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All in all, you’re quite content with your life.
Everything will turn out fine, you think to yourself everyday, and for the most part, things aren’t too bad. You have a nice place in the city, you have food on the table, you have fun and enjoy your little hobbies, and you have a pretty good job.
Being a museum curator wasn’t in your top ten dream careers when you were five, but nevertheless, it pays the bills, you’re happy, and all is well. You’re passionate about the history of your treasured artifacts, you love teaching the world about its origins, and the days are peaceful.
Did I mention, it’s usually, normally, very peaceful, and you live contently without any big hiccups in your day to day life?
You curse under your breath at the sight in front of you.
Everything will turn out fine, you remind yourself again, all is peaceful.
Except when police flood your workplace in wait for the infamous Kaito Kid.
His advanced notice from the day before has you stressed all day, the taunting wide smile of ink staring up at you as you’re trying to stay composed as possible while coordinating with the policemen. They’re setting up their traps as you close earlier than usual with an apology to those who made reservations and turning away patrons at the door. It doesn’t help that they linger on the steps, curious to see the grand performance of the phantom thief with front row tickets.
Turning away from Inspector Megure, your eyes land on the target of tonight’s show.
Crimson Reverie. It’s a brilliant red ruby, said to have been the crystallized blood of the great pirate’s lover, a young maiden who left her home to follow him to the depths of the warfare-ridden seas.
A part of you already knows what the outcome is, but you also feel a sliver of hope as the police get into place, lying in wait as the lights dim, the moonlight making the gem shine so brightly in the center of the stage. And somehow, it goes by so fast that you can barely keep up, shouts fill the air, and you barely stay covered in your hiding spot, watching it all go down, flashes of white filling your vision.
And of course, at the end of it, he successfully steals the gem, his white cape stark against the night sky as he makes his escape, smooth and sly like any proper thief.
It’s well past the time of your usual closing shift at the museum. Normally, you’d be in the comfort of your home, enjoying a warm dinner or spending time relaxing, yet here you were, assisting in cleanup and locking up in the late, late night after a debrief with the police force and detectives. Disappointment and frustration linger in the air, but you’re not too bothered by it—far too exhausted and the work you’re doing is definitely outside of your pay range. After finalizing the details of next steps, you bid the remaining forces goodbye as you run through your usual night routine before closing.
You let out a deep sigh as you lock the doors, eager to return to your little apartment and rest for the night. So much for peaceful; they should pay you overtime for tonight.
As soon as the thought crosses your mind, a drop of water lands on your shoe, followed by another, and another, before a shower soon begins outside.
Damnit, damnit, you think, as you quicken your pace and water begins to splash at your feet. Your shoes are soaked at the toe and you feel water seeping into your socks.
You’re so fucking tired and you just want to get home and out of the rain and you’re soaked and–
A sudden shadow casts over you, and there’s a moment where you’re not pelted by the unforgiving rain. Instead, it is drumming against the umbrella over your head.
Umbrella?
You turn your head slowly, only to be met with the face of the man who had caused you all the stress in the first place.
“Kaito Kid?”
“The one and only,” he says with a smile, pleased at your shocked reaction. “What’s a beautiful lady like you doing out in the rain this late?”
It goes unspoken, but he knows. You know. He surely remembers you, from the crowd of museum staff he flew over just a few hours ago, his eyes meeting yours as his lips are drawn in his trademark smile, the gemstone between his thumb and forefinger as he takes what is rightfully yours.
Technically, the museum’s, but you’re way too attached to it to care about specifics.
Anyways— there’s no way he doesn’t recognize you now.
“You know why,” you sigh, pointedly ignoring his cheshire grin, confirming your thoughts. “So, what about the umbrella?”
“Hm? Not going to ask for the gem back, Ms. Museum Lady?”
You shrug, not even questioning his casual manner and nickname for you.
“You’ll return it eventually, if it’s not the one you’re looking for,” you answer nonchalantly. “Besides, you’re doing me quite a favor when you could be out and about being a little thief and messing with the police even more—you’ve upset them plenty already.”
“What can I say? It’s so fun to play a game of cat and mouse with them.”
He waves the umbrella around, his sudden, exaggerated movements shake water onto your face and you sputter, wiping it off with your sleeve. The rain continues to pour, and while you’re intrigued by his presence, you pay more attention to the sidewalks ahead, narrowly avoiding large puddles to avoid ruining your shoes any further. You grimace as your clothes stick to your skin and your hair sticks drenched against your cheeks.
“And besides, how could I call myself a gentleman if I left you to walk home in the pouring rain?”
You eye his soaked figure up and down, watching his usually flowing cape stick to his frame, heavy and wet. Droplets of rain fall from the rim of his hat, and you can’t help but wonder how his hair is still fluffy and dry, despite the rest of his appearance.
He was looking quite pathetic, to say the least, like a wet dog that resembled a mop more than anything.
You were too, probably. Not your best moment, to say the least, but it’s not like you cared to be prim and proper in pelting rain.
“Maybe if you didn’t steal the gem tonight, I could’ve gone home earlier and stayed warm and dry.”
He’s silent for a moment, and you wonder if he’s truly considering your words before you hear–
“My apologies,” he finally says, laced with sincerity, something that seemed strange coming from the flamboyant, arrogant thief. “Hopefully this makes up for it.”
You hum, not wanting to give him instant satisfaction. You know how people see Kaito Kid, especially on social media, and you have no doubt he takes pride in his carefully crafted persona. The thirst comments are most prominent, followed by the curses and demands for his arrest and other predictions of his next targets. His sweet talk captures all the young ladies’ hearts, and you’re not going to let the man who ruined your sleep schedule for tonight do the same to you.
If you’re sick tomorrow morning, you’re definitely starting clout about him on your Twitter of forty or so followers.
The rest of the walk back is silent, and strangely enough, you don’t feel any lick of malice from the man who walks beside you, his footsteps echoing yours. If anything, you feel safer with his presence at your side, despite him technically being a criminal. But then again, you doubt he would do anything when he already completed his mission for the night.
Rounding the corner, you let out a relieved sigh at the sight of your apartment complex that stands just a few meters away.
“That’s me, over there,” you say, pointing at the building. “You don’t have to walk me all the way, I’m fine from here.”
“No, no, I insist!”
Strange, again, but you simply nod, letting him accompany you with his little umbrella still over your head. At the door, you turn to him, bowing slightly as you thank him for walking you back.
You take a better look at him, illuminated by the street lamps, and you can’t help but return a small smile at the sight of his infectious, boyish grin. He looks younger than you expected, having seen only faraway photos of him on the news. You would even go as far as to say he’s quite cute, but you make sure to keep it in your thoughts. You don’t want your first and last interaction to end with him teasing you with his flirty comments.
“Here.”
He gestures for you to take the umbrella from his hand, and you take it, confused.
“Don’t you want it? You should keep it for your way back home.”
Kaito Kid’s smile grows wider and he turns around.
“Sweet of you to care. Thank you, my lady,” he says softly. “But instead, you should check your pockets.”
What?
You look down, quickly stuffing your hand into your coat pocket and you can’t help the gasp that escapes you as you feel–
Crimson Reverie.
You pull it out, feeling its cold edges against your skin, seeing its polished sheen as it reflects the light from the streetlamp above.
“Hey, wait–”
He’s no longer standing in front of you, and you think you see a flash of white through the curtain of rain, disappearing behind the rooftops of the building across from you.
What a strange, strange thief.
The next day you return the gemstone to its rightful place, reporting it to the police as well with a white lie that it was left near the museum entrance that morning. You felt guilty at the thought of telling them that Kaito Kid had actually walked you home, and all that mattered was the gemstone being safe and secured in its display.
With that, you went back to work, organizing the archives, writing up a report regarding the prior night, and some more cleaning with the help of the janitor. You were quite thankful that Kid seemed to be conscious of his actions, only kicking up some dirt and messing up a few parts of the museum displays, but for the most part everything was intact.
The day goes by quickly, with more tasks on your plate that keep you busy. Luckily, you’re able to close at your usual time, falling back into your routine quickly as Kaito Kid’s great show dissipates into a fleeting memory. The skies are clear tonight, and you feel more refreshed as you step out into the night, taking a deep breath in, letting your shoulders sag and the stress in you release.
Your mind wanders to the night before, thinking back to Kaito Kid who was at your side, in step with you on the rainy night.
That was all.
You were simply a part of the audience, and he was the great performing magician on stage.
But that was all.
You can’t help but frown a bit – you curse at yourself. Of course, it was your fault for even feeling an ounce of disappointment, what did you expect?
A heavy sigh escapes your lips, and you close your eyes for a moment.
And then suddenly, your footsteps have an echo to them.
Your eyes fly open and you see a familiar shadow casted at your feet.
“Kaito…Kid?”
“The one and only.”
An umbrella is over your head again, and the words are the same, but this time, it is only accompanied by the sounds of traffic winding down for the night.
“It’s not raining,” you point out the obvious, and you hear him hum in affirmation.
“It’s not.”
Yet he falls into your rhythm, arm lifted to hold the umbrella above your head as you walk. The question lays heavy on your tongue, the one word, “Why?” is so close from leaving your lips, yet you don’t let it, opting to continue your path home instead, eyeing his white-clad figure at your side.
The streets are a little busier than the night before, with many getting off work and heading home for the night, or even to venture out into the citylife. Without a doubt, you get looks.
Many looks.
Kaito Kid hovers beside you with his little white umbrella, identical to the one you received from him last night. Girls gossip as they pass by, red-cheeked and drunk, their whispers a little too loud as they gush over the man by your side, who simply winks at them as they pass by.
You decide to get another good look at him, turning your head slightly to eye his pristine cape flowing slightly behind him with each step, his white tophat perfectly seated on his hair, and his bright eyes, trained straight ahead and taking in the scene before him, analyzing, waiting.
“No plans to steal anything tonight?” you ask, quietly, and you turn your head to lock your eyes with his. It seems like he didn’t expect you to talk, and he blinks for a moment before he puts on his usual smile.
“Only to steal your heart,” he answers, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his flirtation.
Before you can respond (and point out that maybe it’s just a little weird he’s going out of his way like this), he continues, “But in all seriousness, is it that wrong to pay you back for last night?”
“You already did,” you say. “Last night.”
“Well, I feel like I haven’t. So let me walk you home, safe and sound, my lady.”
And once again, you feel no red flags as he simply stands by your side, and you trusted him and his intentions–after all, he simply steals the finest jewels and returns them anyways, nothing more, nothing less.
So you let him walk you home, your usual route of winding city sidewalks becoming different with the man by your side.
Your journey home seems a little brighter than it used to be.
The next few nights are strange to you, looking back on it. You had just finished your usual closing routine, slipping your arms into your coat and grabbing the keys and your purse. Life is normal during the day, undisrupted despite the strange happenings at night. A part of you doesn’t want to admit how you look forward to the end of your shifts due to a certain white-clad man, but you do. Just a little. Maybe a bit more.
So much for your peaceful, normal life.
The night is empty and quiet as you step out the doors. Yet the moment you turn the key to lock the door, you know he would be waiting at the bottom of the stairs, the little white umbrella tucked under his arm as he leans against the railing.
Like clockwork, he appears as soon as you turn your back to the now locked door of the museum.
Some nights are calm as he accompanies you home, while other nights, like tonight, are filled with quiet conversation, his voice weaving in with yours amongst the city lights, whispers lost in the faceless crowds. But tonight, you ask to take a detour, wanting to walk through the small park near your apartment complex. He simply nods at your request, and you lead the way.
It’s a rather nice park, for what it is in the urban forest. Greenery surrounds the small lake, a wooden bridge cutting through it that leads to a small playground on the other side. Sometimes, small food carts and vendors make shops near the sidewalk, selling sweet treats and snacks for the children.
And for once, you can’t help but ask the question that has been on your tongue since day one.
“Why have you been walking me home?”
You’re nursing a hot chocolate in your hands, one that you got from one of said food vendors stationed near the mouth of the bridge. Kaito Kid holds a cup of his own, one that you forced on him as another show of your gratitude.
“It’s as I said before,” Kaito Kid responds casually with a shrug. “Paying you back for the inconvenience I caused.”
“You and I both know that’s bullshit,” you respond quickly. “The first night or two, sure. But it has been two weeks now–with no rain in sight.”
And in those two weeks, you may even go as far as to say Kaito Kid was more than just your escort back home. You know much, much more about the mysterious, illusive phantom thief, one that you may even consider a friend.
His grandeur riddles and extravagant actions would only spur your curiosity of the man, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, opening up about yourself, a bit more toned down for your own sake. Your dreams, your ambitions, your pain, and whatever else laying upon your tongue was so easy to spill out, the words filling the space between you and the phantom thief.
He’s silent, and you take the moment to crane your neck and look at him—his usual poker face paints his features, but you’re a bit surprised at his lack of words. It wasn’t common for him to mull over his next words, usually quick to flirt or retort with you, and the silence seemed to drag on longer.
“Is it so wrong to spend time with a beautiful gem like you?”
Stunned, you can’t help but let out a noise at the sudden compliment – he’s given you plenty before, but this time his voice is thick, honest, genuine, a wild shift from his usual playful tone.
“Crimson Reverie didn’t shine as brightly as I had hoped, but you did, on the night of my heist.”
He strides toward you, cape caressing his shoulder as it swipes forward around your frame, and suddenly you're embraced by white. Pulling you to his chest, he leans in, lips dangerously close to your ear, and softly says, “So, will you continue to shine for me, my lady?”
Not a moment later, your hands fisting the front of his shirt, you can’t help but think how strangely soft Kaito Kid’s lips are as you pull him into a kiss. When you open your eyes and pull away, you’re met with a bright grin of pure joy, as if he found whatever gem he’s been searching for, and a familiar white umbrella over your heads.
It’s a silent answer, but an answer that makes both of your hearts soar, regardless.
He’s captivating, and you can’t help but follow in his steps, falling under his spell and wanting more. You’re entranced by the raging, unknown seas of Kaito Kid, and you’ll eagerly take his hand if that means uncovering his mask.
“I’ll let you steal me away, but you have a lot of explaining to do.”
He grins.
“We’ll see about that, my sweet maiden.”