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Chapter Text

Koizumi Akako, at the time the most prized prima donna of the capital, was peacefully enjoying her breakfast in her villa when she received Count Hakuba’s letter.

My dear Miss Koizumi,

As bold and off color such a proposal may appeal to a lady of your quality, I have in the end determined that an opportunity so great to both you and I could not be wasted over decorum and seemliness. My request may disturb you at first, as a boor only would invite a virtuoso to an exhibit of artists way more mediocre than herself; regardless, if you accept, you will most likely thank me for showing you an object of curiosity like no other, one I have recently discovered.

Tonight, the opera will present the third act of Lucie de Lammermoor at exactly 11:15:00 PM. Let us meet there, lodge 7.

I am looking forward to seeing you again.

Hakuba Saguru

A faint grin appeared on Akako’s lips. Oh, this poor, poor Count Hakuba -how much did he think himself special to content himself with unimaginative praises and a paper that was more of a note than a letter? His nobility and unorthodox skills in deduction must have gone up to his head after all. When compared to her line of suitors, full of composers and poets that translated her beauty into notes and words that could move the dead, his confidence and unusual career as a detective when everyone expected him to debut in politics or the military was clearly no match. 

However she was not feeling entirely insensitive toward him. As every man she ever encountered, he was totally infatuated with her, that was no secret, and seeing him blush every time their eyes met always flattered her ego. Nonetheless, he had a sense of composure that few men had in her presence, and maintained his wittiness, class and charisma in any situation. He never wavered.

That pleased her. Most artists who sang her were young talents in their fields, but lousy orators in society, and she could not bear to be seen with a man that was not of her stature at least, unless it was a handful of admirers she dominated.

‘ Let us meet ’... Yes, she could see herself standing next to him without shame.

In fact, there were some thrills in such an act. Her, alone with the Count in the lodge, in front of that theater of life and rumors that was the opera? How entertaining that would be to kick that nasty anthill and watch her suitors melt into despair! She giggled just thinking about it. 

Besides, she truly wondered what ‘object of curiosity” could the Count think would interest her so greatly, in her own workplace, in middle of a representation of that little Aoko girl on top of that? 

Unconsciously, Akako automatically rolled her eyes thinking about her. That little dummy with barely an inch of talent, that was only a singer because of her father being the new director of the opera, had stolen her starring role! The tragic role of Lucie was hers, it always had been as far as she remembered, and they gave it to this ridiculous girl with her squeaky voice and childish manners! Nonsense, pure nonsense!

‘I am sorry, Miss Koizumi, but no matter how much of a fuss you’ll make, that is the stage director’s final decision! I don’t think you realize Aoko worked as hard as you did -perhaps even harder, for she wasn’t born with your natural talent-, and how much she improved. Besides, the public needs novelty -we can’t always serve them the old soup they tasted a hundred times!’

It took Akako all her strength to crumple and burn Hakuba’s missive on the spot when remembering those words. 

Old soup! An old soup! How could they call her this?! If she was an old soup, then that Aoko was not even the most basic broth! Oh, she never forgot the rehearsals of Mozart’s Magic Flute with her, six months prior to that. While Akako was a majestic Queen of the Night, Aoko was a truly pitiful Pamina. Always messing up, never giving up and trying again and again, as if the opera was a place for such amateurism! And now, to know she managed to completely kick the prima donna off Lucie de Lammermoor!... 

Thinking of this scandal again, Akako’s blood still burned in rage. None of her attempts to curse her rival or to cancel the representation had been successful so far, and thankfully her spiteful attitude had been kept out of the tabloids.

Hakuba’s invitation suddenly seemed to be the unexpected solution to her turmoil. She smirked.

Watching and hearing Aoko ridicule herself for hours straight, with an eye full of despise and highness from her lodge, while holding on the arm of a gentleman people would think to be her lover, and just knowing her name would be on all newspapers the day after, would be an absolute delight.

She could not miss such a show -especially if she was, in the end, the starring role.

‘How daring of that man! Who does he think he is, requesting such a thing from lady Koizumi!...’ Her hunchback servant groaned as he read the letter she still held while in deep thoughts, above her shoulder, calling her back to reality.

‘Who told you could read it, you nasty goblin, and address yourself to me without permission above that?’ She blurted out. ‘Go fetch me some sealing wax, and hurry up if you don’t want to be cursed for six generations!’

‘Y-yes, madam!’

And he ran as fast as he could.

Akako sighed, picked up the plum in the ink pot -she had the habit to answer her admirers’ mails in the morning-, and as she hummed the notes of On my lips every kiss is like wine, traced directly on Hakuba’s letter, with a most delicate handwriting:

My dearest Mr. Hakuba,

This would be an honour. Let us meet.

Akako arrived at the opera by the time Hakuba had indicated to her, during the intermission between the second and third act. As she made her way to the seventh lodge when spectators were invited to find their seat again, people could not help but gossip as they stared at her, mesmerized, much to her pleasure.
It was not entirely due to her unexpected appearance at the third act; she took great care wearing the finest toilet she owned, a crimson red laced dress which both complimented her complexion and name, having the most prestigious hairdresser of the capital sublime her, and fanning herself most elegantly. 

Battling eyes and setting hearts a-flutter on her way, she promptly followed the hostess and climbed to lodge seven. 

As soon as Count Hakuba saw her enter, he stood up and asked for her hand to kiss.
‘You are in advance of two minutes, forty two seconds and three hundred and sixty nine milliseconds’, he said as she granted her gloved hand to him. ‘This is a relief. I feared you’d arrive too late.’

‘How could an opera singer be late?’ She smirked as she felt the feathered kiss through the fabric. ‘Would she make her costumer wait, her costume would be unfitting; would it be the orchestra, she’d never hit the notes; would it be her public she would not last two representations before being replaced, both on stage and in hearts. An singer who comes late is a bad singer. But we both know that is not what I am, right?'

Hakuba heart-fully agreed, and his glimmering eyes betrayed all the brimful admiration he had for her. Ah! It was so, so easy to lead them on; fancy little words always hit the spot. He guided her into her seat, and if it was not for demeanor, she would have laughed out lout. She just loved her little games.

‘So, Count, what is this object of curiosity you flaunted so much to me? Show me.’

‘Oh, I am sorry, Miss Koizumi’, Hakuba replied while adjusting his lorgnette, ‘There would be no pleasure of mystery to tell right away. Please bare with me a little longer, or at least allow to enlighten you in a different way’, he added when Akako let out a bit of an irritated pout. 

‘By the way, Miss Koizumi, the jewels you are splendidly wearing tonight have high value, don't they?’

‘Of course! This rubies belonged to generations and generations of women in my family, and have been certified by experts of all times. They are worth hundreds of thousands!’

‘Oh, it is just that you should keep them close by, then. He may fancy them, but do not worry; I won’t let him take them.’

Akako deeply frowned. ‘Who?’

‘Well, Phantom KID of course!’

She blinked, astonished by such a statement, but then the instant she was about to ask for more, the opera was announced to continue, and the lodge was plunged into darkness.

Akako remained confused. Phantom KID? What was he talking about? Was not this a silly urban rumor to explain the opera's systematic and honestly obnoxious pick-pocketing?
Indeed, as many women usually lost their prized jewelry representation after representation, before it was returned to the director the next day, but no thief was ever arrested, Akako had always thought they were the whims of some fetishist or kleptomaniac that worked within the opera. Others had developed this silly incarnation of a phantom thief no one could catch -some even pretended to have seen him face to face!
She honestly wondered how the Cartesian Hakuba could ever believe in such fairy tales.

‘Mr Hakuba’, she whispered to him despite the curtains slowly rising up, ‘You do not believe in such ridiculous things, do you?’

‘Oh, I don’t need to, for he’s real!’

Akako was left speechless yet again for a few seconds. She then shook her head a bit, and leaned towards him, a gesture that finally made him look directly at her, and though she could not see it, provoked quite a blush. 

‘No, I- may this stay between you and I, my dear Count, but I have deeply studied the occult in my youth, and had a ghost ever taken residence in this place I spend my days and nights in, I would have absolutely known!’

He proudly grinned and raised his index in a pompous manner. ‘That is great news, then, for “Phantom KID” is nothing but a name, and it is a living man I have been hired to arrest.’

Akako’s raised her eyebrows. ‘Hired?’

‘Indeed. Please, look at this.’

At those words, while the actors of Henry and Edgar began singing the first part of the act, Hakuba pulled the curtains of the lodge and lightened a match, showing Akako worn-out letters. They all showed some sort of enigmas, and a strange symbol at the end of each.

‘This is…’ Akako began, moistening her lips.

‘His requests’, Hakuba explained. ‘Ever since Mr Nakamori has taken the direction of the opera, he has received these every now and then. He thought of a bad joke at first, but when Phantom KID threatened not to give back the stolen jewels of the night if he did not agree to his demands, and actually did so, it was only the beginning. More and more, the phantom urged Nakamori to meet his requests, causing more casualties, and almost driving the old man insane chasing him.’

‘This is a funny story to the least’, Akako interrupted, ‘but how does that concern me? I had barely ever heard of this phantom before just now.’ 

While she would never admit it out loud, she did not have an inch of sympathy for that old fart Nakamori. In fact, if the phantom could make him quit, it would have been much to her pleasure. 

‘I was coming to it’, the Count announced, handing her another letter.

Akako squinted, approached to the new match her partner lightened. Unlike other missives, not only was this one way shorter, but also crystal clear upon his message. No fancy riddle. No gentleman-like politeness. No requests with an honeyed, aristocratic syntax and vocabulary. 

Make Miss Nakamori the starring role of Lucie de Lammermoor, or an Air de la folie of another kind shall make your opera collapse.

Phantom KID

Akako’s eyes widened. All her members instantly shook to the bone. So, all along, the source of her humiliation, frustration and dishonor was no other than…!

‘This is OUTRAGEOUS!’ She erupted, the electroshock the words sent through her making her jump to her feet. 

‘It is’, Hakuba approved, blowing up his match and making her sit back again, as stiff and irritated as she was. ‘Mr Nakamori received it again two days ago, right after the stage director had finally expressed doubts about having her as Lucie. Some thought it was an attempt of the Miss to keep her role, but I have cleared that the poor girl has nothing to do with that. Though she is indeed starring as Lucie tonight, I have reasons to think he will take action in the second part of the third act…’

‘L’Air de la folie ’, Akako murmured with a blank voice.

‘Precisely.’

Her fists tightened, her knuckles becoming white. She stayed as such for a good minute, gritting her teeth in rage, not answering in the slightest to Hakuba’s next inquiries. Then, suddenly, she bolted out of her seat again and firmly grasped his hand, surprising him.

‘My dear Hakuba, no matter at what cost, you must arrest this b… rascal! I could not live one day again knowing I could be dishonored like that one more time! I beg you!!’

Her usual charming, somewhat-cold expression was broken like it had never been, even in the faint obscurity. Her eyes shined with a hot determination and her dainty fingers pressed themselves so furiously against his hand, Hakuba felt electric sparks run through his entire body.

‘Yes… Yes, of course’, he mumbled, taken aback.

One and the other stared at each other most intensely, until time made Akako regain some sort of sense and, with a little squeak that was nothing like her, she let go of his hand and sat back in her seat turning her gaze toward anything and everything but him. 

The Count remained frozen for a couple  more of seconds, then came back to life as well, cleared his voice, yet the air of the lodge was still tense.
‘We still have some time before l’Air de la folie, don’t we?’ He noticed, and Akako, who knew Lucie de Lammermoor by heart, nodded. ‘How about a couple of refreshments?’

‘I-I would enjoy that very much. Thank you.’

As Hakuba left the lodge, looking for the hostess, Akako opened the curtains again and vigorously fanned herself.

The revelation had made her lose her cool in front of the Count, of all people. She truly needed to let off some steam.

Abruptly, when she noticed, or rather remembered, that all glances in the audience were now turned to her, her ordinary, overly confident composure came back naturally and instantly. In the heat of the moment, she had even forgotten the opera was no playroom.
It was an arena where only the strongest could remain.

Soon after Hakuba came back and the hostess served them drinks, the stage scenery began to change as an actor scurried to the front of the stage, dramatically announcing to the wedding guests the bride had murdered her groom. Shy steps were to be heard shortly afterward from the top of the marble stairs. 

Lucie -but to Akako, it was no one but the grimed nasty little Nakamori- came down the stairs. With messy let-down hair fluttering on her shoulders, her now lifeless cold blue eyes accentuating her prominent dark circles and her gaunt features, her wedding dress was not only torn apart, but a massive splash of scarlet blood smeared its plain whiteness. Little red spurts had bloomed upon her snow-white hands, wrists, and face. 

The makeup man truly outdid himself, and these welcomed details for any spectators only further fueled Akako’s disgust. Why was everyone pouring their talent for this lousy girl tonight?!

Aoko started to sing.

Mon nom s’est fait entendre au milieu de vos chants !
C’était sa voix, sa voix si chère, et si tendre !...

In spite of herself, Akako instantly let out an astounded pout. Aoko… had improved. As much as she loved to bad mouth, Akako could not deny such evidence to her expert ear. Her attention could not remain long unto the stage, however. The public was unusually disturbed and agitated; two men were making their way to their seats, but that did not justify such an animation, and Akako was much more interested in this than whatever nice sounds Aoko could try to utter. 

Edgar, je te suis rendue !
Edgar, oh, mon Edgar ! Viens, je te suis rendue !
Je me suis soustraite au pouvoir des méchants,
Au pouvoir des méchants !

‘What are they so inclined to blabber about?’ She asked Hakuba, as she could get nothing from the whispers that were overshadowed by the orchestra.

‘Oh, it is just that the pendant on her neck caused quite a commotion. Many think Lucie having such bizarre jewelry does not fit her character. They already complained about it in act two.’

Akako raised her head again to the little ghost-like actress. Upon her chest, a strange-looking stone took pride of place. It was a chiseled, clear gem, but one that barely projected any shiny reflects. A cheap jewel made of glass most certainly, into which another gem could be seen, oval and crimson, like a single, enormous drop of blood. All that time, Akako had not noticed it, for she thought it was another blood stain of her collarbone. 

‘It is cheap-looking indeed…’

Suddenly, Aoko’s voice peaked, forcefully driving Akako back to the performance.

Oh ciel ! Là-bas des spectres se dressent !

She laughed. No, this would be impossible… That could simply not be…

Ah ! Ils nous séparent !
Oh ciel ! Fuyons, Edgar, Edgar, Edgar !

No one could ever… She could not conceive…

Ils nous séparent ! Ils nous séparent ! Ne me laisse pas !

The instant Aoko reached the highest note, with perfect stability and all that while literally running across the stage, Akako’s nervous laughter completely ceased.

The clear, majestic voice, its incredible precision embracing both amateur and expert hearts, was not what made Miss Nakamori’s performance so outstanding, for a perfectly tuned instrument was still a mere object, and therefore soulless.
Yet, here and now, Miss Nakamori was not singing music. She was living it, acting it as if partitions and theater only made one with her, in a way that could not help but draw tears from your eyes and pain to your heart, she was singing with none other than her soul. 

For a split second, even Akako, who knew this melody, its notes and lyrics by heart, and came to see nothing in it but a work to apply in order to please, the woman that was weeping on stage was no longer her despised rival, but poor, real Lucie that slowly succumbed to madness.

‘This is pure nonsense !’ She jarred to herself, her nails engulfing the armrests of her chair. ‘No one, not even angels themselves, could improve so much over a mere six month period!...’

Something underneath all that was fishy and so obviously wrong. 

Suddenly, a feminine, high-pitched scream resonated through the entire place, disrupting the scene. Reacting instantly, both Hakuba and Akako leaned down the lodge’s balcony. 

In the middle of the front row, two men, the ones who arrived late in the act, were standing, their right arm raised, and though darkness reigned, everyone could distinct the silhouettes and sparkle of guns in their hands, the canons aiming at the frozen-in-place Aoko.

‘Tch’, Hakuba let out as he drew a gun out of his inner pocket, ‘That’s what I thought!...’

Before the crowd could even properly break into panic, the deafening gunshots were exchanged: the men fired at Aoko, while Hakuba shot one of the attackers’ hand, yet before anyone could see who ended up hitting who, the entire opera was plunged into obscurity. A painful masculine yell convinced the Count his target had been reached, but no strong woman scream, if it was not for the little gasps of those panicking, was heard.
Only then did light reappear on the terrifying stage.

The aggressors were nowhere to be found, their guns knocked down to the ground, and neither was Nakamori Aoko. In her stead was a fresh bloodstain, that no one knew if it was fake or real.

'Ah ah ah!'

All at once, a thrill-sending, sadistic yet youthful cackle echoed through every lodge. The effect across the mob was immediate.
‘It’s the phantom! The phantom abducted Miss Nakamori to the realm of the dead!’

Everyone and their mother rushed in panic to the exits, almost stumping each other in the process. In the middle of it all, Mr Nakamori and employees could be seen trying to reason with them, in vain. 

Akako, too, scurried to the lodge’s exit.
‘Miss Koizumi’, Hakuba called her, catching her wrist, ‘Don’t. Going out right now will only put you in danger, perhaps as much as Miss Nakamori herself!’

‘Let go of me!’ She screeched, forcing out her wrist out of his grasp. ‘Aoko has not been kidnapped, you goof, I saw her sneak out of the stage in the dark! Do you think I can let her escape me, after what irredeemable damage she has just done to every single aspect of my reputation?! I don’t care about whatever phantom anymore -I want HER!’

And, just like that, without even waiting for his reaction, Akako abandoned her dear Count to dash through corridors. 

She expected the lights to come back quickly to the public, but it did not, and as she roamed into the murk of the far aisles, she had no choice but to guide herself with a little magic flame she invoked on her finger. In her hurry, she had not even thought of borrowing some matches from Hakuba.
Convincing herself no one would notice if she blew it out fast enough when meeting someone, she pursued her descent through passages she knew no one would go through in the panic, and indeed, through the rumbles of the mob moving could still be perceived, Akako met not a soul, if it was not for Momoi Keiko, a silly little ballerina Nakamori Aoko had recently grown fond of, going up the stairs that led to the artists' dressing-rooms in the backstage, a candle in her hand. 

‘Keiko’, Akako called her, ‘Miss Nakamori is in her dressing-room, is she not? Do not lie to me.’

‘S-She is, Miss’, Keiko easily admitted, as she had always been intimidated by the prima donna. ‘But she’s hurt, though it’s nothing serious, and deeply upset. She needs some alone time before the police arrives and take her deposition… Please, don’t disturb her…’

‘I won’t.’

Keiko nodded, swallowing anxiously and proceeded. As Akako did so herself, the singer could not help but repress a chuckle. 
If that little wench wanted peace, she should not have started a war.

Akako finally reached the most distant dressing-room, close to the last corridor’s dead end, which was Aoko’s. She prudently tiptoed toward the door, wanting to surprise her rival in whatever emotion she expressed right now, right behind it, to finally catch her in the sole truth. But, as soon as her hand lightly touched the handle, something she, of all things, expected the least, happened.

A man’s voice.

‘Are you sure? Tonight may be the night I never allow you to return’, said he, whoever he was, and Akako was immobilized.

Aoko resolutely answered, ‘I am. If this is the night you go, I want to see you one last time at least.’

‘...Very well. Come as you please.’

Akako could not believe it. How could this girl, who had not been to the opera for a full year yet, be allowed or even allow herself to shamelessly bring her lover to her quarters, when Akako’s suitors were stopped and beaten by the security at the entrance if too insistent, and above all, speak in such a calm voice after being literally shot at?
Had Lucie and Aoko really come to become one? Had she actually become insane? And who could even love a woman that behaved so puerile anyway?!

She did not let herself think further, and pushed furiously the door’s handle.
‘Miss Nakamori!’

Akako’s cry was met with a dead silence.
The hanging rails full of costumes, the vanity with perfumes and makeup, the tall mirror, they were all perfectly in place, but neither the man or Aoko were here.

Like ghosts, they simply vanished. 

‘There is no way around it’, Hakuba bitterly sighed as he looked through the windows of the director’s office. 

Nakamori Ginzou hummed in agreement, breathing hard onto his cigarette to relieve his incredible irritation. ‘’Told you, Hakuba, I know he is hiding in the undergrounds, but this damn opera is a maze, and though I’ve been to every corner, none of our research ever led to anything concrete! Ah, screw that, I’ll call a construction team and make them destroy every brick of this cursed building!’

Thankfully, Hakuba discouraged such an idea. ‘Sir, think of what the world would think if we destroyed the opera only because we could not catch a mere thief! We would be ridiculed! Think of your reputation and the trust your superiors had put in you!’

‘That’s easy for you to say, you brat!’ The old man barked. ‘It isn’t your daughter that’s been kidnapped!’

‘Sir, please keep calm. Hasn’t Miss Momoi confirmed your daughter is barely scraped and resting in her dressing-room? Besides, Miss Koizumi saw her sprinting to the backstage after the shoots.’

‘Ah, yes they did, did they not...?’

Hakuba nodded. ‘Please let’s think rationally, if you let your emotions get you, we can never catch KID tonight!’

Nakamori groaned, but before any more sarcasm could come out of his mouth, the office’s door was promptly opened, letting in a totally out-of-breath Akako.
‘Ah, there goes this one’, Nakamori said, rolling eyes. 

‘Miss Koizumi?’

The young woman took four difficult steps into the room, and suddenly punched Nakamori’s desk with her fist, looking at him dead in the eye.

‘Nakamori Aoko has disappeared.’

‘What!’ Nakamori exclaimed, staggering Hakuba with his gaze before rushing in order to tear his face apart. ‘You tickster! Scammer! Hustler! You are Phantom KID, aren’t you?! Show me your face and give me back my daughter, you little...!’ 

Hakuba let out a short gasp before dodging Nakamori, this one ending up involuntarily throwing himself to the ground and hitting a pile of cardboard in the process.

‘Miss Koizumi’, Hakuba called, ‘How could this be? You told me yourself you saw Miss Nakamori rushing backstage, and Miss Momoi confirmed it!’

After catching her breath, Akako explained, ‘She was in her dressing-room, I heard her voice, and she was with a man; but the instant I opened the only door, it was completely empty!’

‘This bastard tricked us again!’ Nakamori screamed again as he got up.

‘This is bad’, Hakuba said. ‘We have no way to follow him if we don’t know where his hideout is!...’

‘I know how we can go.’

Akako’s blunt affirmation made both the detective and the director blink in disbelief.

‘I found another way to the undergrounds’, she said.

Chapter Text

Aoko blinked, the fresh humidity of the undergrounds’ corridor tickling her face. The mechanism of the mirror always was a little harsh in the change of atmosphere, no matter how many times one would use it.
Except perhaps for its master. 

Her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness that only reigned here, and she reached for a heavy candlestick she could somewhat see in the shadow. The moment she touched it, each of its candles’ strands lightened up, illuminating the narrow, damp corridor around her. Each of the water drops the walls transpired that fell on her made her shiver. In her precipitation, she did not think of changing clothes, and Lucie’s gruesome wedding dress stuck to her skin. 

Doing her best not to mind her bare feet against the cold and slippery floor, leaving tiny footprints behind her, Aoko walked forward, following the crooked path with the only sound of water to accompany her. Every now and then, other hollow openings were to be found, but she knew that she needed to go forward, always, and never deviate.

After long minutes of such a sinister stroll, the corridor led up to the riverside of the underground lake. There, a tiny boat was waiting for her.

She uncoupled a candle from her chandelier, and used it to light up the ones that were set up on the edge of the bark. Then, as calmly as ever, she climbed up into it, and unraveled the rope that tied it to the riverbank. 

As soon as she tried to row the paddles, she noticed how surprisingly useless it was. Despite the fact that the lake had no tide, the boat was moving forward on its own. Captivated by the magic of it, Aoko admired the game of lights and shadows that played among the walls, and it was not until the boat crossed the lake entirely that she realized that, beneath the troubled green waters, an old rail was what drove the boat in a straight line, very alike to mechanisms of a train with its wagons.

‘You were never truly a ghost, after all’, she whispered to herself when setting foot on land again, all while the little boat turned back to his starting point. 

A few more steps and she reached a strange door in window-dressing one could hardly discover with the naked eye, and engulfed herself into it. 

An even stranger room welcomed her there. Circled, with a tree all-made of iron wires at the center, the light in here was similar to the one of a full-moon night: calm, cold, and prompt to make one incredibly uncomfortable. 

On the walls, there were mirrors, mirrors, only mirrors that reflected this nightmare-like tree, and the second Aoko got closer, the door behind her closed itself, revealing another mirror, leaving the room without any escape.

Though she had gone through this room many times now, Aoko could not help but feel deeply frightened. He had never explained its purpose to her, she had never seen it in action, and the thought of what it could do scared her much more than whatever it would ever do.
What if she stayed locked up here forever?...

Seeing all these mirrors circling her, making her already forget where she came from, distilled panic into her, and she could not help but knock desperately unto the nearest one she found.
‘KID! KID? It’s me, Aoko! I came! Please let me in!’

Instantly, a sound of unlocking echoed, and Aoko could see one opening. She did not think twice and rushed into it, ending up in a much darker room, where only the faint candles upon a dinner table could brighten this windowless cave, and illuminate the mask of its owner as he was sitting behind it.
This, was the phantom’s dwelling place. 

In front of her, phantom KID, wearing his usual mask that covered the upper half of his face and a black outfit, played with his card gun by spinning it with his gloved index, while his other hand held his face. 

‘Good evening, professor’, Aoko muttered.

‘Well, hello to you too, my dear Lucie’, he answered, visibly amused by both her respect and fear. ‘You sure do make a radiant murderous bride!’

Aoko answered nothing to that, did not move in the slightest. He stopped playing with his gun, his tone of voice getting more serious.
‘Well. You wanted to come, and you are here. What is it you wanted to tell me? Much to my disarray, I am a talented magician, but not seer, and I doubt you wanted me to congratulate you for your performance tonight, did you?’

She remained silent for a few seconds, before snatching the pendant she wore off her neck, and throwing it across the table. KID caught it very easily. 

‘I wanted to make sure you follow our deal. I have done everything you wanted, I even lied to my father and the detective he hired, followed every single of your lessons, wore this ridiculous gem on the representation- I let even these guys point guns on me! But now, now that everything is done, will you keep your promise? Will you finally leave the opera and my father alone?’ She pleaded despite herself.

Phantom KID took time to take in her every word, then smiled again.

‘I wouldn’t have been too chagrined to never see this junk again…’ He sadly said as he admired the jewel tangling in his hand, before turning back to Aoko. ‘Yes, you have my absolute word. From now on, Phantom KID will be no more but the ghost of a name.’

On these words, he gripped a candlestick, and raised it to his side. Only then did Aoko see the two attackers, both having fainted and tied to the same chair, a blindfold onto their eyes and a gag in their mouth. When spotting them, Aoko slightly backed off, impressed.

‘These guys are the two last ones I need to take revenge upon. Afterward, I’ll be… Free, I suppose’, he continued with gloomy eyes, as if himself was not convinced by his own words.

‘And… When you say, “take revenge upon”... Do you mean... ‘

‘Oh, Miss Nakamori, a young girl such as yourself should not even try to brush such an evil concept!’

‘Ah!! There you go calling Aoko a baby again! You better stop that!’ She suddenly cried out. ‘You’re barely older than I am, I know for sure! You’re being ridiculous, acting like an old man!’

She pouted and crossed her arms, shifting away from him just for the aspect of it. KID blinked, somewhat stunned, and a candid laugh came out of him. 

It surprised Aoko to no end. She heard him laugh before, but it was always with a fake tone to it, as if he always was playing comedy and trying to reassure himself he was good at it- but never, ever in the six months she knew him, had she heard a laugh that felt so true.
She looked at him intensely as his chuckle subsided, and he stood up and showed her the door. 

‘Well, Miss Nakamori, I am very pleased I could see you one last time before the end of it all. Your father will worry sick if you remain here too long. Tell him that I am sorry, and that I’ll never be a bother again to any of you. You can go now: the door of the room will be opened for you, and the bark will guide you back to your dressing-room.’

Before she could say anything, he started to retreat into the darkness, and so Aoko dashed across the room, firmly catching the fabric of his sleeve.

‘Wait!!’

KID froze into place, then looked at her over his shoulder.

‘There was something else I wanted to ask you’, she pleaded. ‘And as the one who was able to “free” you, I entirely deserve it!’

Slowly, ever so slowly, KID turned toward her again.

‘Of course. Go ahead, ask your question.’

His sudden acceptance caught her quite off guard, and suddenly, unsure of how and why, she became shy.

‘Can… you show me your face? There is one last thing I need to… make sure of.’

Despite his mask, she felt his eyes delve into her in a way she had never experienced before, pouring nothing but more curiosity to what could be behind it.

‘Why don’t you see for yourself?’

He put down the chandelier he was holding and took her hand in his. For an instant, he stared intently at the bad scrap one of the bullets had caused to the side of her hand. It had stopped bleeding by then, and was not very deep but it did not hurt any less, and the contact alone made her wince at the pain.
When she did, she swore she could see an odd melancholy dwelling in his eyes, as he caressed the burn ever so slightly.

He then guided her hand toward his face, and Aoko needed no more. A move of her palm, and the mask fell to the ground. 

The face she found underneath was a painful one to look at, by far more painful than any bullet light scraps could ever be.

And, above all these things one could never faithfully describe, the scariest thing in all of this were the two red eyes she found there, a crimson red that was nowhere near mortality. Yet, despite all of that, she could still recognize him. Little by little, she put her soft hands upon his disfigured temples, Kuroba Kaito ’s temples, the childhood friend she lost years ago.

‘So it really was you…Why didn’t you tell me?! All this time… Did you even think of how much your disappearance hurt me? Of how long I have waited for an explanation, a mere sign that you were being alive, or anything really! Idiot! Jerk!’

All along she was speaking, tears came down streaming on her face, puddling with the bloody makeup she still wore, but none of her sudden outburst stopped him from drawing himself out of her embrace, and her heart broke in two instantly.

‘What for?’ He said, his tone suddenly severe, distancing himself from her. ‘For you to see how I must live like a rat in catacombs to survive and accomplish an act as selfish as revenge using you? Or to take me in pity because of my face, like a three-legged dog? No, thank you. Now that we won’t ever see each other again, it doesn't matter anymore that you know, that is why I let you take off my mask. There is no more to that.’

Aoko could not believe what she was hearing. She stayed petrified, though her mind yelled to her to catch him before it would to late -and as a compromise, her body raised her hand toward him.
‘Kaito, do you really think I’d ever be able to see you like that? No, I could not- I could never- Kaito, please-’ She stuttered, hesitant, not knowing how to tell him not to go.

‘As I said, it does not matter any longer.’

How cold! How egotistical! How selfish! It truly could not be anyone but Kaito to utter such heartless and fake words in a situation like this.  She knew he did not mean such a thing, though she only know him as a child -the fact was that he felt stuck, and therefore fleeing was the only thing he felt within his reach. 

‘W-we could see each other again!’ Aoko protested. ‘Just tell me where you’ll be and I’ll come!...’

Kaito laughed. ‘I do not think you understand, Aoko. You belong to the light -and I belong to the darkness, now. With a face like mine, I’d scare anyone, you included. What you think to be affection toward me will soon turn into disgust and simple nostalgia, and you’ll end rejecting me too.’

‘Do you even hear yourself right now?!’ She exclaimed, raising her arm toward him. ‘There is no such thing as an unlovable person belonging in the darkness! There has never been! We could live together as normal people again, you and I!

He bitterly chuckled as he lowered his gaze to the ground. ‘And how, tell me? We are no brother and sister. In this city, the only way we could ever live together without eternally damaging your reputation is as husband and wife, and that is clearly out of questi…’

‘Idiot.’

Her interjection made him raise his eyes again, only to see Aoko obviously embarrassed, but somewhat… determined. As if she meant…

Oh.
Oh. 

Kaito did not know how to answer that. And so the time distorted itself as the silence went on, him deep in thoughts, so deeply examining the rests of his Pandora-poisoned heart, trying to convince himself this was purely hopeless- and yet, finding himself to hope . 

Long minutes later, he let out a sigh, a sigh he seemed to have waited his entire life to let out.

‘Alright. I… am willing to try.’

‘Kaito!’ 

Her little feet taped and taped across the tiling, until he found her arms wrapped around him -a gesture he thought he would never experience again.
This felt… nice. 

For the very first time, in a very, very long time, his heart, so young and yet so old, felt relief, hope, and -dare he say it?- happiness. 

‘What is this room...? ’

‘Keep it down! That damn KID could be anywhere near! ’ 

This unexpected dialogue that could be heard through the walls made Kaito and Aoko reluctantly detach from one another.

‘This… is father’s voice!’ She whispered, utterly surprised.

‘Tch’, Kaito spitted, ‘They must have discovered the secret passageway and followed your footprints.’ 

As if it was a reflex, Kaito put his hand underneath the table and pulled a lever. Automatically, locking sounds resonated, and he signed Aoko to take his hand, which she did, as they made their way near the door behind which Hakuba, Akako and Mr Nakamori were. He beckoned her to stay silent. 

‘Hey! The door behind us just locked itself! ’

‘This is no good at all… ’

‘Hello, director’, Kaito suddenly called with a cocky smile. ‘Long time no see!’

‘KID! YOU BASTARD! GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER AND SURRENDER!’ A bunch of punches again the mirrors accompanied 

‘You’re really in no place to negotiate, I fear, my dear director’, Kaito snickered. ‘Do you know what the room you’re in is?’

‘Oh, why would I care, you miserable little…!’

‘Oh, but you certainly should! This is here your destiny will play out! See, life in a damp underground may be more than a little boring, sometimes. What you are in right now is a torture chamber on another kind, you see!’

Aoko stared at him with enormous eyes as he said that, silently repeating the fatal words ‘torture chamber’, and yet, Kaito continued, more amused than ever.
‘A torture chamber…’ Hakuba said again.

‘Yes! But the damages it inflicts are more mental than physical. The mirrors you see can be used to simulate any landscapes there are in the world. I can send you to either Sahara or an Ecuadorian forest all the way it pleases me, with an approximate climate of course, and as you’ll never find the exit, you’ll lose your sense of orientation, reality, and perhaps even become totally insane! I have never tested it out on anyone, but I am most thrilled to try it tonight for my finale!’

‘ What… ’

Kaito felt Aoko’s hard grip on his arm most vigorously as she whispered with a torn-out voice: ‘No! Kaito, no!’

While Mr Nakamori blurted out another row of flourished insults at him, he could not stop to laugh as he murmured to Aoko ‘I’m joking, joking!’, finally making her let go.

Kaito picked up the main conversation, if that could be called so, again. ‘ However , my fiancée over here isn’t very fond of the idea, and I take my pride in being a gentleman’, he chirped, ‘So I’ll make an exception for tonight, especially for my father-in-law. Good evening to you, director!’

‘Fiancée?! Father-in-law?! Has he gone nuts or something? Hey, KID, explain yourself! KID! Are you hearing me?! Get back here this instant!!’

Kaito said no more, and smiled at Aoko.
‘Let’s go’, he announced. ‘We’ll have all the time to explain ourselves later.’

She showed a little hesitance, but knowing her father was obviously in no condition to listen to her in any way right now, she nodded, smiled, and tightened her grip on Kaito’s hand.
‘Yes. We came as ghosts, let us disappear as ghosts!’

‘KID! Get back here this instant! KID! KIIID!’

Mentally and physically exhausted by the entire evening, Akako had not manifested anything ever since they had crossed the underground lake, and as soon as they arrived in the tree room, she withdrew off the situation, sitting on the ground, her back against a mirror, and an overcoat on her shoulders, which Hakuba kindly lent to her.
For the first time in her life, she felt like crying like a little girl again. But she could not. She truly could not. 

When KID seemed to have been definitely gone, and no door seemed to open, she lost hope. They were trapped, and she was the only way they could escape now.
They needed her magic. 

It was dangerous, she knew it was. But I have no choice , she thought, or I’ll end up being an emaciated corpse between these walls! And I don’t want to! I really, really don’t want…!

Suddenly, they heard a clicking sound, and one of the mirrors opened itself.

Oh, maybe not. 

Nakamori was naturally the first one to rush to the home of the phantom -but there, then found nothing, absolutely nothing, except a still burning candlestick, a dinner table and its chair, and a most singular note.

Ladies and gentlemen, 

You are the guests of honor of a ceremony like no other!

Before your amazed eyes, the ghost of a disfigured magician shall marry the ghost of a killer bride: a wedding beyond the mortal realm!

Little did the three of them knew that, the day after, such invitations would be overflowing everywhere in the capital: in the opera, theaters, music-halls, town hall, cafés, streets, the sewers and the desk of the Emperor himself!

Needless to say, the whole capital was outpouring with excitement, as we all would.