They'll be calling the others, too. All of Grampa's children will hear. They didn't know like I did, but they'll know soon enough--they'll find out that today was that day. And when they do, they'll all come here, to the Old House, to grieve together like a family should.

Dad will be calling soon. As soon as he hears. He'll probably be the first one here, too. I'm still his son, after all. He'll probably offer my old room to me, too, if I want to move back in with him. But I don't...this is the only place I could ever call home. This is my Grampa's house.

I hear a familiar rustle and hurry to dry my eyes; I know who it is, and I know why he's come. He probably only stayed with Grampa long enough to see the job done, to make sure the magics stayed intact as the body was taken away, so the world wouldn't find out the truth.

I look up. He's standing in the doorway, hair tousled and wings visible, breathing deeply. He must've flown straight here as fast as he could.

His face is tight and filled with more shadows than usual. His eyes, normally the same deep blue as Grampa's, are strangely grayish. "Aoi-kun..." he says, but I think the look on my face tells him what he needs to know.

I stand up to greet him, but there's no "Hello" or "Good morning" that could ever work. This isn't a good morning, and "How are you?" is a stupid question right now. "Uncle Shinichi..." I crmukashi, feeling my eyes start to sting. "He's gone...he's gone..."

I didn't expect him to, but he takes long steps across the kitchen and hugs me, pulling me into an embrace that's warm and real. I can smell Grampa on him. And his scent, tinted black with Death that's strong but not sour; somehow it reminds me of Grampa too--a soft spicy fox-smell, except with a hint of feathers.

You'd think a Shinigami would be as cold as Death. But Uncle Shinichi isn't--he's warm, and he feels strong and safe. He's here, and it's all real--this isn't a nightmare. Grampa's really dead.

I haven't cried since I was a kit, but I'm crying now. Somehow Uncle Shinichi's embrace breaks down that wall of numbness inside me, and everything comes gushing out in hot tears. How much I love my Grampa, how badly I miss him already, how it'll never be the same without him...

I'm just sobbing into Uncle Shinichi's shoulder, and he's rubbing my back and soothing me like I'm a seven-year-old kit again. I'm supposed to be a man now, but right now I don't care that I'm crying like a child. Right now I need this. I need someone to care how much I hurt.

He cares. It's in the soft tone of his voice as he tells me it'll be okay, in the feel of his hug that tells me this time he's really hurting too, and we're in it together and he really does care about me and he wants to help.

I remember...Uncle Shinichi was there for Grampa, that night nine years ago. The night Gramma Aoko died. He was there, and he helped.

Dad told me he was there when Mom died, helping him through it.

Aunt Aomi will never forget the day her son was killed. He was with her then, too.

And now he's here for me.

A Shinigami who deals out Death, who feeds off it--but this Shinigami is here with me now, trying to heal this pain in my heart from Grampa's death. Even if he's the one who caused it, and I should hate him for doing it...I can't. He's Uncle Shinichi, who's always been there for all of us, soothing the tears away, offering hope to us when we're left behind, left alone...

I've never heard of any other God of Death who would do the same.

I don't know how long it's been, standing here crying all over Uncle Shinichi's coat. It still hurts too much to care how long, and I don't really want to look at the clock to find out. I don't want to try to count the seconds, the hours--the days and weeks and years--it'll be before it stops hurting.

Maybe this is just a shadow of what Grampa's been living with for nine long years.

And suddenly, even though I miss him and it hurts, I understand why he had to die. Why he wanted to go. Because he was feeling this a thousand times worse the night Gramma died, and it never really healed. It couldn't heal, not with half his soul ripped away like that.

Her death was the mortal wound that killed him--not whatever incident that guy on the phone was talking about, not the hands of the Shinigami trying to comfort me right now; it was her death that broke his heart and tore it in two, leaving him to bleed.

I understand a little better now. Grampa's been dying slowly, little by little, every day since then.

Today was just the day it finally ended.

And knowing that Grampa's not hurting any more, that he's happy wherever he is now--that gives me the strength to to try to stop sobbing, let go of Uncle Shinichi and try to stand on my own.

"Aoi-kun?" he asks softly, reaching out with one arm to steady me. "Are you going to be okay?"

I can't talk yet, so I nod, and he produces a handkerchief from somewhere and offers it to me to wipe my face. With the storms of sobbing gone, I'm starting to realize how silly I must look, a grown hanyou crying like a baby.

"I'm gonna miss him..." I crmukashi lamely, once I feel like my voice will halfway work. It's a stupidly obvious thing to say, but it's true.

"I know," Uncle Shinichi replies, and there's a redness to his eyes that I've never seen before. It's almost a shock to realize he might be as close to crying as he's ever come. "Me too. He's--he was...my best friend, really." It must be because I'm staring at him, but he glances away and clears his throat roughly. "And I know he's not coming back, not even as a ghost... He's where he wants to be; he has no unfinished business here."

I want to protest that he does, even though I know it's selfish. What about us, what about Kaitou Kid, what about that stupid Organization we're supposed to destroy?

The look in Uncle Shinichi's eyes when they meet mine is enough--Grampa left nothing undone, no loose ends. He made sure everything was ready for me--and what was not finished by his hands, he left for mine. Because...he believed that I could do it. That I would.

"I know how you're feeling," Uncle Shinichi says, as we sit down in the chairs at the small kitchen table. "And to be honest...one of Kaito's biggest regrets was how hard this is going to be on To-kun and Aomi-chan and especially on you. You know how much he cares about all of you."

I nod, my throat closing up again at the reminder.

"All of us, all his family and friends--we each hold a piece of his heart," he tells me quietly. "It's just that...Aoko has the biggest part of it--enough that it surpasses all of us put together. He had to go with her," he explains, with a strangely haunted conviction.

I can't hate Gramma Aoko for being ningen, for being mortal, for dying and taking Grampa's heart with her. She loved all of us nearly as much as she loved him, and she'd still be with us if she'd had her way.

It took courage for Grampa to love her, to let her see all of who and what he was, to give his heart and soul to a frail human and love her with everything that was in him. It took courage for her to love him, too--to know him and not be afraid of him, to accept him and understand him and love him with every fiber of her being.

They faced down the obstacles of fear and difference, and stayed together until only death could make them part. And even when it did, it couldn't keep them apart for long.

"And even with that much weighing on him," Uncle Shinichi says softly, "he still made sure that we would all be okay before he went." A faint snort. "He even made sure to leave me a 'mystery' to keep me occupied..."

I wonder if he's just kept talking to hold back his own grief, his own tears. His voice is strange, and I've never seen him like this. I didn't think Shinigami ever got sad over deaths...but apparently I was wrong. "Uncle Shinichi," I ask, my own voice still rough and shaky from crying, "are you gonna be okay?"

He looks so startled at me, for a second. Like he'd never expected anyone to notice he's hurting too. But then again, if everyone else thinks that way about him, they probably wouldn't. Just because he's always so calm and cool, so unruffled and confident in any situation we've ever seen him...that doesn't mean he doesn't feel grief when one of his friends dies. Even if he is a Shinigami.

But there's faint appreciation in his eyes that even I can see, as he nods and smiles slightly at me. "Yeah. Thanks." He takes a deep breath. "I know what I promised him, but that was...one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. He would've survived that hit--I know he would have. It wasn't his time to die, but I made it his time...because he wanted..."

Something makes me decide to return the favor he showed me earlier--I reach out and put my arm around his shoulders, just above his sagging wings. A half-hug made slightly awkward by our positions at the table, but it's just as sincere as his embrace was. He drops his head a little and I can see his throat move as he swallows, and I know for sure then that he's feeling this just as much as I am.

Despite how much alike they can be, he's not as tall as Grampa; he's built lighter and thinner, probably because he's a flyer. The wings just make him look a lot bigger than he really is, just like the shadows that cling around him anywhere but in the brightest daylight make him seem way more frightening than he wants to be.

A lot of people in my family--especially Mom's family--are afraid of him. I think I'm one of the very few who aren't. He has the power to kill with a touch, a glance, a thought. And that makes a lot of people scared of him, even mistrustful or hateful. Just his name has the power to make youko in our family shiver; people will go silent when he comes into a room, or they'll even leave altogether if he comes to a party or gathering.

It was all explained to me when I was younger; Uncle Shinichi's half kitsune, just like Grampa and me--you can even still smell it in him, faintly, under the scent of Death. But somehow, because of some obscure quirk in youko genetics, he came out completely different from either of his parents--not a half-breed kitsune-tengu, but a Shinigami. A God of Death.

I've met a few other Shinigami--a group of them, just once, with Uncle Shinichi. It's not an experience I'd like to repeat, not for the rest of my life. I didn't think I'd mind them so much, because I'm used to Uncle Shinichi--I know him, I trust him, and I'm not afraid of him.

Uncle Shinichi can be scary sometimes, especially when he's angry. I know what he can do. But compared to those cold, shadowy beings, whose mere presence made all my fur stand on end, whose black gazes made me tremble clear down into my soul...

He's nothing like them. He's kind and friendly and caring and warm, no matter how dangerous he is.

I'm not afraid of him--why should I be? He's my Uncle Shinichi. I've known him all my life. And Shinigami or not, right now he's missing Grampa just like I am.

He clears his throat awkwardly and resettles his wings, and I withdraw my arm as he looks up into my eyes again. "We need you more than ever, Aoi-kun," he tells me earnestly. "We've got a lot of work to do now. I don't know how much you got when the officials called the family, but it was them. The car that hit him--they were behind it. But people saw the hit and run. The police know about it now."

There's a rare excitement in him, along with the sadness. He's been fighting the Organization since he was a kid my age--and even though he doesn't even look much older than me, that was almost a century ago. The chance to get them at last is making him tense with anticipation, his wings trembling with sudden restless energy.

"You need the Kid," I state, starting to feel strangely shaky.

"We need you," he tells me again, with emphasis. "Kaito left a lot of things in your hands. He knew you could do it--and I believe in you, too. If we're finally going to nail the bastards, you're gonna need everything he taught you. Because we need you fighting beside us, just like we needed him."

I'm not ready for so much. I feel so small, like a toddling kit, at the thought of trying to fill Grampa's shoes. He's done so much...he is so much...I don't think I'll ever measure up to him. It makes me miss him anew all over again, stinging my eyes with hot tears.

He's gone, just when we need him most--when I need him most--even if it was his death that sparked all of this...

"What can I do?" I find myself rasping faintly, wiping away fresh tears with the back of one hand. "I'm not him...I'm not Kuroba Kaito. Nobody could be like him..."

"No, they can't," he says firmly, his own eyes bright and glistening with tears I don't think I'll ever get to see. "No one in the world could be like Kaito. But I'm not asking you to replace him, Aoi-kun. I'm asking you to pick up where he left off--like all those times he would pass a juggle to you. I'm asking you to take up what he left for you and I to do."

"I...I don't know if I can..." I'm afraid. I don't know if I can do it alone--Grampa's not here to help me, not here to coach and teach and support me...

"He knew you could," Uncle Shinichi insists. "He told me that he believes in you. He's been training you all this time because he knew he was going to die before everything was over, and he had to make sure someone could do it in his place. We need you for this, Aoi-kun--I need you. You're the only one who can do what needs to be done."

I nod, but I can't speak; again, my throat is closing up with all the emotions I can't hide. Grampa's gone and it hurts, and I miss him, and he left so much for me to do it's overwhelming. But I can't let him down--not when he worked so hard and waited so long, all for my sake, to make sure I could stand on my own before he went with Gramma Aoko.

Can I stand on my own?

I don't know for sure...I'll have to find out. But I can't disappoint him--I can't let Grampa down. I'll have to face him someday, when it's my turn. I want to be able to look him in the eye and tell him what kind of world I left behind--how I helped to shape that world, to make it better. I want to be able to tell him that his faith in me was never misplaced.

He told me this morning, before he said goodbye, how proud of me he was. I didn't understand then, and I still don't now, how he could be so proud of a stubborn, clumsy, selfish kit like me. But he is--he told me so.

Somehow I'll have to live up to what he sees in me. I want to keep making him proud, wherever he is.

"I'll do whatever you need me to do," I tell Uncle Shinichi, wishing my voice wasn't shaking so much. I wanted to sound brave, but I sound pitiful instead. "I don't know if I'll ever be as good as Grampa...but I'll try my best."

His smile is small, but genuine. "Thank you, Aoi-kun. I know you will, and that's all Kaito or I could ask."

All I can manage in response to that is a sniffle. Uncle Shinichi gives me a comforting squeeze on the shoulder, and for a while both of us just sit and think--just remember Grampa, and miss him. There are still tears trickling down my cheeks, even though I don't want to keep crying so much.

It'll take a long time for this grief to fade away--I know that. I'll never stop missing my Grampa, not for the rest of my life--I know that too. He means too much to me for me to ever stop missing him...

I'll miss his gentle goodnight every evening as I went to bed, wishing me sweet dreams and no bedbugs, even though I've been too old for that for a while now.

I'll miss having breakfast with him every morning before I head off to school, talking and sharing and getting ready to start the day.

I'll miss the way he whistled while he was feeding the doves, making them coo along with him as they perched all over him like a living clmukashi.

I'll miss watching him perform, either simple magic or the feats of Kaitou Kid, filled with awe and wonder at how amazing he was, wishing I could do those things so well and so easily.

I'll miss hearing his voice, the way he disciplined or praised me, or when he told me stories and taught me his skills, or when he told me he loved me and wished me a good day at school.

I'll miss the way he laughed, how there was always so much laughter in him and how his laugh always made me laugh too, because it was so bright and happy and contagious.

I'll miss his smile, and what it made me feel when I'd done something right or mastered a new trick or it just meant he loved me; how sometimes it meant fun and mischief or other times warmth and love--how it made me feel just having him smiling at me, knowing how much he cared about me and how proud he always was of me, and how much I always loved him...

I'll miss my Grampa for the rest of my life, and even if the pain goes away someday I'll never stop missing him, never forget him.

None of us will. Not me, not Uncle Shinichi, not any of our whole family. Grampa Kaito was just like that--unforgettable.

The silence ends when Uncle Shinichi stands up from the table with a sigh. It startles me a bit, but I stand up with him to look into his worried face.

"I should go," he tells me quietly, as different shadows show through the grief in his eyes. "Your father and the rest will be here soon, and I don't think I'm the person they want to see right now."

"But..." He's right, though. We all knew what Grampa had asked of his friend and cousin, but none of us liked it--and some were even angry with him for agreeing. I guess not all of them understand what Grampa felt--not even me, though I tried. I still don't want him to be gone...but I understand now.

"You'll be okay, Aoi-kun," he says, with an attempted smile. "Kaito was right to put his faith in you. And I believe in you, just as much as I believe in him." A deep breath. "We've got a lot to do...but not right this minute. Right now, you need to be here for your family. They need you too."

I see the shadows and the caring and the knowing in his eyes, and I understand another little part of Uncle Shinichi, too. He was here for me because he knew what I would be feeling, and he knew I needed someone. The rest of my family would get here eventually, and I would need to be ready to help them the way Uncle Shinichi helped me.

He came because he didn't want me to be alone for this--to have to grieve alone, to cry alone, after the call came and I knew Grampa was gone.

And maybe he didn't want to be alone just then, either.

The two of us, we're sort of unique in this big mixed-up family of ours. Aside from Grampa, he's the only other person as unique as me. Stuck in the middle, different from everyone else--a white Kitsune hanyou and a Shinigami who protects life. Both of us, one of a kind.

I offer him a shaky smile--my first, I think, since this morning. "I guess...the Shinigami and the Kitsune are gonna be working together again, huh?"

He almost laughs. "Yeah. It's been a while." He smiles at me again, and it's a better smile. "I'll miss working with Kaito--but I'm looking forward to working with you."

As I walk him to the door, I think about that idea--the two of us, fighting the Organization together, like he used to do with Grampa. The both of us, both one of a kind, working side by side.

Maybe we're not exactly two of a kind, not the way me and Grampa were--but maybe we can be a good team. Uncle Shinichi believes in me as much as Grampa does...and I don't want to disappoint him either.

On the front steps, he turns to face me. The sunlight chases away the last of the shadows that clung to him in the house, making him look so much like Grampa for an instant that it makes me catch my breath, like it was Grampa standing there for just a second.

Uncle Shinichi's always had the same eyes as Grampa--warm, bright, full of caring. And despite the flickers of grief in them now, they're still just as warm, just as caring.

I know my eyes look like Grampa's too. Maybe that's what made him stop and stare at me for a moment, or what made a hint of tears show up in his eyes.

This is what family's for, isn't it? Uncle Shinichi might be just my distant cousin, but the things we share remind us of the love we have for each other--how much we mean to one another and how close we really are when you think about it. The same eyes--Grampa and me and Uncle Shinichi and Dad and Grandpa Toichi...and so many others...

We're all still here. We all still need each other. And when it comes down to it, we'll always be here for each other. Even if Grampa's gone, the rest of us can carry on.

"Aoi-kun...take care, okay?" Uncle Shinichi says, his voice just a bit shakier than before. "Tell To-kun I'm sorry..."

"I will," I promise him. And I'll make sure Grandpa Toichi understands. He can't stay angry at Uncle Shinichi--we're family, and we have to stick together. Especially with what's coming. "And I'll make sure he's okay, too. All of them."

I'm crying again, but I know I need to be strong now. Uncle Shinichi was there for me when I was weak and sobbing, when grief struck the first blow...now it's my turn, to help Dad and Grandpa and the others.

"Thanks, Aoi-kun." I think if he stays here any longer, those tears are going to fall. Aunt Ran will probably be the only person to ever see them.

For a moment, we just stare at each other--then almost as one, we reach out and embrace again, like an impulse. He hugs me tight only briefly this time, then turns away quickly as soon as I release him.

"I'll contact you soon," he says briskly, with a wobble to his voice that probably only my kitsune ears could ever make out. "In the meantime...watch your back, and be sure to warn the others."

I wipe tears on the back of my sleeve and nod. "I will. And...you do the same, Uncle Shinichi. I don't wanna lose you too."

He glances back at me as he steps down to the walk. "Don't worry, kid--you won't. I've got too much to make them answer for." There's a flash of his usual self in his eyes again, along with a hint of the bloodhound grin we all know so well.

And with that, he's gone; a single smooth crouch and a leap, black wings pumping, and he's reaching for the sky--high above ningen eyes, in a hurry to get home to Aunt Ran. I wait for a moment to watch him go, the backdraft from his powerful wings ruffling my hair and ears.

When the black dot is out of sight, I turn and step back inside with a sigh.

The house feels so empty. Without Grampa, it is empty.

With Uncle Shinichi here, it didn't feel so hollow. Now I can't wait for Dad and the others to get here, to fill up this empty house again. To make it so I don't feel so alone.

But...I'm not really alone, am I? I still have my family, Dad and the rest. And Uncle Shinichi and I, we're going to be...partners. Maybe not two of a kind, but partners.

I'll never be able to replace Grampa--not for myself, not for Uncle Shinichi, not for anyone else in our family. But I know I need to try to finish what he started...and I hope I can do as well as he did. I think I can, if I know he believes in me. Everyone's depending on me.

I miss you, Grampa. I miss you so much it hurts, because I love you. I'm still crying even now because you're gone.

Wherever you are right now, I hope once in a while you'll look down and smile. Because I'm not gonna let you down, Grampa. Just wait and see.

My name is Kuroba Aoi, great-grandson of Kuroba Kaito.

And now, I am the Kaitou Kid.

Fin.

Notes:

Full circle, I guess...the passing of the old, the rising of the new...

Never mind, it's just weird. Got all the way to dawn as I wrote this...don't expect any sanity outta me, no sir. Waxed a bit maudlin in places, but I can't even remember half of what I wrote anyway so I suppose that's my excuse. ^_^ Thanks for reading!