t really register with Kaito, even though his adrenaline has long since worn off. The thief wonders whether it’s because he’s been shot - nothing is as bad as having a bullet tear through his body, and having to dig it out yourself.

“Let’s just pretend I’m growing roses.” Kaito shrugs as Shinichi starts wiping away blood, although he can’t bring himself to look down at his skin. He wonders whether the wounds will scar his palms. “The blood is just the petals.”

“You sound insane when you’re tired,” Shinichi mutters, although he’s grinning, creases around his eyes. He almost seems fond, which is… nice.

“You sound insane when I’m awake,” Kaito retorts, sticking his tongue out.

“Yer both soundin’ weird,” Hattori says, returning to the room. He brings blankets with him, although they look fluffier, softer than the one’s Kaito’s grown used to inside the prison. “Maybe ya should both 'ead off ta sleep.”

“But I have questions-”

Hattori shakes his head, and while the movement is small, it’s powerful. Kaito can see the sternness behind the Osakan’s eyes, knows that despite his efforts, he will not have any questions answered tonight.

“You guy’s need ta sleep.” Hattori says, crossing his arms around his chest, “questions can wait 'till tomorrow.”

Shinichi glances over at Hattori, frowning, “there are only two futons. You’re not staying?”

“I’ve got ta get rid o’ the bikes,” Hattori says, shaking his head. He hasn’t even stayed long enough to take his shoes off, or even to sit down, and if Kaito has to respect any detective - excluding Shinichi, of course - then it’s got to be this teenager, who’s most likely running on fumes, energy dwindling out.

“You’ll be back tomorrow?” Shinichi asks, when Hattori makes his way towards the door. It sounds more like a plea than a question, and Kaito doesn’t fully understand the emotion behind those words, but he does empathise.

“I’ll be a few hours,” Hattori says, turning to them both with a grin, “don’ worry, I won’t wake ya up on my way in.”

Shinichi purses his lips, before turning to Kaito with a grin. He says, “you can say it now.”

Kaito leans forward, lets out a small laugh and breathes, “we’re out!”

Saguru wakes up to the chiming of his phone.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and after rubbing at his eyes, he realises with a wave of embarrassment, that he has fallen asleep in the mouri-agency. His sight is blurry as he yawns, stretching out, before reaching for his phone.

It’s on low battery, but Saguru doesn’t let it bother him. He’ll charge it when he returns home - oh, Baya is going to scold him when he returns - but for now, he presses answer. It’s only once he’s pressed the phone against his ear that he realises it would have been a good idea to check the caller I.D.

And the time - it’s still dark outside the window. Half-awake, Saguru predicts it’s about five a.m. An ungodly time to be awake he thinks.

“Hakuba-kun,” the voice belongs to Inspector Nakamori. They haven’t talked in a few months, and Saguru finds himself blinking in confusion at the tension in the other man’s voice. “I’m sorry to wake you, but would you mind coming down to the station?”

Saguru doesn’t know why the Inspector would want to talk to him - they’ve never really seen eye-to-eye, and the man hasn’t really liked having teenagers on his crime scenes. Not many police officers have liked having civilians working cases in a while actually, Saguru thinks, not since Kudo’s conviction.

“I can?” He responds, and in his half-awake state, he finds himself forgetting to ask why he’s needed down at the station. Opposite him, Ran pushes herself up from the couch she’s fallen asleep on - at least it wasn’t both of them, hopefully she won’t think less of him for overstaying his welcome this once - rubbing at her own eyes. “I’ll get the first taxi I can.”

“Thanks,” Inspector Nakamori says, “I’ll see you then.”

The inspector hangs up before Saguru can say anything else.

“Who was that?” Ran asks, and she leans forward, grabbing a hair band from the table, pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail. “Was it Hattori?”

“No,” Saguru purses his lips, “it was Inspector Nakamori.”

Ran stretches, stands up. She closes the case files they’d been working on before they’d fallen asleep, stacking them amongst other files from the Kudo-case. “From Division two?”

“Yes, he wants me to head to the station.”

Turning back to him, Ran says, “let’s freshen up, and then we’ll head to the station together - I want to talk to Inspector Megure and the other detectives in division one.”

Saguru nods. “I’ll phone for a taxi.”

#I wrote this in under two hours #so if it's bad #haha #my bad #Heiji is best bro #And we're on arc 2 #Yessss #We get to see Aoko in PERSON next chapter #Fic: Cost of freedom #Kudo Shinichi #Kuroba Kaito #Hattori Heiji #Nakamori Ginzo #Hakuba Saguru #Mouri Ran #DCMK #mywriting

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