Disclaimer- Gosho owns the Kid, I do not. I don't EXACTLY own Iblis... maybe this version of him, though. This is loosely- VERY loosely- tied into some of my other fics, specifically two of my DP fics, "The Beating of His Wings" and "Two Roads." Rated G by the Motion Picture Association.

Sympathy by Moonlight

Ah, what a night. The moon was full, the sky was clear, and somewhere far behind him, Nakamori was cursing his descendants unto the eighth generation. The heist had gone well tonight, no snipers or messes, although the owner of the gem had given him a funny feeling. Mr. Lucian Fell, importer, was entirely too comfortable in Japan for a man who was supposedly American born and bred. And the odd smile on his face when the Kid had made his appearance... the funny looks he kept giving Hakuba... no question, the guy had been up to something. But, Kid reflected, he'd gotten away clean, the perfect wind filling his glider's wings and carrying him off into the moonlit sky.

Speaking of which... He dropped lightly onto the top of the building below him, pulling the gem out of one pocket and holding it up to the glowing moon. It completely failed to glow, not really surprising the thief by this point. He was, quite honestly, getting used to disappointment.

"Like searching for a needle in a haystack, ne?" a mellow baritone questioned, making Kid whirl in shock. The roof had been empty when he landed, he knew it had... But there in the moonlight stood the unmistakable form of Lucian Fell, white hair, white suit, and all.

"... Fell-san? You made excellent time. Didn't I just leave you back at the office?" Kid asked, outwardly nonchalant.

The American chuckled, one finger pushing small, rectangular glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. "It's not such a hard trick, Kid-san," the taller man replied easily. "You may figure it out yourself, in a few years. If things continue as they've been."

Forcing himself to remain cool, the thief studied the man before him. His opponent was a little taller, broader, the body that of a man in his late twenties rather than teens. His hair was snowy white, shoulder length, caught back in a loose ponytail with shorter bits falling forward to make the bangs. Behind the glasses, the grey eyes were full of life and mischief. And the business suit he wore was brilliant white-- cotton rather than the heavier fabric of the Kid's tux, with a black shirt and a white tie completing the image. The white loafers were a near match for the thief's own, though. And for some reason, the American had his hands buried in his pockets.

"Got any more tricks up your sleeve, Fell-san," Kid asked blandly, nodding in the direction of those hands. "Because it seems rather odd to me that you've come up here all alone."

Smiling, Fell pulled his hands from his pockets, spreading them widely. "No, no tricks tonight. I'm only here to talk."

Beneath the brim of his hat, Kid arched an eyebrow. "And what do you think we have to talk about?"

"I admire you, you know," Fell replied, linking hands behind his back. As he spoke, he walked to the building's edge, staring up at the moon. "It must be very hard on you, sometimes, to walk the tightrope you've chosen. I'm sure your father would be... no, is very proud."

"My father?" The words were out before he could stop them, as Kid felt a rush of cold. "What do you know about my father?"

"I know he left you too young, with only memories and a mask to hold onto. And I know you chose to become his ghost, to take up his quest, to find justice for him." Fell turned that steel-grey gaze on him. "It's a hard thing to do, and still keep your own soul. But you've managed."

Kid folded his arms, hoping that the shadows were hiding any lapses his expression might make. "Forgive me, but you're simply not making any sense."

"You could kill them, you know. The ones who hunt you are mortal men, and men die so very easily. A puff of smoke, a rush of flame... a man's life can be snuffed out in the blink of an eye. Or rather an eye for an eye."

"I'm a thief, not a murderer." The words came out harsher than he'd intended, but the white-haired man just smiled.


For a moment, the two white-clad men just looked at each other in the light of the moon. Finally, Kid sighed.

"Fell-san... may I ask what you want?"

"A dangerous question, but for you, I'll answer without tricks. That's a rare gift, magician... I'd cherish it." The American smiled.

"What I want is quite complex, but here and now... I want you to succeed, Kaito. I want you to find Pandora, and I want you to smash it. And I want you to live a long, full, and happy life afterwards."

Kid's blood froze. The man had called him "Kaito," and somehow he didn't think it was the simple gaijin mistake of shortening the vowel. Besides, most people called him "Kid," not "Kaitou" anyway. But Fell was continuing, and Kid wrenched his mind back to the other man's words.

"You're not sane, you know. You do realize this."

"The accusation has been made in the past," Kid allowed. And yes, he knew he wasn't. He compartmentalized his life too neatly, too easily. Half the reason that Kuroba Kaito could maintain his stance that he was not Kid was because on some level, he wasn't. Frankly, he changed his lives as he changed his clothes. No, he knew he wasn't sane, but the thought didn't bother him that much.

Fell nodded, as if a question had been answered. "Good. Insanity is the logical response to a mad world, after all. So long as you can ride your madness, rather than letting it ride you." He turned back towards the moon.

"It takes courage to walk the rope you do. To defy the law in search of justice... it's a path along the edge of a knife. And it's far, far too easy to fall." A wisp of old pain and regret in the man's voice, the first emotion to break the bland amusement that had been there all night. "It's easy to make mistakes. Great ones. And blood on your hands never quite washes away."

Kid cocked his head. "Blood?" He hadn't seen anything in the man's background that might have hidden something of that nature.

"Old regrets. Several lifetimes ago. Suffice it to say that the greatest mistake I made was thinking that I should bear my fate and quest alone."

"I'm not alone," Kid protested. He didn't know why he was saying any of this, but... it just felt right.

"One old man whom you shield from the majority of the truth does not, in this case, count, Kaito-kun," retorted the businessman. "The dragon you fight has more than eight heads, and you are far from Susanowo. Trust is a powerful weapon, and sometimes it must be given in faith. I can name at least one who would stand by you, if he knew the truth. I think he knows much of it even now. And both of you could use a friend."

Shaking his head, Kid waved a hand in dismissal. "If you're talking about the Tweed Wonder, he'd have me in handcuffs before two words were spoken."

A soft snort. "You do him an injustice. He watches you with eyes of fear, not malice. Actually, he reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago. Loyal, courageous, a warrior's soul; the law came between us, as well. But you don't have to tell him everything at once. All I ask is that you consider my words. I let pride and fear destroy everything I had, Kaito-kun. I would as soon not see you destroyed by yours."

"I... I'll think about it," Kid said finally, not sure why. There was something about this man, something that tugged at the back of Kid's memory. "... Who are you? Really?"

A tired smile. "That would take longer then either of us have, my friend. But if you want a name... well, you can call me Iblis." He turned back to stare over the city.

"You should have a good wind for the rest of your flight home, Kid-san. Good night."

He was right; the wind was perfect. But for some reason, the name bothered Kid all the way home.

"Hey, Hakuba!" Kaito announced cheerily, dropping into a seat near the blond. Then he did a double take. "You look awful."

A blue glare shot in his direction. "I had... an unexpected visitor after the heist last night," the detective replied. "You look disgustingly cheerful."

Kaito grinned. "Always am." Then he grew thoughtful. "Hey, Hakuba? You're the storehouse of useless information, you ever hear the name 'Iblis?'"

To his shock, the half-Brit almost choked. "Where the bloody hell did you hear that name?"

"Uh... I plead the Fifth?"

"That particular amendment isn't in Japan's Constitution, Kuroba."

"Oh yeah. Can we just say it's some guy I met and leave it at that?"

Hakuba's gaze now looked... concerned? What the heck? "I rather think not. You see, Iblis was the name of an angel in Islamic belief. According to the stories, he refused to bow down before mankind when ordered to do so by Allah, and so was exiled from heaven to become the father of creatures such as the djinn and ifrits. With his exile, he was given a new name, 'Shaitan,' which means 'enemy.'"

"Um... 'Shaitan.' As in..."

"Yes, Kuroba. Satan, Samael, Lucifer Morningstar, Prince of the Powers of the Air." Kaito jerked at that last title... "good winds" indeed. He wasn't superstitious, exactly, but he was chasing a gem that made people immortal. Who was he to say that last night's chat hadn't really been with... with... He wasn't taking that thought any farther, thanks.

"Kuroba!" From the sound of Hakuba's voice, this wasn't the first time the other boy had tried to get his attention. Looking up, Kaito was again struck by the look of concern on the detective's face.

I let pride and fear destroy everything I had, Kaito-kun, Iblis' voice whispered in his memory. Taking a deep breath, Kaito met Hakuba's eyes.

"Hakuba... do you think maybe... we could talk after school?"