Chapter Text
Shuichi Saihara was good at not being noticed. It was an art born from years of trying to not be perceived. One born of his desire to be everything his parents weren’t.
As much as they paraded him around, he continued to find ways to sink into the backdrop and avoid all the eyes on him they seemed to crave. If he had a talent, it was avoiding as much attention as possible. Hats and avoided eye contact and slipping into the background just became second nature. Hiding from the eyes that were always on his parents and, by proxy, himself.
Of course, his parents hated it. They always chided him for being difficult and awkward and not seamlessly fitting into their lifestyle of soaking in attention and fame. He wondered how he was even related to them more times than not. And as good as he was at hiding away, it still was rather miserable… lonely most of the time.
He only ever really had one close friend, and then… they both had to move, and that was that.
Things were a little better when his parents moved to the States and left him with his uncle. He missed his friend, but his uncle and aunt didn’t drag him out in public. And for that… he was grateful. So grateful he volunteered to help his uncle with detective work. And that just… stuck. Detectives worked behind the scenes. Nothing like the shows and movies; they solved cases from the shadows, and Shuichi liked not having the attention thrust on him. So when he moved back to the city, he still took on cases—a sort of extension of his uncle’s firm.
It was an existence that worked for him. And that was enough. But he couldn’t deny it felt like something was missing. Did he even like being a detective? He wasn’t sure. But it wasn’t like he knew anything else.
One day, leaving work, he passed by the window of a storefront, and something caught his eye. It was not the kind of store that he’d ever visit on his own. Costume shops were quite the opposite of everything he aimed for. They were meant to be seen and observed—a spectacle.
But he still couldn’t take his eyes off the clown mask hanging in the front display. It stirred up a longing for memories he had almost forgotten. A strange sense of deja vu, so much he could practically taste too-warm ramune and feel the sun on his skin, laughter he hadn’t heard in years ringing in his head.
It reminded him of that boy and those years before high school where they’d hang out and play at every possible moment. A boy who had come up to him during lunch where he sat alone and demanded that they play cards together. Shuichi had been too shocked to say no. The other kids all thought he was weird or stuck up for having famous parents, so he was used to being alone. But this new boy with wild hair and a wide smile didn’t seem to care.
A boy who managed to tie every single game he demanded that they play together. It puzzled Shuichi so much he forgot to even eat his lunch. But the boy had only laughed. He lied, declaring he had no idea how it kept happening and claimed that Shuichi must have some sort of magic powers.
And despite having very little practice in having friends, suddenly, he had one. One that lied and teased and kind of gave him a headache. But a friend nonetheless. Someone he actually looked forward to seeing every day at school.
A friend that would carry around a clown mask and demand that they play phantom thieves and detectives just like his favorite show. Shuichi was always the detective. The other boy would offer to switch, but he never accepted. How could he? Phantom thieves were cool and suave. Everything he wasn’t. So he kept playing the detective.
Funny… in some ways it felt like he never really stopped pretending.
He had forgotten about those days. But seeing that mask… it all came rushing back. And it’s silly. And he knew that. But he found himself reaching out and turning the knob to the store regardless. A bell chimed, announcing his presence, and he almost turned around and ran right back out.
What was he even doing here?
A girl behind the counter greeted him, eyes gleaming behind her glasses, “Hello! Do you need any assistance today?”
“I… ummm… no… just looking.” He wished he still wore that hat he used to for this very moment.
“Oh. Okay.” The girl went from fervently excited to almost bored rather instantly.
The store had a mix of Halloween costumes and what he assumed were cosplay pieces as well. It looked all very high quality and not cheap at all. He recognized some of it. Some of it he wasn’t sure if it was character-based or just a generic costume. Taking a look at some of the price tags, he assumed they must be top of the line. Some of them were very extra. He imagined that boy would have liked those sort of outfits. He always went on and on about how cool his phantom thief outfit would be.
Why was he even still here? What was he still looking for? Why was he pulling out a black suit and wondering how it would look on him? Why did he now have gloves, shoes, a hat, and a mask that all matched? And why was he carrying it all to the table and paying for it with one easy credit card swipe?
He walked home in a daze, bag clutched to his chest as if people could see the ridiculous (and expensive) purchase he had just made out of complete impulse. Even back in his single bedroom apartment, he still couldn’t believe he had actually bought all that.
Shuichi stared at his collection of items laid out on his bed. It was a miracle he was able to pay without combusting on the spot. The blue-haired girl who rang him up asked a few too many questions. One’s he didn’t really have an answer for.
What was he buying all this for?
He still didn’t know… but he might as well… try it on. He stripped off his work clothes and tossed them in the laundry. This outfit was far fancier than he usually went for.. Simple but still far more extravagant than his typical tastes. The undershirt was basically a turtleneck, an almost gunmetal grey. Only a slight difference from the black coat he pulled over it. The wide sleeves were nice. The pants were a bit tight but the fit well enough. And he hadn’t noticed that the shiny black loafers he had picked out had a slight heel to them… putting on the leather gloves was also strange. He’d only ever worn winter gloves before. But they were more comfortable than he expected, the white accent on the palm rather striking.
He turned to the full-length mirror and took in his appearance. He looked… different. In a good way. Moving around, he watched as the long black coat swung around him. He felt… like a different person. Bold. Confident. Sexy even— as much as it pained him to even associate that word with himself in his mind.
He put on the wide-rimmed bowler hat and mask (both also black minus a few white dots on the mask surrounding the eyeholes—black was safe, easy to match, being suddenly impulsive did not get rid of his dislike of trying to figure out how to get bright colors to work together). Surprisingly, he can still see through the mask and he doesn’t mind the hat either even if it’s been awhile since he’s worn one (his friends refused to let him go out in public with one anymore).
The person in the mirror didn’t look like Shuichi Saihara. Not really. He was someone else entirely in that outfit, sleeker and more badass than anything he had ever donned before, nothing like his usual boring and basic attire for work picked with the intention of not being noticed. But this... this was an outfit to both be sneaky and be seen all at once. A smile curled under the mask. He looked like he thought a phantom thief should, dashing and mysterious, so much he kept moving just to make sure that figure in the mirror was actually him.
If he was going to dress like a phantom thief… he should act like one too. It couldn’t be that hard. One thing he realized from years of detective work was that most criminals were… not all that bright. They were never caught by a clever detective but rather just by a glaring lack of attention to detail.
People always seemed to think the fact he was a detective meant he was some sort of genius. But it really was just most people didn’t pay attention to details and were almost… easy to catch. Minor little things that were ignored ended up being their downfall more often than not. He wasn't that special... just observant to details many others overlooked.
Details that he knew intimately from years of looking over cases, real and fictional. Years of pretending to be a detective followed by years of solving cases for his uncle, all coupled with a love of mystery and crime novels prepared him for this very moment.
Shuichi stepped onto the fire escape, the metal clanging under his shoes, he took a deep breath—the smoggy and cool air of the city at night filled him with a strange sort of feeling. His jacket fluttered in the wind behind him; a feeling of freedom and recklessness coursed through him, like electricity in his veins. A feeling he hadn’t felt since those childhood days playing phantom thief and detective in the park.
And suddenly, he was no longer Shuichi Saihara, the awkward son of a famous screenwriter and actor. No… he was someone new.
He just wasn’t quite sure who the hell that was yet.
Back in those childhood days, he never really got why his friend loved playing the phantom thief so much. Not that he minded. Shuichi had always been so entertained he never questioned why they never pretended to be anything else—but now… running through the night—hiding in the shadows. He got it.
But what was he supposed to do now?
“A phantom thief is waaaay better than just plain ole criminal. They have an honor code. They help people when the law can’t! That’s what makes them so cool, duh!”
“But if they are doing the right thing, why does the detective want to catch him?”
“Because it’s his job, silly!”
“So is the detective the bad guy?”
“Nope! It’s not about good or bad. It’s a game of trying to outsmart each other, y’know? That’s what makes it fun!”
“I guess that makes sense….”
“Do you wanna be the phantom thief this time? I think you’d be great at it.”
“Uhh, no, I’ll be the detective again. I’m better at that.”
“If you say soooo, I think you’d make a super cool phantom thief.”
An old conversation played in his mind—a code of honor. Crimes to help people…
He remembered one of his recent clients—an infidelity case. A man who kept a sentimental necklace of his ex-wife, but they didn’t have the proof to get it back. What if he…
He remembered the address from the investigation… breaking in would be easy. The man was taking a vacation with the mistress that caused the whole debacle. He could take the necklace back… give it to the rightful owner. Something he couldn’t do as a detective… but as whoever he was now… he could.
Breaking into the house was easy. The security system password was, ironically enough, the anniversary date of the now-ended marriage. And with no cameras or animals to deal with, all he had to do was find it. After a bit of rummaging through drawers, he managed to find it. A silver chain with a round silver plate embossed with a chrysanthemum. Apparently, it was a family heirloom. The man clearly didn’t care about it judging by the tangled chain, likely just keeping it to be petty (he had been an extremely frustrating person to deal with during the case… so it checked out).
“A phantom thief has always got to leave a calling card! Otherwise there's no point silly!”
That familiar voice rang through his head again. A calling card… He didn’t really want to draw attention to the missing necklace and put the woman at risk of retaliation from this asshole… but he could leave her a little note when he dropped it off. That way she had proof if he ever questioned why it was suddenly missing.
He grabbed a slip of paper and a pen from the man’s desk. He wasn’t sure how to write this sort of thing, but he assumed it was supposed to be dramatic.
‘The flower of truth restored to its rightful owner,
freed from the clutches of the one wrapped in cruel lies.’
He cringed a bit at how dorky it sounded, but it would have to do. The package needed to be dropped off before dawn. But his impromptu calling card still needed a signature.
“A phantom thief NEEDS a cool name!”
The voice rang through his head yet again. The boy had always had a never-ending supply of names. But it felt weird to use any of the ones he used back then… He remembered the copy of Arsène Lupin: Gentlemen Thief by Maurice Leblanc on his bookshelf. Pretty basic, but… he didn’t have any other ideas. No time to suddenly become a creative type of person. It would have to work.
—Respectfully yours, Arsène
He taped it on the necklace and left the house, setting the alarm as he did. The apartment she had moved into was about a 20-minute walk away, plus a little extra for taking backstreets. But it felt like no time at all. He felt weirdly… giddy. Happy in a way he didn’t ever remember being, not for a long time. And when he looped the necklace on her doorknob, he felt proud. He did that. Or Arsène did that. His new self.
With a swish of the tail of his jacket, he left the scene and crept back through the chilly night back to his apartment. Led by the moonlight and a new sense of purpose.
It turned out that his detective job provided lots of opportunities for his new nighttime hobby. There were plenty of things in his cases that he simply couldn’t do anything about. Detective Saihara had to follow the rules, exist with the confines of the law. But Arsène… he could sneak around after the sun set and right all those little wrongs.
It was thrilling. Shuichi loved going through case files and finding both the answer to the case and heists he could pull off later, playing both sides. Working with the law during the day and breaking it how he saw fit at night.
Even when the police started noticing the notes and the stolen items, they couldn’t figure out it’s him. There were no clues. No photos. No evidence. On the rare occasions he worked alongside them, he would ask about the Arsène case. He hid a smile every time they exasperatedly confessed they had no leads and didn’t even know where to begin. And they were none the wiser that the culprit was the one expressing sympathy right under their noses.
He looked forward to those nights he donned his thief outfit, slipped on his mask, and became Arsène. Sneaking through the moonlight, running away from the scene before the police even show up. He had never been a thrill-seeking sort of person, but that rush… the endorphins of pulling off a heist. It was addicting.
“You look damn good, Shuichi! Our training must be working!” Kaito exclaimed one day over breakfast, his arm wrapped around Maki. He still got together with his college friends quite often. Usually Kaede joined them as well, but she had some mysterious job interview today.
Shuichi smiled shyly, “Yeah, guess so.” The training definitely didn’t hurt. He actually started taking it more seriously back when he first started being Arsène almost half a year ago. The added strength, speed, and flexibility allowed him to perform even more complicated heists than ever before. His nightly exploits across the city became easier and easier.
“You seem more… confident lately,” Maki added, giving him an appraising sort of look.
“Oh really?” He stirred his coffee, was his Arsène persona leaking into his normal life? Maybe. He didn’t quite mind people noticing him as much. And maybe he didn’t stumble so much in social situations. Maybe he was a bit more assertive. He wasn’t really listening as Kaito explained his latest work drama, still lost in thought.
Had he really changed all that much?
Shuichi’s tears burned on his cheek as the breeze hit him. He really messed up this time. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that man’s stare again. The man he put in prison. The man who was only trying to right a wrong. Was that really what he deserved?
Justice….
A word he had heard plenty of times. His uncle said going to jail was that man’s justice when he called earlier. That man had killed in his own justice for what his victim had done to his family. Was any of that really justice?
Were the things he did at night justice? Robbing from the shitty people who hurt others? Fixing wrongs in less than legal manners…
He pulled on the mask. He was not sure, not really. Not anymore. But he did know that detective work made him feel like shit more often than not. The only thing that made it fun was finding potential heists to pull at night. Because this… this… whole thing. Even if it’s silly with the whole outfit and the mask. An adult in a stupid costume. It felt good. He felt more like himself than he felt during the day. Arsène felt more real than Detective Saihara at this point.
And maybe that was enough.
He remembered Maki and Kaito complimenting his new demeanor. How happy and fit he looked. He remembered a smiling boy from the past waxing on about how cool phantom thieves were, sticking his tongue out at him from under the clown mask before he ran and Shuichi chased after him.
And suddenly, he was running through the night, fueled once more. But he didn’t really have a good plan for a heist tonight.
So he picked what he figured would be an easy target. A company run by a corrupt man. He could steal something valuable… sell it… donate it to a charity he’d hate. Perfect.
A heist while he was still a bit emotionally compromised, he realized, might be an error in judgment. Something he wasn't oft to do. That was the whole reason this whole thing worked. He was too careful to get caught. He paid attention to all the little details, the cameras, the security system, even the dust covering specific areas.
Shuichi managed to grab a metallic vase that had expensive looking jewels embedded in it and was about to make his escape… but then he heard footsteps. Something he definitely should not be hearing. No one should be in this part of the building. For the first time in his limited career as Arsène the Phantom Thief… he messed up.
Shit.
Going up the stairs was the only escape. The roof was his only option now. He was pretty sure the next few buildings are the same height, and he could make his escape that way. It was a risk, but he hadn’t done all of Kaito’s workouts for nothing.
He reached the roof, heart beating in time with the sound of footsteps following him—faster and faster.
The gap in the roofs weren’t too bad; he could make it. Go over a couple of buildings and down the fire escape, sneak through the alley… easy.
“Hey! Stupid hat guy! Stop right there!”
“Huh?” Against his better judgment, he stopped and turned. Stupid hat guy?
“Oh, a mask too, do you like playing dress-up or something weirdo?” The man chasing him crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. He looked a bit young and wasn’t dressed like a cop. And there was something about that cheeky grin…
Sweat dripped down his brow, he needed to escape... so might as well, play up the whole phantom thief thing a bit, maybe distract whoever this was long enough to get away. He’d just have to commit to the role he had impulsively take up months ago, “Why do you like my mask?”
The other man’s eyes widened, and he teased back, “No. I’m not some child who likes playing pretend, unlike whoever the hell you are. I bet you are reeeal ugly under that mask. Is that why you wear it?”
“Sounds like someone wants to know what I look like.” Shuichi retorted, fiddling with his sleeve, a bit nervous but he thought he might also be pulling this whole act off. He wasn’t even sure how these words were coming out of his mouth. All those months moonlighting as Arsène somehow manifested at this moment, attempting the kind of dialogue he read in his novels using every scrap of gained confidence.
“As if. I caught you, and I’ll get see your stupid face when I question you at the station. Not that I care.” The man sounded smug, staring at his hand like this whole thing bored him.
“Will you now?” The other man laughed in response as if this whole scene amused him, he was definitely not like any cop or detective he had ever worked with. Shuichi’s lips curled under his mask. Now to see if his plan to distract his pursuer would work. A gamble… this man seemed a bit unpredictable, but it was his only option. “I look forward to it… but it’ll have to wait… I'm sorry... I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name?”
The other man’s face scrunched up the moment he stepped on the ledge, so he was throwing him off. He responded, a bit less animated than before, staring at the ledge with something that looked like fear, “Detective Ouma… and just where do you—”
Shuichi leapt over to the next rooftop, vase tucked under his arm, and heard an audible gasp from the other man. “What the hell?”
“Well… then… so long Detective! Nice to meet you, maybe I’ll see you around.” He called back, his confident demeanor slowly slipping back into his normal self, waving a gloved hand, he turned away before he let the act drop any more, coat whipping around him.
A voice shouted behind him, his tone a mix of shock, frustration and what almost sounded like admiration, “Oh, you can count on that.” Shuichi ran before he could figure out if whoever this Ouma guy was would chase him. He heard some muttering but no footsteps. If he called for backup, it would be too late. He knew the streets too well. Avoiding them would be easy.
His heart pounded in his ears as he ran home through the shadows, but he wasn’t as panicked as he thought he’d be. No… it wasn’t fear at almost getting caught… It was excitement. That detective… something about him.
Detective Ouma….
Ouma…
It couldn’t be. No way it was the same guy. Even if that man had been on the shorter side, just like his friend had always been, he couldn’t really tell what his hair looked like since it was pulled back. And the eyes… too hard to tell if they were that brilliant shade of violet he remembered, not in the dim moonlight.
A coincidence. Surely.
But one worth looking into. He set aside his spoils from the heist to sell later. Shuichi changed out of his thief outfit and showered (being almost caught and running had left him a sweaty mess– as much as he'd grown to like the ensemble there was no denying it was a bit stuffy).
Opening his laptop, he used the database his uncle used to track people down and typed in the name ‘Kokichi Ouma’ Only one name showed up. Funny, he never thought to track him down before, but it probably would have been creepy to look up some guy he hadn’t seen in ten years… but now…
And it checked out. The face looked the same. And… he worked for the Kirigiri Private Detective Agency. A name he recognized. It would be impossible not to, a famous family of top-tier detectives… interesting. So the police had reached out to private investigators… he really had stumped them. But finding out his childhood friend worked for the famous Kyoko Kirigiri, now that was a surprise.
A detective…huh…
So they had finally swapped roles. Kokichi, the detective and him… the phantom thief he had once refused to play. It was kind of… exciting. Shuichi smiled at his computer screen and glanced over at his mask. Maybe it was time he stopped being a detective. No more awful days like today, no more seeing expressions like he had on that man’s face…
It wasn’t like he needed the money. He had plenty of that from his parents. More than enough to live comfortably for quite some time. He could… just be Arsène. Not more dealing with having to help crappy people or be forced by the law to do things he just didn’t agree with. He could have his own code of right and wrong. Find the truth in the dark of the night.
And maybe… maybe he’d run into Detective Ouma again.
He wondered if Kokichi Ouma still liked games.