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"Hes presumed to be in his early twenties, at most 24. He is a mixed race asian and african american with albinoism. He's 5'1 to 5'3, and his eye colour is as purple as lilacs. He's legally blind, yet stealthy. He doesn't fight, rather he runs away. Witnesses have claimed him to be rather frail in frame. If you have any leads to this report, contact your local officers at 110. Reminder, this male has been wanted for-" Saihara turned off the report with a deep sigh. Hes been on this case for 2 years now, since the start of his carreer.
Saihara's smart. That's one thing important for lead detectives on a case like this, but the theif seems smarter. So many things have lead to dead ends... He doesn't understand how someone is so fast, yet so frail? He's never had an assault case, never had a weapon, and never wanted to fight the security who's caught him. Saihara's sighs of anger turned into frustration. He needed a breather. Not from working on the case, no, he needs a break from listening to the loud annoying ticks and tocks coming from the clock accross his front room. He scratched the back of his neck as he walked to his office. It was a neat little space, full of navy blues and blacks. Bookcases full of novels, from murder mysteries to crime novels. On his desk were folders full of different things left at the crime scene, and things found in his house. He knew the theif was a fan of Saiharas work, there are handwritten letters adressed from "The Phantom Theif" to Saihara. While it was creepy how he found some hidiously checkered items laying around his house, he knew the theif wasnt stealing anything. Saihara keeps all his valuables and expensive items in his office, he keeps track of them aswell. Nothing besides an office pen has been stolen.
Letters apon letters were found adressed to Saihara, he kept them to read over. He had an odd warm feeling towards the criminal. He wasn't violent, and while he did steal things, it was never monumental things. Now that he thinks about it, all the stolen items were things Saihara had liked. A saphire stone, diamond crested magnifying glass, saphire roses, never death lillys, and colour flamed candles. Wait. That's out of place...
Saihara sat down in his office chair, hunching back before thinking outloud. "That's so- out of place... He breaks into an antique store and steals- coloured flame candles? That doesn't make sense... Why those? They still make them but electric powered now.. Hes only stolen expensive things before... What's with the sudden change? God dammit!" Saihara hit his fist on his desk in frustration. Why couldn't he figure him out?
A giggle coming from outside his office threw him off track. "U-uh-Uhm... Hello? Who's there!" He called out.
Silence. So he tried again.
"I said, who's there!" His voice more assertive.
A small letter slipped from under his door followed by frantic footsteps. Shit.. It was him. The Theif himself. Saihara paused, he didn't hear a door close.. The theif was still in there.
"Show yourself, Phantom Theif. I know you're still here. Come in, let's talk." Saihara sat back down. A small knock echoed through the room, why would he knock?
"I know it's you, I want to see you. I notice you like checkered items, is that correct?" Saihara hummed as the door opened, in came a short man with a clown styled mask... Dammit.
"Oooo! Hi detective! Huge fan by the way, I LOVE what you've done with the place! Is that the new R.L Stine book?" The theif tilted his head. He sat down across from Saihara.
The theifs smart, but Saihara can be smarter. The chair is rigged. As soon as the theif sat down, cuffs shot up through the chair and chained the theif down. Saihara smirked and pushed up his glasses.
"Sneaky detective. Fineee.... You caught me! Now whatcha' gonna do? Turn me into the police? 110 on your phone?" The theif hissed.
Saihara shook his head and laughed while he got up from his chair, "I'm not turning you in. I just.. I'm just curious about you." He walked over to the criminal with a cocky smile.
The theifs mask was lifted. His eyes as purple as lilacs, pale soft skin, he looked innocent. He didnt look like a criminal... Saihara was suprised. The theif was.. Adorable.
"Wh-what's your name?.. I wont turn you in... I swear on my badge." Saihara tilted his head, questioning the mystery-man.
"Ouma. Ouma Kokichi." Ouma answered.
Saihara hummed, he didn't expect an answer from him. "Ah, well hello Ouma-kun, you know me already.. Saihara Shuichi. I've kept all your letters and stuff, how long have you been investigating me? You should be asking me that... But you've done research on your own."
Ouma nodded, "Oh I know, detective Saihara Shuichi. I know pleeenty about you!" He cooed.
Theres something off about him.. Saihara just knew it... But what was it?