Notes: I'm back two days later with another fic, this time one for Poirot Cafe's Themed Writing Contest #26: Heat. To (somehow) fit with the prompt, I'm going with a Yōkai AU. I've used some foreign terms in the story so there's a glossary at the end for you to refer to. If you've read this fic before the edits, there's an extra note at the end of the story to explain why I went to edit it.
Warnings: Mild KaiShin, nothing explicit though you might want to click away if you don't like that sort of stuff
Summary: Kaitou KID was a magician who could do the impossible. He could steal anything and everything and infiltrate any building. There was even a theory that Kaitou KID wasn't even human and was rather some kind of mischievous phantom. Nobody knew how right they were though. Yōkai!AU (Poirot Cafe Writing Contest #26: Heat)
Nurarihyon are yōkai of illusions and dreams, bending reality until what is true may not be true and what is false may not be false. Silent as the night, they are as untouchable as the reflection of the moon on the surface of the pond, existing but yet again, not quite there. Nurarihyon are commanders of all spirits and are known as the Lord of The Night, standing at the fore of their Hyakki Yakō, the Night Parade of A Hundred Demons. They are also known to be mysterious and elusive, leading their Night Parade out on summer nights, riding high up in the clouds, invisible to most. If by chance you do see a Night Parade on the prowl, it would do you good to remember one thing:
Be careful not to get drawn in...
Ah... it's a beautiful night.
His lips curved into a familiar smirk that in the dark of the night seemed almost… seductive. An exhaled breath containing specks of magic froze into a smattering of ice crystals that blew away into the cold wind. Kaito took a step forward, sandal-clad foot sinking gently into the snow-like clouds. Behind him an eerie series of giggles and chatter resounded as a mass of darkness lit up with glowing red eyes, shrouded by a thick fog of miryoku that put any unwary human ill at ease and, if concentrated, to sleep. Contrary to popular opinion, Kaitou KID's potent sleeping gas was not a cocktail of chemicals but rather, something a little more magical. His blood thrummed in his veins, a constant heat burning fiery hot in his body, barely contained under his skin and he couldn't help but laugh gleefully.
What a night!
Silently like shades, a series of dark shadows flitted across the inky-blackness of the velvety night sky, blotting out the stars and sending goosebumps prickling the skin of unknowing watchers. A tendril of miryoku curled around his fingers and Kaito blew gently on them, sending swirls of darkness scattering into the air. He could taste the magic tingling on his tongue and buzzing in his veins, begging to be released. His Night Parade chittered behind him and he spread out his arms, haori rippling in the wind as his voice boomed out in excitement, overlaid with a faint echo.
"It's a hot-blooded night! Let us enjoy ourselves to the fullest!"
Contrary to belief, Kaito wasn't a handsome, human teenage boy aspiring to be a magician. After all, he had never been a human in the first place.
(He was totally handsome though, don't let any wild tantei-sans tell you otherwise)
Kaito was a Nurarihyon, a yōkai of dreams and illusions and some of his magic tricks were not entirely tricks at all. They had just a bit more magic, a bit more miryoku in them than other magicians' tricks. On nights like these when the moon was hazy with clouds and round and full and the air buzzing with magic, the shadows came alive. On nights like these, Kaito would remain wide awake unable to sleep, the burning in his blood teasing out the other side of him. The one that danced with danger and seduced hapless humans with his unnaturally beautiful features. The one that was wild and free and ethereally beautiful and belonged only to the night, unable to be chained by metal or magic.
On nights like these when Kaito couldn't resist the urge, he would succumb to the heat, the hot-blooded sensation flooding his body and feel his hair lengthen, tickling his neck as it bleached a bone white while his eyes darkened from a clear blue to a seductive wine-red, tinged with the faintest hints of the shadows. He would feel fingers trailing across his cheeks as the darkness lovingly welcomed their child and he would feel the miryoku that gathered as his Hyakki Yakō assembled around him, taste the anticipation that danced across his tongue as the eagerness to cause trouble and make mischief became almost overwhelming. Usually during the day, it would only be a nudging feeling, one which he usually gave in to, mostly due to the fact that it was hilarious to see people looking so out of sorts as he splashed them with dye or scattered confetti over their heads. However in the depths of the night, it became something all-consuming that washed over him like a wave and threatened to knock him over.
When everybody had gathered, he would beckon to them and they would take to the skies, travelling a winding road of liquid silver studded with all of the stars in space. And it was the only time when Kaito knew he would never fall, the unexplainable, unearthly magic of the Night Parade keeping him aloft in the sky, walking up steps of cotton candy clouds with inhuman attendants at his beck and call and the members of his Hyakki Yakō surging after him.
Inevitably the Night Parade would soon scatter and they would individually seek to cause trouble, inspire fear and awe amongst the humans that saw them and devouring that fear like the sweetest ambrosia. It was almost like a drug for the yōkai, one that they continued to desire and couldn't seem to get enough of.
Kaito would also head his own way, dismissing the other yōkai that sought to follow and he would wrap the shadows around him like a cloak, obscuring his features and causing any human that looked at him to see nothing more than the black of the sky. With feather-light steps, he would walk on the wind, slowly descending to the ground now that the miryoku surrounding him dissipated with the departure of his Hyakki Yakō. Once Kaito touched down on the rooftops, he would then take off in a startling burst of speed, skipping across the tiles and cement with his brightly patterned yukata billowing behind him like a river pebble over the surface of a pond. His destination would almost always be the same, a lonely mansion in the middle of District 2 where a solitary detective lived.
It started occurring shortly after Kudo Shinichi had 'returned' from investigating a dark organization undercover with the help of the FBI. Sometimes during humid, summer nights, something would overcome him and a sort of film would cover his memory and everything after that would be recalled with a hazy touch. During such nights, at some point late in the night when the city had largely gone to sleep, a sweetly-sour smelling fog, tinged with the scent of sakura blossoms would slowly trickle into his house, filling up every single nook and cranny and slipping in from every small crack and opening. The first few times he would try to futilely avoid breathing in the fog, but it would always end in failure as he would inevitably run out of breath and anyways the fog could pass through any amount of wet handkerchiefs and gas masks that he held to his face. The times after that he gave up trying, seeing as he never got so much as a scratch on him he saw no harm in just going along with it. Frustratingly (mostly just for him), though he had tried to deduce the culprit's identity multiple times, they never left a trace behind.
A shadowy figure would then slip in from a window shortly after he had succumbed to the enchantment of the fog or miryoku as some would know it as and they would always hold out a beckoning hand - always giving him a choice - and Shinichi would always curiously accept that hand, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation that warmed up his body with a hot but not unbearable warmth, something that set his blood on fire and filled him with a sense of mischief.
After that, he would be brought on a fantastical and oftentimes unbelievable trip, visiting everything from nighttime taverns filled with yōkai of every imaginable shape and size, from every legend he had ever read to an ancient traditional mansion teeming with spirits and yōkai that greeted the figure with nothing less that adoring respect. Of course, in the morning he would remember none of that particularly clearly, and certainly not enough to help him identify where he had been taken, but unfailingly, every single time he would be deposited back on his bed with a small gift left by his bedside, a small wood carved bookmark, a singular hand fan or maybe an untouched white rose with velvety figure would quietly back away from his bed and their form would shimmer before whatever magic that wrapped around them would fade away and the silhouette of a person would be revealed, always obscured by the light of the rising sun until the person slipped through the window and disappeared again as Shinichi fell into a dreamless sleep. The gift was also always left with a note written in elegant calligraphy:
'Last night, I stole your heart but now that it is morning, I will have to give it back, for I am one who only exists with the departure of the sun.'
Shinichi had suspicions as to who was the one that continuously kidnapped him and took him on unbelievable tours to even more unbelievable places but as is typical of all detectives, he refused to consider those suspicions as absolute until he received actual evidence.
Tonight though, he finally received a solid confirmation as to who this mysterious person was.
Shinichi had discovered that the hold the fog had on him had gradually loosened and for the first time in the countless nights, his head was clear enough by the end of the night that he was able to fight off the drowsiness long enough to inch to the window and peer out of it to catch sight of brown, messy hair and lagoon-blue eyes on a face that looked eerily similar to his own. A face that could only belong to one person.
Shinichi breathed out in amazement, a whirl of confused thoughts swirling around his head.
Well, that was not completely unexpected at least.
With the coming of the morning sun, the heat in his blood would cool and Kaito would regain his human form and his hold over his wild instincts that honestly, screamed for him to just spirit the detective away and keep him for himself, lithely jumping out of the window and escaping the house of the detective that he had enchanted with his miryoku the night before, leaving the other sleeping peacefully ensconced by warm blankets, a beautiful, small gift lying by his bedside weighing down a handwritten note.
That morning though, would not be like usual and when he left the house, briskly walking down the street towards the bus stop (his Hyakki Yakō had oft requested to transport him home from wherever he headed off to but he always refused, not wanting Shinichi to be bothered by mischievous and curious spirits), he heard the whisper of footsteps across wooden floorboards and saw a head of brown hair poke out from the window that he just exited, obviously staring at him in shock and all he could think of as he assumed a casual air and turned the corner was a single word.
Nurarihyon were slippery creatures that could enter and exit unseen, the power of their miryoku hypnotising a human, entrancing them. This miryoku doesn't work very well or very long on other yōkai though.
But that's a story for another time.
A/N: Woot! I finished it (and my fingers are ice cubes from my air conditioner) hopefully keeping within the prompt of 'Heat'. My justification is that everything that happens is due to the 'heat' or instinct that possesses Kaito and Shinichi - via Kaito and maybe the fact that he isn't completely human himself - but it's in the air right now. Regardless, even if it doesn't qualify I am still damn proud of this piece right now and I hope you'll enjoy it too. Thanks for reading!
Have a nice day!
Edit: Due to some possible copyright reasons for the contest, I've changed a term or too and went back and edited the story for mistakes. It shouldn't have any reference to Nurarihyon No Mago anymore (you should totally still watch the series though).
Glossary Of Terms:
Hyakki Yakō - Hyakki Yakō (百鬼夜行; lit. "Night Parade of One Hundred Demons") is a term used for the gathering of yōkai beneath a leader's banner, which can only be mobilized by the leader's command. Though it implies 100 members, such is not always the case.
Charm - miryoku (魅力) is a special kind of power that yōkai and spirits use to overwhelm their opponents and bewitch mortals. A battle of miryoku between yōkai is a battle of trying to awe and charm their opponents so that they succumb to the control over their senses and sometimes even their bodies. Miryoku can manifest in different ways but the most common is manipulation in which streams of miryoku is sent out to take possession of an object or person.