Chapter Text
•
"Jeez..." the detective muttered under his breath, tossing the newspaper down onto his desk. His partner gingerly picked it up to read the entry that had gotten him so mad.
"Same guy, you think?" he asked, watching the detective as he wandered over to the evidence board. He nodded and tapped a chipped black nail on a photo of a young person with shoulder-length, indigo hair in curls, their face obscured by a white mask decorated like a clown.
"Yeah. Grab their file, please?" the man requested and his companion immediately complied, selecting the far-too-empty file from the drawer and handing it to the detective. His face set into determination as he opened it.
"I will find you, Phantom Thief."
• • •
Ouma Kokichi was still grinning madly to himself as he slipped in through the door and slammed it behind him, the adrenaline rushing through him as it always did after every time. He hung his cloak and mask up by the door, but not before taking something out of his pocket.
"Hey, Himi-chan!" Ouma greeted as they entered the common area and tossed the bloodied handkerchief into the fireplace.
"You should really stop doing that, Ouma," Yumeno complained, looking up from her cards, "It's not a good smell, and it takes days to go away."
Ouma just shrugged and disappeared into the bathroom to clean himself off. After changing his dirtied suit and tossing it into the bathtub, then fixing up their messied hair, they re-emerged and took a seat at Yumeno's table, the younger already dealing them a hand. Ouma pulled a hair tie from his wrist and scraped his indigo curls into a loose ponytail, first looking over his cards, then taking in his opponents.
18-year-old Yumeno Himiko, petty thief, and terrible Blackjack player.
Alongside her sat Hoshi Ryouma, 23, wanted on death row for mass murder. Also a terrible Blackjack player.
They, Ouma Kokichi, the 19-year-old phantom thief and amazing Blackjack player, grinned manically. This would be easy.
Oh, funny thing? Ouma Kokichi was also a huge liar.
Hoshi took in his winnings.
"Eh, my heart wasn't in it!" Ouma shrugged and tucked his arms behind his head. He kicked his feet up onto the table, "accidentally" scattering all of the cards onto the floor. Hoshi narrowed his eyes and mumbled under his breath before jumping down from his seat to gather up the mess.
"Is your heart ever in it?" Yumeno teased with a roll of her eyes. Ouma pouted and edged his foot over to her mug of tea on the table. "Don't you dare," she warned. Ouma slowly tilted his foot over until the toe of his boot lightly tapped the porcelain. Yumeno quickly snatched it up in her hands away from him. "Nyehhh! You're such a pain..."
Ouma laughed and swung his feet off of the table, jumping up to stand. He began to pace the room.
"Everyone! I met someone very interesting today," they announced to the whole room. Various other people who'd been previously occupied now looked up at him.
"Who? A therapist?" A man with spikey red hair and a goatee tossed a dart at a board as he spoke, hitting a perfect bullseye.
"Ha, good one. You know he scared the last one into quitting their job," responded a girl with low, dirty blonde pigtails.
"Non, non," Ouma dismissed, unamused. "Actually, I found the detective who took my nii-chan from me."
Hoshi looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Ouma pulled a phone out of his pocket and began scrolling to find something.
"Just let me find...-"
"-Hey, that's my phone!" a voice interjected.
"Shut up, Kii-boy, this isn't about you!" Ouma rebuttled. "Aha!" He motioned for everyone to gather around and placed the phone down in the middle of the table. It showed a picture of a man, probably not much younger than Ouma himself, with dark blue hair hidden under a black baseball cap. He sat hunched over a desk with his chin resting in his hand, his face partially hidden due to both the hat and the angle of the photo, with only pale skin and a small fleck of a golden eye visible. Beside him, you could just about make out another figure, but their face (and any other defining features) was hidden from view.
"Did you take this from outside a window??" the red-haired man questioned. "I thought you said you met him!"
"Oh, did I?" Ouma chuckled, "Hm, nah, I just tracked him down. Saihara Shuuichi's his name. He's only 19, the youngest detective to ever supposedly solve a murder case on his own, and be allowed to work independently on the main team. He's their boy-genius prodigy. Destined to be Japan's greatest, they say."
"Japan's greatest detective, who detained a wrongly-accused innocent?" Yumeno deadpanned.
"Exaaactlyyyy!!" Ouma whined, slamming his hands down on the table repeatedly to emphasize their words. "But!" he grinned evilly now and clasped his hands, "When I met him today-"
"-Stalked him."
"-I found out that he's actually investigating us now!" Ouma ignored the red-head's interject. "Sooooooo that means we can have a little fun!"
"You mean, you can have a little fun," a strawberry-blonde woman with icy blue eyes commented, "None of us actually gave a shit about that creep. He wasn't even in D.I.C.E!"
"Gonta does!" said a large man with unruly forest green hair, "Gonta wishes for Amami-san to be brought home safe so he may protect him!"
"Yeah? Well you're only here because that purple piss-stain over there threatened your pet stick!" the woman spat in response. The green-haires man, Gokuhara Gonta, looked on the edge of tears.
"And you're only here because I promised not to rat you out to the cops. Right, Iruma-chan?" Ouma glared at her. Iruma instantly looked ashamed and tears pooled in her eyes as she muttered beggings of forgiveness. He ignored her. "Anyways, trashy whore opinions aside, I've got a great plan to take down this wannabe-Sherlock and save our nii-chan! Who's in?"
No one moved.
"Great! Kii-boy, come with me!" Ouma clenched his fists to his chest and his violet eyes sparkled in excitement.
"What?!" Pale blue eyes widened and stared at Ouma in bewilderment. "I never agreed to this!"
"Sure you did!" Ouma picked the phone back up off the table and waved it at them, "After all, you already volunteered this!"
"That was not voluntary! You stole it!" Kiibo argued, but Ouma wasn't listening. He pocketed the phone and promptly left the room, then, begrudgingly, Kiibo followed them. They were forced to trudge after Ouma, all the way across the city, to the police headquarters. There was no way this was going to go well.....
*TAP*
*TAP*
*TAP*
*TAP*
"What the hell is that?!" Momota growled, angrily pushing himself out of his seat.
"Ignore it," Saihara advised, not looking up from his computer. "It'll just be some delinquent kids that are trying to get you riled up over nothing."
Momota sighed and fell back down into his chair.
*TAP*
*TAP*
*TAP*
"Bro, c'mon, it's really starting to piss me off!" Momota complained. "Besides, aren't you a police guy? It's your job to stop delinquent teens!"
"I'm not a 'police guy', I'm a detective," Saihara replied, pushing a pencil between his lips, "And I have more important things to be working on right now."
*TAP*
*TAP*
"Holy– I'm actually gonna go insane."
"Fine." Saihara slammed his pencil down on the table and stood up, begrudgingly investigating the noise.
*TAP*
*TAP*
*SMASH!*
"Oh, that's probably not good," he muttered and cautiously approached the now-broken window. There was a large rock on the floor surrounding the broken glass. Saihara picked it up, then went to look out the window. Below, there were two people looking up at him, both wearing near-identical white outfits with clown-like masks, a pile of stones and pebbles on the ground between them. One of them, the one with spikey white hair, looked slightly nervous just from their body language. Saihara did not recognize them. The other? Saihara could recognize that ridiculous purple mop and checkered tie anywhere.
"Hey, Detective!" the phantom thief audibly grinned up at him. Saihara frowned and quickly turned on his heel away from the window, snatching up his coat as he made his way to the door.
"C'mon, Kaito!" he yelled at his friend.
"Wha-? Alright, alright!" Momota jumped out of his seat and ran after Saihara, who had already vaulted halfway down the stairs.
The criminals had obviously been waiting for him, because when Saihara burst out the front doors of the precinct, he heard them both laugh and begin to run away.
The chase was on.
"Kaito, take a bike! Try get ahead of them!" Saihara yelled at his companion as he sprinted off as fast as he could after the criminals.
"ROGER!" Momota flattened his spikey magenta hair beneath a cycle helmet and mounted his motorcycle. He kicked it into gear and sped off in the direction that the culprits had fled.
Now, Saihara Shuuichi wasn't the fittest man in the world. Not to mention, he wasn't exactly wearing the best attire for running in. His joints screamed in his tight-fitting suit pants, his lungs ached with his anxiety, and the newly-healed scars on his chest burned with the exertion. Still, he continued to sprint at his top speed, following flashes of white and purple all through the back streets of Oumiya-ku. The criminals were fast. Saihara wondered if he really was just incredibly slow, considering the gain they had on him. He decided to settle on, no, they were just smaller than him. Shorter legs could run faster, right?
That was probably right.
After nearly 10 full minutes of running, Saihara was almost ready to pass out. Seemingly on cue, the criminals ducked into an alleyway. Saihara followed a few seconds later. He rounded the corner, then collapsed back against the wall, panting heavily.
"Woooow, you're really unfit, huh, Detective?" a voice taunted. Wearily, Saihara lifted his gaze to the owner of the voice. The purple-haired phantom thief. Saihara had never actually seen them up close before. He'd originally put it down to only ever seeing them from far away or as a blur, but even now, right up close, Saihara still couldn't for the life of him figure out what they were. He thought hearing their voice would help, but it didn't. Their voice was pitchy, cracking quite often, and fell directly on that line between 'too-high-for-a-woman' and 'too-deep-for-a-man'. From what Saihara could see behind the edges of mask, the thief's facial features looked soft and feminine, and they were rather small, but their build bordered closer to that of an adolescent boy. Plus, they couldn't be any taller than 5'1, at Saihara's best guess. Were they just a kid?? They certainly acted like one...
Shaking his thoughts away, Saihara forced himself to stand as straight as he could. He pointed an accusing finger at the criminals.
"You... You are under- under arrest...!" he panted. The Phantom stared at him blankly for a solid ten seconds, before they suddenly burst out laughing. They howled and doubled over, clutching their stomach, and their companion awkwardly began chuckling alongside them.
"You-! You are funny!" they laughed while Saihara glared. He made a move to grab at the Phantom's wrist, but they were much faster and dodged out of the way. However, Saihara kicked his leg out and tripped them up. As they fell, he grabbed the back of their cape and lifted them up, pinning them against the wall. He held his arm crossed over their chest and moved a hand to the stun gun in his holster. He pulled it out and aimed it at the white-haired companion, warning them to stay back. He had no intention of using it, he never did, but the criminal didn't know that; the warning was enough. He looked back to his captor just in time to see them shake themselves out of their stupored gaze.
"Oh!~ Gee, Mister Detective, can't you be a gentleman and at least take me out to dinner first?" they teased. Saihara didn't let his expression falter. So now he definitely hoped that they weren't just a kid. He continued to let his eyes bore into them. "Aw, you got a boyfriend already? It's okay, I don't mind. I'm good with open relationships!" Saihara's eye twitched. "No way, is it a girlfriend? Y'know, you really don't have that look about you, but I guess-"
"Shut up!" Saihara snapped. He couldn't force his stare any longer and dropped his head. His hat hid his face from the thief, who laughed. "Who are you?"
"Why should I tell you that?" the Phantom challenged.
"Because-" Saihara wished Momota was here. "Because... You're a wanted criminal!"
"Wanted? By whom?"
"Me!"
"Aw, babe, that's so sweet of you!" Saihara dared himself to look back up at the Phantom, who took the opportunity to motion blowing a kiss at him. He frowned.
"You two are coming back to the precinct with me. You are under arrest. Do you understand?"
"Hmmm..." The Phantom pretended to think, then looked to their companion, "Whaddya think, Kii-chan? Do we understand?"
The address to the person behind him made Saihara turn, and that was his first mistake. As soon as his eyes left the Phantom, they made their move. They kicked out hard into Saihara's shins, making him stumble back into the companion. The companion took his wrists and swiped the handcuffs from Saihara's own belt to lock them together. They then released Saihara and let him stumble to the ground.
"Aw, well, that was fun, Detective! We had a good time!" The Phantom smirked at him from above now. "I'm pretty sure I hit my step-goal for today, too!"
"This is your idea of fun?" Saihara deadpanned back.
"Yep!" the thief replied, popping the 'p'. They started retreating, walking backwards so they continued to face Saihara. "We should tooootally do this again some time! You're such a joy to hang out with, Detective Saihara-chan!"
Saihara's eyes widened and he struggled against his bounds, trying to get at the retreating criminals.
"H-Hey! How do you know my--"
"See ya!~"
The Phantom giggled with a 'ni-shishi' like a mischievous child, before turning and jumping up to latch onto the side of a moving tram that was going past, their companion following right behind. It was so conveniently timed that Saihara had to wonder exactly how much of this they'd had planned. However, unfortunately, Saihara had more troubling things to worry about in that moment.
Saihara shuffled himself over to the wall of the alley and leaned his back against it. He let his head fall back against the dirty bricks, knocking his hat down over his eyes. He sighed deeply and resigned to simply waiting for Momota to catch up and find him. How, he wondered, the other man had been slower on a motorcycle than Saihara had been running was a mystery that even Japan's greatest prodigy detective couldn't solve.
Saihara was waiting a full 15 minutes before he heard a loud engine approach, cut, then heavy footsteps wandering down the alley.
"Whatcha doing takin' a nap, Shuuichi? Where'd those criminals go?"
Saihara silently stared at up him with the blankest, most unimpressed expression he could muster.
"Well?" Momota put his hands on his hips. He shook his head disapprovingly. "Jeez, bro, this is why you're just my sidekick."
'Then why didn't YOU catch them?' Saihara argued in his head, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say it out loud.
"They got away," he said instead. Obviously.
"Duh! Cuz you were busy hanging out here instead of chasing them like I was! It was tricky though, I lost them when they went down some alleyway."
Saihara was too tired to even care to argue at this point.
"Kaito, could you please just help me out of these handcuffs?" he sighed.
"Huh?" Momota crouched down next to him to look. "Bro, why were you playing around with handcuffs?"
"I wasn't--" Saihara cut himself off with a sigh. Momota worked the handcuffs open and released him. Saihara rubbed his sore wrists from where the metal had been, then took the cuffs from Momota and clipped them back on his belt. "Thank you," he said, then immediately pulled a small notebook and a pen out of his inner jacket pocket and began sketching his encounters.
They were rough and messy, he'd add more detail later.
"That's them?" Momota asked, sliding down next to Saihara on the ground while he drew.
"Yes, these are the two that I pursued today," Saihara confirmed. "I'm almost certain they had no true ill intentions, and simply wanted to get a rise out of me by making me chase them halfway across the city. However, they do have my name, somehow. That's troubling."
"How'd they figure it out??"
Saihara just shrugged and flipped to a new page. He thought for a minute, then began sketching again.
"...Is that a girl or a guy?" Momota asked him.
"No idea," Saihara said truthfully. "I couldn't tell. I thought that, maybe if I started to draw what I think they'd look like, it'd subconsciously come together, but even this sketch ended up with them looking completely androgynous."
"Weird..." Momota rubbed his goatee'd chin thoughtfully. "Looks like a chick to me," he said.
"You think?" Saihara shut the notebook now and tucked it back in his pocket.
Momota nodded, "Yeah, I'm almost certain. That, or a trap!"
Saihara drew a sharp breath and frowned.
"Ah- Shit, Shuuichi, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry!"
"No, don't worry, you're good," Saihara said quickly to avoid the awkwardness. Then, he stood up and brushed the dirt off his legs and back. Momota followed him out of the alleyway.
"You want a ride back?" he offered, stepping a leg over his bike. Saihara glanced down the tram line. The criminals were no doubt long-gone by now. There was no point in following it.
"Um- Yeah, sure," Saihara decided. Momota grinned and passed him a spare helmet before revving the bike's engine. Saihara took off his hat and replaced it with the helmet that he fastened. He then hopped onto the bike behind Momota, wrapping his arms around his friend's middle and gripping his hat tightly.
"You ready?" Momota asked, revving the engine.
"As ready as I can be," Saihara replied and tightened his grip. Momota nodded and they sped off back to the precinct.
•
"Why did you let him catch up to us?"
Kiibo and Ouma sat on the roof of the tram, Ouma swinging his legs dangerously over the edge while Kiibo kept theirs tucked up tight.
"Love makes you do crazy things, my dear Kii-boy," Ouma hummed thoughtfully.
"I- What??" Kiibo questioned. Ouma laughed.
"No idea!" he grinned, "I just thought it'd be funny!"
"We could've been arrested!" Kiibo argued, "Then we'd be just like Amami-kun!"
Ouma frowned at them.
"You don't deserve to speak his name," they pouted. "Besides, that dumbass detective only caught up to us because we let him. There's no way he'd be able to arrest me unless I gave myself up!"
"...You mean us, right?"
"Hm? Oh, no, he could definitely get you," Ouma shrugged. "You're slow, and kinda stupid. It's a wonder you even escaped today."
"H-Hey! That's not nice!" Kiibo complained. Ouma ignored them, and when the tram next came to stop, he jumped down from the roof onto the street below. Kiibo hesitated, but soon followed behind them before the tram could move again. They stumbled on the landing.
"Ow- OW!" they whined, "I think I twisted my ankle!"
"Jeez, you're such a baby!" Ouma complained. "C'mon, let's go."
"But Ouma-kun, my ankle!"
"I don't care."
"But I can't walk properly!"
"Holy shit, you are so pathetic!" Ouma groaned and reluctantly gestured for Kiibo to climb on his back. He hoisted them up, his hands supporting their thighs while Kiibo's arms hung around his neck. Luckily, Ouma was surprisingly strong for their size. They started the walk back to the D.I.C.E hangout.
"Thank you..." Kiibo muttered.
"Talk again, and I will drop you in a puddle."