Kaito gazed into the blank space of the room with emptiness in his eyes. His mother's words reverberated somewhere in his barren void. All of the visitors of today's event were like flickering shadows in his eyes. Everything was like a blur. The boy's eyes turned to the smiling portrait of an old man standing upright on the table, encircled with a rainbow of flowers. Their sweet fragrance filled the air. But the redolence didn't have the power to comfort the black sea of mourning faces.

Jii-chan...

Kaito bit his lips, he could feel the stinging sensation of tears swelling in his eyes- his lips were beginning to quiver. Deep down, Kaito wished he could have shown his sincere gratitude towards his father's loyal friend and assistant earlier. After all, the old man had pretty much aided him in every single heist he had organised, even the most ridiculous ones. And not mention the man had acted like a grandfather figure to him throughout the years. Filling up the void that his father had unwillingly left behind.

But now, it was too late. Jii-chan was gone.

It had been a while since he had experienced the emotion, grief. If he could recall correctly, the last time he had lamented for someone was his father, at his funeral, all those years ago. Grief was like a thief. It had crept up on him quietly and before he knew it, the feeling took hold of his soul, threatening to consume him entirely.

He never wanted to experience that emotion again.

Glancing sideways, he winced at his mother's tear-stained face. Her mascara had smudged, mostly from the river of tears. The woman's trembling hand didn't go unnoticed, as Kaito's fingers reached out and grasped it firmly. Kaito was obscurely glad when the action stopped. Giving her son an affectionate smile, Chikage wiped tears onto her sleeve and rested on Kaito's shoulder. The pair observed in taciturnity at the passers for a good several minutes.

"Can I step out for a bit?" Kaito eventually requested unostentatiously. Chikage nodded nonchalantly, giving her son another tender, melancholy smile. The boy feebly mirrored the gesture.

Hopefully one of his mother's friends would take over the task of soothing her. As Kaito agonizingly walked through the halls towards the exit, he noticed the crowd of policemen hanging about, mainly protecting the building's entrance. He felt a gush of discomfiture surge up when he spotted Aoko and her father, Nakamori Ginzo. Kaito was too busy gathering his thoughts to notice the girl approaching. And by the time he had drifted back to actuality, the boy was insignificantly alarmed to find his childhood friend's concerned eyes penetrating right into his soul. 

 Eek.

"Kaito..." Aoko's dishearten voice caught the boy's attention. Plastering on a smile, the boy greeted the brunette with a nod. "Heya Aoko," the boy spoke with obvious fake cheerfulness, waiting for the other to respond. The girl lowered her head slightly, her eyes fell to the floor. A blanket of silence wafted between them.

"I-I'm sorry for what happened to Jii-san." The girl eventually uttered.

Kaito remained silent. Noticing this, the girl continued. "I just want you to know that if you need anything or need a shoulder to cry on, I'll always have your back....." the girl dawdled off. Kaito couldn't help but smile appreciatively at the girl's soothing advice.

Taking a step forward, Kaito lightly settled his hand on her shoulder. Allowing his reliable poker face to slip onto his face. Through his fingers, he could feel the coldness and slight dampness on the girl's clothing's fabric. 

"You don't have to worry about me" came the withdrawn reply. Yet Aoko could hear the anguish in boy's voice. The girl clenched her fist tightly. 

Liar.

"Stop acting so tough. It's ok to cry sometimes." Aoko mumbled. But her words fell into stubborn ears as she soon realised Kaito was no longer next to her. Stupid Bakaito.

The least he could do was listen to her instead of pushing her away over and over again.

The girl fought back her frustration as she elected to return to her father's side. The girl failed to see the shadowy silhouette slip through the building's doors as it closed with a click.