Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan/Case Closed or D.N Angel.

Summary: Meeting with witches and getting kidnapped by artwork definitely hadn't been part of the plan. D.N Angel crossover

Pairings: Kaito x Shinichi (DC) and Daisuke x Riku (DNA)

WARNINGS: Shounan ai (boy/boy pairing), you have been warned

AN: This is a gift fic for Alaena F. Dragonstar. She asked me to write her a DNA crossover that had some kind of art magic in it, and it's taken me awhile but here it is.

An Eternal Art

By V. Shalyr



When the letter had first arrived in the mail, Shinichi hadn't given it a second thought. It was amazing how much junk mail he and Kaito received between the two of them, everything from fan letters to death threats and the occasional, more ordinary postcard from Hakuba and Ran who were currently touring England. Of course, it hadn't exactly been a normal letter, but then neither was a lot of the other mail that ended up on their kitchen table. Still, he sure as hell remembered it now—now when it was already too late…


It had been printed on ivory parchment in red ink, the script elegant and unfamiliar.

Don't let him go.

Shinichi frowned at the letter in some confusion. Well, by all rights it really wasn't even a letter, just a note with a single, sinister line of text.

"Don't let him go," he repeated, completely mystified.

"Shin-chan! Good morning!"

Shinichi grunted as Kaito wrapped his arms around him from behind and proceeded to squeeze all the air from his lungs.

"What a surprise. You're up before me!"

"Says the person who came home at four in the morning," Shinichi snorted, turning his head so he could catch a glimpse of his partner over his shoulder. "What the hell were you doing out at four in the morning?"

The magician chuckled. "I want my next performance to happen at dawn so I had to check some things out."

"And people are going to want to get up to watch this show at the crack of dawn?"

"Of course. I've got adoring fans who will travel the globe to watch my shows. Getting up a bit earlier—or staying up a bit later as it might turn out—is just part of the fun."

"Right, your crazy, obsessed fans. How could I have forgotten about those?"

"I'm sure you try your best."

Sighing, Shinichi relaxed against him and returned his attention to the letter in his hands. He wasn't sure why but something about it just wouldn't stop bothering him. Maybe because it didn't have a sender's address or even a name?

"What's that?" Kaito asked curiously, following the direction of his gaze.

"Don't know," Shinichi replied, turning it over once more to make sure he hadn't missed anything. "A warning, I guess, and it's addressed to me. But I have no idea who sent it or why."

Kaito plucked the letter from his grasp and glanced at it. For a moment, his face went completely blank. Then he dropped the parchment back onto the table. "Akako strikes again, I see. Wonder what she's up to this time."


"Yeah, I told you about her. The witch Aoko's been hanging out with a lot lately. God forbid she actually comes along next time we all have a friendly get together." He gave an exaggerated shudder then shrugged. "Don't worry about it. She says a lot of strange things, but I've never let that interfere with my plans. Probably 'cause it's pretty much impossible to tell when she means to help or hurt. Anyways, breakfast is getting cold."

"I suppose." Shinichi stared at the letter uncertainly for a moment longer then shrugged as well and joined Kaito at the kitchen counter. They had to hurry if they didn't want to be late for work, and Megure had mentioned something about an important new assignment.


…And then four days later, Kuroba Kaito had disappeared.

At first, Shinichi hadn't been worried. He was expecting Kaito to be gone for awhile, escorting the strange painting to its final destination. And after all, Kaito was more than capable of taking care of himself. He'd been one of the most famous and wanted thieves worldwide for nearly five years and gotten away with it, and it hadn't just been because he tended to be lucky. Luck could only take you so far in any business. But when the magician continued to fail to call or return home, he began to grow concerned.

And so it was that he found himself sitting at a restaurant table waiting to talk to—and he still found it hard to believe he was saying this—a witch.

Akako, what had Kaito told him about her? That she'd saved his life a few times and tried to kill him a few other times—not the most reassuring review to be sure, though he'd said it all so casually at the time that it had taken a minute or two for the severity of his words to sink in. The new information had been kind of upsetting, but the magician assured him that he and the witch had "gotten over it", whatever that was supposed to mean and warned him in general to stay away from her if he could.

Still, it wasn't like he had much of a choice here. The more he'd reviewed the details of the case leading up to the painting's removal and Kaito's errand, the more that general sense of wrongness had increased.

He didn't have to wait long as the restaurant door chimed the arrival of two young woman—one that he recognized as Aoko Nakamouri. That meant that her companion could only be—

"Koizumi Akako?"

The woman brushed her long, crimson hair behind her ear and offered him a veiled smile. "Kudou Shinichi. I've heard a lot about you."

No doubt, Shinichi thought uneasily as the two women sat down across from him. He was in the papers a lot, though somehow, he didn't think that was what Akako was talking about.

"Did you send me this?" he asked, cutting straight to the point as he placed the letter with its single line of warning written in scarlet ink upon the table.

Akako barely glanced at the note, placing her order with a waitress before turning her hooded gaze upon him. "But Kuroba went anyway."

Shinichi frowned. "What do you mean? What happened? Do you know where he is?"

"Yes and no."

Aoko glanced curiously from the detective to the witch then back again. "Is something wrong? What happened to Kaito?"

"Nothing we can do much about I'm afraid, my dear," Akako said, clucking her tongue in mild disapproval. "It seems our magician friend has gotten himself caught up in another legend. Works of art do have amazing power, after all, and that one… Wickedness comes in many forms, doesn't it, detective?"

Shinichi narrowed his eyes, a strange chill racing down his spine. "What are you talking about?"

"The painting. I thought that was obvious. You've all been looking for the wrong culprit."

"You know who killed those people, the ones who were after the painting?"

The witch took her time to answer, tapping her fingers lightly against the delicate glass stem of her cup. "Tell me, how did they die?"

"Suffocation," Shinichi recalled, bringing the reports he'd practically memorized over the past few days to mind. "Though we were unable to determine exactly how it was done. There were no signs of strangulation or any toxic chemicals in their system."

"What if I told you they were drowned?"

"But that's impossible. We would have found—"

"Signs?" Akako favored her glass with a thin, half amused smile. "But there wouldn't have been. Magic doesn't leave those kinds of marks."

His frown deepened. "What are you saying? Where's Kaito?"

"I'm saying that the killer you've all been looking for was right before your eyes all along—on that canvas. As for Kuroba, I'm sorry but I can't tell you where he is. I've tried to find out, but for some reason…" She shrugged, examining her fingernails and not looking at him. "I can, however, tell you that the painting he was supposed to steal took him away."

Shinichi couldn't believe he was having this conversation. "It took him away? Where?"

A cryptic smile curled the witch's red painted lips, "To another world."


Kaito groaned and sat up. Ugh, he didn't quite feel like he'd been run over by a truck, but maybe a good sized motorcycle fitted with a couple extra passengers and maybe armor plating.

A noise caught his attention and he went abruptly still out of instinct, listening. It came again—footsteps, he was sure of it, distant but getting closer. Years of thieving experience chose that moment to kick in full force, forcing him to his feet. A quick glance around told him that he was in a very large room. The lights were off but he could still pick out what seemed to be several glass display cases and a few paintings lining the walls. An art gallery? Never mind the details now, he had to find somewhere to hide. Wherever he was and however he had gotten there, something told him he had missed visiting hours.

Moving as silently as a ghost, he hid himself in the shadows behind one of the displays, blanking his thoughts and slowing his breathing. Moments later, the door of the art gallery swung open and a security guard stood framed in the lit doorway, casting a long shadow into the room. He peered suspiciously around the room for several moments then shook his head as though to clear it before shutting the door again.

Kaito let himself relax as the footsteps faded away.

What happened? This place seemed like an art museum, but he didn't recognize it and certainly couldn't remember how he'd ended up sprawled across its floor. It unnerved him just a little to realize that he couldn't remember.

Okay, no need to panic. He'd been in weird situations before; it came with his ex-business. He just had to calm down and retrace his steps.

He and Shinichi had arrived at the police station to report in for work that morning a couple days ago, and for the details of Inspector Megure's so-called "special" new assignment. To escort an old and valuable piece of artwork to a secure location without being noticed.

A piece of artwork said to contain the key to some hidden treasure.

A piece of artwork which someone had already killed for.

The painting.

The moment he'd laid eyes on it, Kaito had disliked every stroke of paint upon the canvas. It hadn't been particularly hideous or even all that unusual—just the image of a young woman standing on the edge of a lake with water so blue it reminded him of sapphires, and he had seen some vey high quality sapphires in his time. In fact, from an aesthetic standpoint, it had been a very beautiful painting. But something about it had just rubbed him the wrong way, the odd stillness of the water perhaps or the expression on her face—turned just enough away so that you couldn't quite make it out. Somehow…somehow, he got the feeling that he wouldn't like the way she smiled.

But he digressed. What had happened after that? He'd gotten the painting easily and left the house, choosing a route different from the one everyone else thought he'd be taking—because of course, a good thief never really gave away his secrets—and he'd almost reached his destination when…when what?

Then something unexpected had happened, something like suddenly walking into a dream. Because he'd dropped from a rooftop into an alleyway only to turn and see her—the same woman who stood in the painting, he was sure of it—standing at the mouth of the alley with her back to him. And she had turned and smiled at him, and everything went dark.

He'd been right. He hadn't liked that smile one bit.

So then the question was, where was he now? Had she…had the painting somehow brought him here?

Hmm, somehow, he felt like he should be more shocked by this. But he was still riding high on adrenaline. He was in a museum at night after hours where he wasn't supposed to be. Yes, he'd definitely missed this. In any case, first thing was first. He had to get out of here and figure out what the hell was going on so he could find a way back to some place he recognized and home.

Stealing out into the open air with the ease and silence of the phantom thief he had once called himself, Kaito made his way up to the roof of one of the museum's towers. But instead of skyscrapers and blazing streetlights above streets bustling with cars and people, the city that lay spread out before him seemed to take after an older style, like a scene out of a European fairytale. The architecture sort of reminded him of Italy, but at the same time it felt off somehow, different. And then there was the fact that the security guards he'd passed on the way up had been speaking Japanese.

Shaking his head, Kaito dug his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. It wasn't like he'd been to every place on Earth. Of course there were going to be cities he didn't recognize. And if it was a little more picturesque than he thought still existed, that was something to be enjoyed and not bothered by... Right?

"The number you have dialed is not in service. Please try again."

Kaito frowned, Well, that was odd. His phone should have worked from anywhere in the world. Unless something had happened to Shinichi's phone? Still, that should have taken him to voicemail or something. Giving his head a slight shake, he canceled the call and tried again.

"The number you have dialed is not in service. Please try again."

Slowly, Kaito shut his cell phone and leaned back against the wall, staring blankly at the cityscape stretching out below. None of the numbers in his phone were working. He couldn't reach Shinichi, couldn't reach Hakuba, couldn't reach his mother or Aoko or Hattori. He'd even given Nakamouri-keibu a try.

"You know," he said at last, addressing the empty air with false joviality, "somehow, I don't think I'm in Tokyo anymore."

An idea was beginning to form in the back of his mind, but Kaito tread around it with caution. Logically, it didn't seem possible. But then who was he to speak of impossibilities?

"I get the feeling this isn't even my world anymore."

"That's because it isn't."

The whisper carried with it an odd chill that clung to the formerly warm breeze and Kaito spun around, prepared to lunge or run as necessary. The sight that greeted him would have made his eyes widen if he hadn't had such thorough control over his expression. For standing just a few feet away from him was a woman dressed all in white with her silver hair falling in waves down her back—the same woman who had been in that accursed painting.

"Did you bring me here?" Kaito asked bluntly, not in the mood for games.

"And if we were?"


We? What did she mean by we?

Her inhuman, silver eyes flickered towards the city then back onto his face, abruptly intense with a strange mixture of hunger and wistfulness. "Because you have something we want."

Kaito snorted. Well of course, what had he expected? It was a typical enough reason for kidnapping someone, and he supposed that the fact that the kidnapper was a work of art made little difference. What he really wanted to know was how he could get back home.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what it is you want?"

"We don't have to. All you have to be is here."

"You can't keep me here." At least Kaito hoped not; if there was a way in, there had to be a way out—he had to believe that.

As if she had read his mind, a strange smile twisted the woman's lips though the rest of her face remained unchanged, making her look slightly mad. "We'll see."

And then she was gone as soundlessly and as suddenly as she had appeared, leaving Kaito to grin humorlessly at the space where she had been. "Yes, I suppose we shall."


Another world…

Shinichi stared blankly at the item the witch had left upon the table for a long time after the women had left. He just couldn't seem to quite wrap his mind around the idea, but there was no denying that he'd been unable to track the magician down. And he was confident enough in his own skills and Kaito's ability to leave clues behind to know that there was something wrong with that. And then there were the strange circumstances of the murders to take into account.

The question for the moment then wasn't whether or not Kaito was in another world, or even what a murderous piece of artwork wanted with him—though Shinichi would really like to know. The question was, how was Shinichi going to get there and bring him back?

Hesitating for only a moment, Shinichi reached out and gingerly retrieved the pendant on its thin, silver chain. It was shaped into a severely styalized feather, its curving tip cradling a single crystal that seemed clear at first glance but exhibited traces of purple and blue if held up against the sunlight.

"In a few days from now when the moon is full, put this on before you sleep," the witch had said. "If your desire to find your way is great enough, it will take you there. I'm sure Kuroba will make sure of that."

Closing his fingers about the small, seemingly innocuous trinket, Shinichi stood and made his way out of the restaurant.

At least the witch had really seemed to know what she was talking about. And hopefully, Kaito would be all right until he got there.