Ficlet
Player: masterofthepen
Subject: Naoto, Hakuba, and Kaitou Kid (used with permission!)
Table: A [ Prompt Tables]
Prompt: 22. Blood
“Hand over the jewel,” the man in the black trenchcoat said. “Or your detective friend gets it!”
Hakuba fixed the man with an icy stare. “Don't do it, Kid. He'll kill us all anyway...”
“Shut up!” Kid said. Hit bit his lower lip in frustration as a low growl rumbled deep in his chest. Stupid! How could he let this happen?
Naoto looked from one to the other as the man in black, flanked by several men dressed in white suits, kept his pistol trained on Hakuba. He clutched at the yo-yo in his right hand with a white knuckled grip. Shit. If only he'd had his pistol... No. The minute he tried to draw it, that guy-Snake, was it?-would pull the trigger and Hakuba would be dead. And even if they were in range of his yo-yo, he'd only be able to take out one of them.
Things were looking pretty grim right now...
“You've got three seconds to make your decision,” Snake said. “Now, hand over the jewel!”
Hakuba shouted, “Don't listen to him! You can't let him take it!”
“One...”
Kid: “Shut up! I won't let you get yourself killed over this!”
“Two...”
Naoto's heart banged against his chest painfully. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?
Before he was aware of what was happening, his body seemed to move of it's own accord. His boots pounded against the tile floor of the museum lobby, sending harsh echoes toward the vaulted ceiling.
“Three!”
There was the resounding crash of gunfire. Naoto extended his left arm and slammed it into Hakuba's chest with all his might. The blond detective stumbled backward and landed on his rear.
Suddenly, Naoto's shoulder exploded in pain and heat. It felt like the force of a speeding train had just hit him in a spot the size of a silver dollar. He uttered a single cry of agony as the force of impact sent him sprawling face first to the floor. His hat fell from his head. The yo-yo which had been clutched in his right hand fell from his grasp and bounced to the floor.
Hakuba watched, frozen, as the bright red yo-yo rolled toward him slowly and bumped into the toe of his shoe before it toppled over.
“Naoto...” he whispered, his eyes growing wide with horror. His gaze centered once more on the lifeless body of the boy detective. As blood blossomed on the white fabric of his dress shirt, he screamed, “Naoto!”
Naoto was dimly aware of the fact that someone was calling his name. But it sounded so far away, like someone had dialed down the volume on a television set. There were sirens wailing. The distant thunder of explosions. Several bright flashes of light reflected against the polished tile floor. Lightening, maybe?
Screams. Shouting. The sound of boot heels clicking against tile, retreating from him. Angry voices.
Slowly, the boy detective pushed himself up from the floor. He gritted his teeth as searing pain ripped through his left shoulder and down his arm. Resting his weight on his right hand, Naoto raised his left hand and stared at it. There was nothing wrong with it. So then why...?
His gaze traveled along his arm and he noticed a dark red stain slowly spreading across the left side of his body. Naoto sucked in a breath as he looked downward and saw the splatters of blood on the floor, the dark smudge where he'd been laying only moments before.
And then, he screamed. His voice rose to an impossibly high pitch. He let his left arm sag to the floor and stared at the blood staining his shirt. There was nothing else he could do. He was afraid to look away, afraid to touch the wound, afraid to move his arm.
Hurried footsteps, then someone's hand resting on his shoulder. “Naoto!”
Slowly, Naoto raised his head as another scream built in his throat. Hakuba was staring at him with dark eyes the color of garnets.
“Ha-Haku... ba...?” Naoto asked, his breath coming in frantic, shallow gasps.
“I'm here, Naoto. Just stay calm.” Despite his assuring words, Hakuba couldn't keep the tremor of rising terror from his voice. “I need to put pressue on the wound, to stop the bleeding, understand?”
Naoto nodded mechanically, his eyes round and face stiff with shock. Hakuba tore off his coat and wadded it up before clamping it down over Naoto's shoulder. The boy screamed again, that same ear-splitting screech from before. Pain. So much pain. It hurt so much!
“Shirogane!” Another voice-Kid's voice-floated from the distance. He hurried toward them and knelt by his side. His gaze immediately flicked to Hakuba. “Call an ambulance, hurry!”
“But the wound-”
“I'll take care of it! Just make the call!”
The blond detective nodded and stood. Those sirens were steadily growing closer. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the emergency line.
Meanwhile, Kid grabbed Naoto by the upper arms and held him firmly. “Lie down.”
Naoto nodded again, trembling, as Kid gently forced him to lie on his back. The phantom thief wrapped the jacket around Naoto's shoulder to cover both the entry and exit wounds, and pressed down on it with both hands. A high-pitched scream joined the wailing sirens which drew ever closer to the museum. Tears squeezed out of the corners of Naoto's eyes. He continued to gulp down short, shallow breaths of air.
Shit... Kid's brows knit with worry. He's going into shock...
Naoto gazed up into Kid's face and wondered, briefly, why he looked so scared. Even with the top hat and monocle obscuring his features, he looked so young. But Naoto's vision was blurred by both tears and pain, so perhaps he imagined the look. He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer.
Hakuba clicked the cellphone closed and knelt by Naoto's side once more. He put a hand to the boy's forehead. The flesh was cold and clammy, covered with sweat.
“Hakuba,” Kid said. “Take my cape and cover his body with it. We have to keep his body temperature up.”
There was only a moment's hesitation before Hakuba unclasped the white cape from Kid's shoulders and draped it over Naoto's shivering body.
Kid said, “Now, take over here for me, would you?” He removed his hands from the wound and stepped aside while Hakuba applied pressure once more. Kid stared at his white gloves and bit back a curse. Blood had already seeped through the jacket enough to stain them. This was bad. Very bad.
“What happened to Snake and the others?” Hakuba asked. The sound of his voice snapped Kid to attention.
“I distracted them with a few flash grenades,” Kid said. “They heard the sirens and decided to cut their losses.” He stared down at Naoto and his right hand clenched into a fist. “I've got to go now. But I'll follow you to the hopsital in disguise.”
“My... hat...” Naoto said between breaths, his voice barely above a whisper. “My... Daddy's...”
Kid quickly looked around and noticed the navy blue cabbie hat lying forlornly on the floor. He picked it up, along with the yo-yo and brought them to Naoto. He laid both items on the boy's stomach.
“There. This is what you wanted, right?”
Naoto feebly reached up with his right hand and touched his hat. Tears continued to stream from beneath his closed eyelids.
“Daddy...” he whimpered as another bolt of pain stabbed at his shoulder. The sound of sirens was right outside the building. Red and blue lights flashed through the glass entryway to the lobby.
“I have to go now,” Kid said, touching Naoto's hand with his fingertips. “But I promise to watch over you, okay?”
And with those words, Kid whirled around and raced deeper into the dark depths of the museum and disappeared into the shadows.
Naoto could hear more footsteps and harsh voices, but Hakuba's soft, urgent voice drowned them out.
“Naoto, stay with me, understand? Everything's going to be all right.”
The boy detective smiled feebly. His eyes opened a fraction. “I'm... glad I was able... to protect... you...”
Hakuba pursed his lips. There might have been tears in his eyes.
As Naoto closed his eyes, he thought he could hear Hakuba calling his name with desperate urgency. Even as the darkness of his fading consciousness overtook him, the smile never once left his face...
Subject: Naoto, Hakuba, and Kaitou Kid (used with permission!)
Table: A [ Prompt Tables]
Prompt: 22. Blood
“Hand over the jewel,” the man in the black trenchcoat said. “Or your detective friend gets it!”
Hakuba fixed the man with an icy stare. “Don't do it, Kid. He'll kill us all anyway...”
“Shut up!” Kid said. Hit bit his lower lip in frustration as a low growl rumbled deep in his chest. Stupid! How could he let this happen?
Naoto looked from one to the other as the man in black, flanked by several men dressed in white suits, kept his pistol trained on Hakuba. He clutched at the yo-yo in his right hand with a white knuckled grip. Shit. If only he'd had his pistol... No. The minute he tried to draw it, that guy-Snake, was it?-would pull the trigger and Hakuba would be dead. And even if they were in range of his yo-yo, he'd only be able to take out one of them.
Things were looking pretty grim right now...
“You've got three seconds to make your decision,” Snake said. “Now, hand over the jewel!”
Hakuba shouted, “Don't listen to him! You can't let him take it!”
“One...”
Kid: “Shut up! I won't let you get yourself killed over this!”
“Two...”
Naoto's heart banged against his chest painfully. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?
Before he was aware of what was happening, his body seemed to move of it's own accord. His boots pounded against the tile floor of the museum lobby, sending harsh echoes toward the vaulted ceiling.
“Three!”
There was the resounding crash of gunfire. Naoto extended his left arm and slammed it into Hakuba's chest with all his might. The blond detective stumbled backward and landed on his rear.
Suddenly, Naoto's shoulder exploded in pain and heat. It felt like the force of a speeding train had just hit him in a spot the size of a silver dollar. He uttered a single cry of agony as the force of impact sent him sprawling face first to the floor. His hat fell from his head. The yo-yo which had been clutched in his right hand fell from his grasp and bounced to the floor.
Hakuba watched, frozen, as the bright red yo-yo rolled toward him slowly and bumped into the toe of his shoe before it toppled over.
“Naoto...” he whispered, his eyes growing wide with horror. His gaze centered once more on the lifeless body of the boy detective. As blood blossomed on the white fabric of his dress shirt, he screamed, “Naoto!”
Naoto was dimly aware of the fact that someone was calling his name. But it sounded so far away, like someone had dialed down the volume on a television set. There were sirens wailing. The distant thunder of explosions. Several bright flashes of light reflected against the polished tile floor. Lightening, maybe?
Screams. Shouting. The sound of boot heels clicking against tile, retreating from him. Angry voices.
Slowly, the boy detective pushed himself up from the floor. He gritted his teeth as searing pain ripped through his left shoulder and down his arm. Resting his weight on his right hand, Naoto raised his left hand and stared at it. There was nothing wrong with it. So then why...?
His gaze traveled along his arm and he noticed a dark red stain slowly spreading across the left side of his body. Naoto sucked in a breath as he looked downward and saw the splatters of blood on the floor, the dark smudge where he'd been laying only moments before.
And then, he screamed. His voice rose to an impossibly high pitch. He let his left arm sag to the floor and stared at the blood staining his shirt. There was nothing else he could do. He was afraid to look away, afraid to touch the wound, afraid to move his arm.
Hurried footsteps, then someone's hand resting on his shoulder. “Naoto!”
Slowly, Naoto raised his head as another scream built in his throat. Hakuba was staring at him with dark eyes the color of garnets.
“Ha-Haku... ba...?” Naoto asked, his breath coming in frantic, shallow gasps.
“I'm here, Naoto. Just stay calm.” Despite his assuring words, Hakuba couldn't keep the tremor of rising terror from his voice. “I need to put pressue on the wound, to stop the bleeding, understand?”
Naoto nodded mechanically, his eyes round and face stiff with shock. Hakuba tore off his coat and wadded it up before clamping it down over Naoto's shoulder. The boy screamed again, that same ear-splitting screech from before. Pain. So much pain. It hurt so much!
“Shirogane!” Another voice-Kid's voice-floated from the distance. He hurried toward them and knelt by his side. His gaze immediately flicked to Hakuba. “Call an ambulance, hurry!”
“But the wound-”
“I'll take care of it! Just make the call!”
The blond detective nodded and stood. Those sirens were steadily growing closer. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the emergency line.
Meanwhile, Kid grabbed Naoto by the upper arms and held him firmly. “Lie down.”
Naoto nodded again, trembling, as Kid gently forced him to lie on his back. The phantom thief wrapped the jacket around Naoto's shoulder to cover both the entry and exit wounds, and pressed down on it with both hands. A high-pitched scream joined the wailing sirens which drew ever closer to the museum. Tears squeezed out of the corners of Naoto's eyes. He continued to gulp down short, shallow breaths of air.
Shit... Kid's brows knit with worry. He's going into shock...
Naoto gazed up into Kid's face and wondered, briefly, why he looked so scared. Even with the top hat and monocle obscuring his features, he looked so young. But Naoto's vision was blurred by both tears and pain, so perhaps he imagined the look. He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer.
Hakuba clicked the cellphone closed and knelt by Naoto's side once more. He put a hand to the boy's forehead. The flesh was cold and clammy, covered with sweat.
“Hakuba,” Kid said. “Take my cape and cover his body with it. We have to keep his body temperature up.”
There was only a moment's hesitation before Hakuba unclasped the white cape from Kid's shoulders and draped it over Naoto's shivering body.
Kid said, “Now, take over here for me, would you?” He removed his hands from the wound and stepped aside while Hakuba applied pressure once more. Kid stared at his white gloves and bit back a curse. Blood had already seeped through the jacket enough to stain them. This was bad. Very bad.
“What happened to Snake and the others?” Hakuba asked. The sound of his voice snapped Kid to attention.
“I distracted them with a few flash grenades,” Kid said. “They heard the sirens and decided to cut their losses.” He stared down at Naoto and his right hand clenched into a fist. “I've got to go now. But I'll follow you to the hopsital in disguise.”
“My... hat...” Naoto said between breaths, his voice barely above a whisper. “My... Daddy's...”
Kid quickly looked around and noticed the navy blue cabbie hat lying forlornly on the floor. He picked it up, along with the yo-yo and brought them to Naoto. He laid both items on the boy's stomach.
“There. This is what you wanted, right?”
Naoto feebly reached up with his right hand and touched his hat. Tears continued to stream from beneath his closed eyelids.
“Daddy...” he whimpered as another bolt of pain stabbed at his shoulder. The sound of sirens was right outside the building. Red and blue lights flashed through the glass entryway to the lobby.
“I have to go now,” Kid said, touching Naoto's hand with his fingertips. “But I promise to watch over you, okay?”
And with those words, Kid whirled around and raced deeper into the dark depths of the museum and disappeared into the shadows.
Naoto could hear more footsteps and harsh voices, but Hakuba's soft, urgent voice drowned them out.
“Naoto, stay with me, understand? Everything's going to be all right.”
The boy detective smiled feebly. His eyes opened a fraction. “I'm... glad I was able... to protect... you...”
Hakuba pursed his lips. There might have been tears in his eyes.
As Naoto closed his eyes, he thought he could hear Hakuba calling his name with desperate urgency. Even as the darkness of his fading consciousness overtook him, the smile never once left his face...