Kaitou dodged behind a nearby building, narrowly avoiding yet another bullet. His breathing was ragged, almost as ragged as his clothes were by this point. Every breath he took was a struggle against hacking up a lung. The nearby fire smoke wasn't much help in breathing department, not to mention helping him to see very well either.
Kaitou counted to ten before scaling the building, another bullet whizzing past where his head would have been. He smirked, although it could have also been a grimace. He wasn't really sure.
"Heh, I'm getting pretty good at this."
He braced himself as reached the roof. The sound of the helicopter was still far off, but it wouldn't be long. Kaitou vaulted up and over the edge of the roof, the remains of his white cloak grasping at the wind. Kaitou ran to the door leading to the floors below, conscious of (and studiously ignoring,) the gunmen sighting down at the streets below. With practiced skill he opened and closed the door before a single gun could go off.
"So far so good." Kaitou muttered.
Not bothering to even make an attempt at stealth, Kaitou pushed his already taxed body as fast as it could go down the stairs. Not so much a sprint as a controlled fall. Without the burn of smoke or the possibility of airborne attackers, it didn't take long for him to reach the lobby of the hotel.
Ducking behind a nearby column, Kaitou tried to catch his breath. Kaitou looked at his watch and frowned.
"Hmmm...That doesn't leave much time for dillying or dallying." Kaitou glanced around at the lobby, noting the position of everyone in the room. Not that he really needed to anymore.
Conan was standing behind the check in desk, talking into his bowtie while a passed out Mouri-"san" slumped against the front. Two girls were huddled together next to a slightly overweight police chief, all of them transfixed by whatever the solution to the current mystery was.
The others didn't matter. Random hotel guests and staff stood awkwardly around the room. Kaitou frowned to himself.
"These people must be really deaf to not hear that racket outside." Kaitou looked out the glass front doors.
People were running and screaming in all different directions. Most were uninjured, but some sported some really nasty wounds. These being led by paramedics to the nearest hospital tent. They had to be treated on site due to the fact that the streets were blocked with burning rubble. He couldn't see it, but he knew that there were more paramedics at the destroyed building, looking for survivors.
A small shiver of regret went through his body at the sight, a dark feeling of guilt followed it soon after. Kaitou pushed both of the distracting feeling aside. Now wasn't the time. Kaitou watched the front doors carefully. Waiting.
A woman came running towards the hotel, clutching a small bundle to her chest. Kaitou tensed. The small detective walked out from behind the desk and froze as he finally became aware of the outside world. Just when Conan tried to alert the policeman, the woman reached the front door.
Kaitou leaped out and made a mad dash towards the impending chaos.
Time slowed for Kaitou, those few essential seconds stretching into minutes, then hours, his goal so painfully far away.
Maybe this time would be different.
To any survivors of the incident, it had all happened to fast to describe. One moment it was just another peaceful Tokyo day, in the next glass was shattered everywhere. Figures lay in clumps on the floor, some moaning in pain, but most were silent. The front desk was riddled with bullet holes, splinters finding their way into fleshy new homes. Dust filled the air, plaster streaming from the ceiling. Those that would remember would only recall one horrifying blur.
But he knew exactly what had happened.
The helicopter had finally arrived as the woman had reached the doors. The gunmen had fired straight through her and the doors, indiscriminately hitting the patrons inside. The desk was the focal point, being specially targeted for the young boy standing near it.
"Y-you?" Kaitou smiled. Maybe this time. Maybe this time it would finally work.
Conan pushed Kaitou so he was lying on his back and not on Conan's legs. Kaitou chuckled. Conan was making such a funny face he couldn't help it.
Kaitou tried to push himself up but fell back again. The pain was back. He had kept it at bay nearly all afternoon, but it had finally caught up with him. Conan pushed on Kaitou's shoulders to restrain him from attempting at getting up; as if he would.
"Are you crazy? Just stay down! Don't move! I-I have to stop the bleeding." Conan took off his jacked and started ripping it into bandages.
Kaitou did as he was told. He knew where he had been hit; it just didn't hurt to try.
Maybe this time it would be different.
He could feel his blood seeping out onto the unforgiving tile. He felt Conan start to wrap his neck with the ruined jacket, adding pressure to stop the bleeding.
One shot to the jugular, another three to the chest. One more grazed his side with a few more lucky shots to the arms and legs.
They weren't really lucky though. By now they were expected, although the knowledge did nothing to stem the pain. There was a cut on his upper left arm, another on his hand. Another shot had imbedded itself right in the fleshy part of his upper right thigh while yet another had punched its way through his knee. But the saddest of all, was that his prize white hat had been shot off. It was a pity, really. He had managed to keep it on for most of the day only to be lost in the last few moments.
"Shh. It's going to be okay. We'll get you another hat. Just hang on." Kaitou looked up to see tears in Conan's eyes, try as he might to hide it. He realized he must have started to talk out loud. That was new. Maybe it really was different this time around.
Kaitou reached up with his uninjured hand and rested it on Conan's trembling one's.
"Don't worry Shinichi. I'll see you again tomorrow."
He didn't know why, but Conan burst out in tears at his words. Really, after he had spent so long working on them. Conan's reaction was always the most interesting part of his day. It was always different at least.
Conan pushed harder on the fatal wound in Kaitou's neck.
"You idiot!" Kaitou smirked.
"That's more like it."
Conan cried even harder, wishing that the stupid magician would open his eyes, laugh at him for being so foolish, and disappear like he always did. He sat like that for what felt like hours, heedless of the hundreds of people crying out around him. He ignored Mouri's yelling and Ran's begging, just focusing on the still figure before him.
"Why? Why did you do it?"
But he didn't answer. Kaitou lay there, in his tattered and blood-soaked suit, smirking up at the world.
Kaitou Kid was dead.
A/N: Sorry this is so short. I'm writing my best shot for a friend's request of mine. Think of it as a really cheap Grad. present. XD I'm not really good at this fandom, so no huge flames if you please. At most this will be a three chapter thing. At worst, i'll never get around to putting up a second chapter. So, you all know what that means! R&R!