Chapter Text
It was late, maybe around midnight? Either way the sun had long since set and Kaito had admittedly spent just a bit too much time stargazing. In his defense, it was Mid-July and Tokyo always got the best view of his personal favorite constellation, Hercules. So it was a bit late, but it really wasn't a big deal. His apartment was in one of the less populated area of Tokyo; don't get him wrong, there were still plenty of people but not as much as the main part of the city. The point was, there wasn't really much crime in the area and it was one of those nights that the reflection of the moon was enough to light up the sky to leave him in something more than pitch black- though he supposed there was no point to that as the street lights lit up the road plenty. Ok, he was rambling now. Not his fault the moon was so pretty, and the area was so peaceful and- what was that sound?
Kaito definitely didn't jump at what sounded like an animalistic screech. After taking a few seconds to calm himself (not because he was scared though) and look around for a source of the sound. It's just an animal, like a raccoon or something… He rationalized, shaking his head as he continued torwards his apartment. But the sound only grew louder.
Gulping down his fear (that totally wasn't there, that was just an expression) he took a step, peering into a nearby alleyway that he had believed the sound had come from.
He froze, body unsure of what to do.
On the floor or the alley was a man, pinning a struggling figure to the ground. The figure thrashed side to side, scratching at the man's arms in (unsuccessful) attempts to free himself from the tight grasp. (It also appeared that the guy pinned down had been the one releasing the screeching)
It wasn't until he realized that the man wasn't unarmed that he snapped out of it, lunging at the man and throwing him off the other. Unintentionally, it seems he threw him a bit too hard, the man's head hitting the wall and passing out before he even had the chance to question him. Instead, Kaito turned toward the figure, who seemed to have stood up, albeit shakily and with the support of the wall.
"You ok man?" He walked over, placing a hand over the other's shoulder, "Look like you're in pretty tough shape, my place is just down the street if you need me to patch you u-"
The hand was pushed away, and the figure ran. (How he managed to go so fast when he appeared to hardly be able to support his own weight he had not a clue)
With that, he was left all alone (minus the knocked out assailant) in what now felt like a much darker alleyway with nothing but an odd feeling of familiarity.
That and a discarded black and white checkered scarf, laying on the ground where the assault took place.
The feeling was no longer an odd estranged one, rather a perfectly clear, reasonable one. He knew that scarf.