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Vergier’s men were in disarray. Even though the inspector had made sure to block all escape routes, Phantom R still managed to slip through somehow, smiling fearlessly with an artwork in his hand. He was starting to think that the Paris Constabulary might just be incompetent, seeing how Phantom R could pull off a heist in a clear afternoon—it wasn’t even late into the evening. There really was no excuse for them to mess up this badly. The inspector pinched the bridge of his nose, before turning back to command the constables to pursue him.
Although he worked well with the thief against Napoleon, or Leonard Bonar, as he later learned, they were still natural enemies. It had been almost two years since then, half a year since Phantom R returned from wherever he disappeared to, and Vergier had been back to trying to arrest him again this entire time.
One of the constables managed to block Phantom R’s direct path, thinking they’d finally catch him. However, he and his dog jumped over his head with ease and landed behind him, not forgetting to tip his hat to the confused constable before running off, like he was putting on a show. Flashiness seemed to be his modus operandi.
“Don’t let him go!” the other constable yelled, seeing that Phantom R was already out the door. Fortunately, visitors had been cleared out as soon as they realized Phantom R was here as they would get in the way of the chase, so there was no one nearby, putting him out in the open.
Vergier rushed out after him along with the rest of the force. This was their chance. He couldn’t escape by blending in with the crowd if there were no crowds. They only had to make sure he couldn’t get away.
“Damn you, Phantom R,” someone muttered angrily, and before Vergier realized it, he heard a familiar click.
Then, a loud bang rang in Vergier’s ears, pausing everything around them. That person must’ve succumbed to the pressure and, pushed by the taunting, opened fire on him. Phantom R’s eyes widened, as surprised by the gunshot as he was.
“Merde– What the hell did you do?!” Vergier whipped his head back, being the first to regain his composure, shouting at his men—whoever it was that decided to shoot. “We want him alive! Put that gun away!”
They weren’t supposed to shoot at him or even shoot at all. Vergier would give that person a good lashing after this. The punishment would not be light. He could feel his blood pressure rising through the roof, but for now, they had to focus on Phantom R. Vergier was also worried the bullet would hit him, and he prayed silently that it missed.
Immediately, Phantom R jumped backwards to put more distance between them. He flipped and twirled in the air, landing gracefully on his feet with his back to the Constabulary force. The thief took off his hat before spinning around, holding it to his torso and bowing like an actor after a successful performance.
“Show’s over, folks. Too bad you can't catch me this time,” he smirked, taunting the constables with his cockiness. “Au revoir!” Phantom R bade as he ran off with his dog, avoiding his pursuers and blending in with the nearest crowd before the rest of Vergier’s force could catch up.
“Inspector Vergier, he’s getting away again!” someone shouted from behind.
Vergier clicked his tongue. “I’ll pursue him! You stand by for further directives!” he shouted back, and immediately took off running in Phantom R’s direction alone. More people would only get in the way.
But Phantom R was fast. Vergier combed the nearby streets for his traces, but he was nowhere to be seen. He asked passersby if they had seen a young man with red hair in a suit, but everyone he had asked answered no. Vergier grumbled at the seemingly hopeless chase, on the verge of giving up and letting him go for another day.
It was when he reached a new block that a commotion reached Vergier’s ears. Turning in the direction of the noise, he saw a familiar dog barking at the side of the street, so loud that it was becoming a public nuisance. It spotted Vergier at the same time that Vergier spotted it, and the mutt rushed to him. The dog—Fondue, if he recalled correctly—bit the cuff of his trousers and pulled with its whole body, clearly an attempt to make Vergier follow it. Its owner was nowhere to be found.
Vergier had some idea why, so he didn’t hesitate to comply. It led him to a quieter street, stopping at the entrance of an alley, and began barking frantically and running ahead of Vergier.
Before going in, something caught the inspector’s eye, and he looked down.
Blood. A minuscule amount, but it was undoubtedly blood, and the trail led deep into an alley. Vergier didn’t need time to think. He rushed into the alley following the droplets that grew bigger and bigger until he came to a stop in the middle, facing a head of red almost matching in hue. Fondue barked again, circling the young man and placing its paw on him. It seemed that no one answered his prayer.
Phantom R was slumped on the ground, his hat at his side, his suit jacket off his shoulder, and pressing at his stomach instead. Vergier could see deep red seeping out in the white shirt under the bundle of fabric. Cold sweat formed on Vergier’s back as he rushed to the young thief’s side. Phantom R was his nemesis, the source of his headache, but he was not a villain. They saved Paris from Napoleon’s attack together. He was around his child’s age. His crimes did not warrant bleeding out in an alleyway alone.
“Inspector…” Phantom R stirred, weakly calling out when he saw Vergier’s figure at the corner of his eyes. Fallen on the ground at some distance away from them was a phone with the emergency number put in but incomplete—that meant he didn’t manage to call an ambulance for himself.
This was bad. It was worse than he thought. The metallic smell assaulted his nose as he checked Phantom R’s condition. With his shirt unbuttoned and out of the way, Vergier could see that the bullet hit him in the abdomen. He was bleeding from only one wound, so the bullet was still inside him, which Vergier would later have to deal with somehow. While Phantom R did well to slow down the bleeding on his own, it already took Vergier ten minutes to track him down. This had become a race against time.
Vergier didn’t waste any time before calling the ambulance, giving them the location, and informing the hospital about Phantom R’s condition.
“Don’t fall asleep. Keep pressing,” he said with a firm voice, turning his attention from his phone to the young man before him. “The bullet didn't hit any vital organs. You’ll be fine.” Vergier reassured Phantom R even if he didn’t know how true that statement was, not having enough time to thoroughly assess him. He put his hands out to help him compress the wound when Phantom R lost the energy to do so.
Phantom R weakly groaned in pain. He had been grazed by a bullet before, but never fully shot like this. “Hurts like hell… though…”
“I’ve been shot before, too.” Vergier’s training kicked into gear. He started talking, trying to keep Phantom R from falling unconscious with trivial chatter. “It really does hurt.” The wound felt like a deep burn, he recalled. It was nothing for the first few moments, until he became aware of it and reality set in. Now Phantom R was going through that, too.
Phantom R’s head leaned on his shoulder, trying to calm himself and keep his breath steady. “Really now…? Being an inspector might be… a more dangerous job than I thought…” He did his best to continue, catching onto Vergier’s attempt at small talk. Without his fancy getup, he was a painfully normal young man. Talking was all he could do to keep his fear at bay, though even when he was barely conscious, he was still a smoother talker than Vergier somehow.
(Vergier had never seen Phantom R with fear in his eyes. No matter how much the constables closed in on him, they always had a glint that said he would slip away somehow. He wasn’t sure if he’d like to see it ever again.)
“Of course it is. What do you think I do? Chase cats around Paris?” Vergier scoffed. Maybe he was doing exactly that. A big, thieving cat that kept slipping away from the net. “That stunt you pulled was impressive, though. If I were you, I’m not sure I could hide it like that.” That was sincere. If it weren’t for the scene Fondue caused, Vergier would’ve assumed Phantom R got away safely like usual too.
Thinking back, Vergier could figure out what happened now. When he landed after distracting everyone with his fancy footwork, Phantom R hid the initial wound with his hat, incorporating it into his dramatic exit, and fled before his white shirt became noticeably stained. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug, sure, but it must’ve taken massive willpower to keep smiling in that situation.
Phantom R let out a faint chuckle at the compliment. “I just did… what I thought was best…” he muttered. “‘Phantom R shot during a heist’… that would make quite the news… wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Vergier replied somberly. He really was quick on his feet, a master at improvisation who escaped his grasp every time. “Thanks.”
Vergier really owed this one to him. Aside from Phantom R, the Constabulary’s reputation would surely take a hit if the people found out they carelessly shot at him. Phantom R was neither a violent thief nor an evildoer—he had fans and people who viewed him as a mysterious, charismatic hero. He broke the law and had to be arrested, but bringing him any unnecessary harm would cause the public to lose trust in them. That was the kind of cat-and-mouse game Vergier found himself in. Besides, if Phantom R was gone while Vergier struggled to keep control of the situation, a threat may slip in when no one was looking. They were not free from the real Napoleon’s looming presence yet.
So Phantom R saved them both by exiting the scene without a fuss, keeping this predicament to himself, and it was Vergier’s turn to save him.
The sound of the sirens blared not so far away. He kept his grip firm on the jacket. Half of it was wet from blood.
Vergier shook Phantom R lightly when he noticed his eyelids drooping. “Almost here. Stay awake,” he urged.
“Trying my best, Inspector…” Phantom R stirred and answered faintly, clearly forcing his eyes to stay open.
“Do you have anyone you’d want at the hospital? A family member?”
Vergier didn’t know how he’d contact them, considering he had no knowledge of Phantom R’s real identity, but as a parent, he would’ve raised hell if it were Charlie who was in life-threatening danger somewhere and he didn’t know, so he figured he should ask.
“Are you fishing for… my personal information now?” Phantom R retorted. He was still coherent enough to joke, which made Vergier a little less anxious. At least he wasn’t going into shock.
Phantom R continued with a hum in his throat. “No,” he slightly paused and heaved a breath, as if contemplating something. “No one... I’ve got just Fondue…” Hearing its name, Fondue nuzzled up to its master’s arm, whimpering with worry—a real smart dog. Besides being his best friend, it was also Phantom R’s partner in crime. They were always seen together on a heist. While Vergier was applying first aid, Fondue stuck close the entire time, trying to keep its master warm with its fur. The answer sounded sincere, and it robbed Vergier of his words for a moment.
(Not ‘I don’t want anyone to know’, but ‘there’s no one to be there’.)
Before Vergier could press any further, the EMTs finally arrived with a stretcher. Although their rare face-to-face chat was cut short, Vergier was relieved Phantom R was getting the medical help he needed. They worked quickly, knowing that time was precious in cases like this.
As he was carried to the ambulance, Vergier spoke, Fondue standing at his legs, whining when it couldn’t follow its master.
“I’ll head right to the hospital after dealing with some stuff. Don’t worry.”
Since the day he was shot, today was the first day Raphael felt truly conscious.
Not the first day he woke up, no. He had woken up before, but the aftermath of the surgery fogged his mind with nothing but pain, and then after that the pain medication put him out of commission for a few more days. It still hurt a lot, but his head was clearer, at the very least.
Raphael tried to sit up in bed. He lifted his head from the pillow and immediately hissed from the pain. It hurt even more than the gunshot itself, if he had to compare.
“Don’t even think about it,” a gruff voice rang from the corner of the room.
Inspector Vergier was sitting in the chair, his cup of coffee placed on the table. His arms were crossed as his deep reddish-brown eyes bore sharply into Raphael’s own as if to scold him. He stood up and helped Raphael sit up the way the nurses showed him, before returning to his chair.
Now, Raphael had some recollection of the past few days about Vergier trying to make time each day to visit him. He just didn’t expect him to already be here before he even woke up and caught him in the act of pushing himself.
Raphael exhaled. He could pull a suave thief character when he had to or else he’d risk succumbing to his fear, but in a more controlled environment, the more choices that he had had become a burden. It was hitting him now in full force.
“I’m a sitting duck here, Inspector. You can’t have expected me to stay,” he said exasperatedly, stress finally taking over. “I– I can’t get caught like this.” His bravery cracking, his voice shook uncharacteristically.
Phantom R’s story could not end here. He hadn’t even found his father and asked him why he left, still following leads left and right, with some of them being dead ends placed only to stall him now that he knew Raphael was involved. Prosecution was not something he could afford. Raphael gripped the blanket as hard as he could in frustration, but even that was too much for his worn-out body right now.
(He never fared well with hospitals either. It reminded him of when he was young and sick. It was the reason why his father made forgeries.)
Still, Vergier didn’t budge. “You’re in no shape to run from the constables. Leave, and you will be arrested.” He crossed his legs, his voice stern when he spoke to Raphael. It sounded almost like a threat.
But while the inspector was strict, he wasn’t cruel. Vergier could tell there was a deep worry in Raphael’s heart even though he didn’t know all the details. “I’m risking my job to keep you here. Rest up, so you can hurry out of here before anyone catches on,” he closed his eyes as he said, slightly softening up. “And before you ask, no, I haven’t reported this. This is a personal affair. Officially, you escaped from the scene and shook the constables off again. I just happened to run into a random injured civilian while pursuing you.”
Raphael blinked as he listened to the other’s words. Vergier… protected him?
He could understand saving his life. It was a dire situation, but Raphael didn’t expect Vergier to continue hiding him. He didn’t know how long that explanation would hold up before someone got suspicious, but for now, the inspector wasn’t hellbent on putting him behind bars, and the thief should appreciate it as much as he could.
Raphael let out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding this whole time.
“I know I can’t slip out like I always do. I’m not stupid,” he muttered. “I’ve got a tube in my stomach. I couldn’t run even if I wanted to.” Brown eyes glanced away from the other, looking out the window instead, giving in and accepting his current state. The sound of the IV drip was so loud, somehow.
A lump formed in Vergier’s throat. His dejected look instead of confidence, with the sterile hospital blanket draped around him instead of a dapper black suit and tubes connecting to his body, made Vergier speechless. It was not a sight he ever imagined seeing Phantom R in—too intimate, too vulnerable. This was not the criminal he had spent years hunting down. This was a young man who had a mission beyond Vergier’s knowledge, someone he wasn't supposed to know.
“I’m paying you back for saving the Constabulary’s face… I can’t guarantee a next time, Phantom R,” he muttered. For some reason, he didn’t sound like his heart was truly in it in the last part.
Hearing so, a tiny laugh escaped Raphael’s throat. “…Raphael,” he muttered. “This is a personal affair, right? You shouldn’t keep calling me Phantom R in your private time. That’d be suspicious.”
Vergier let out an amused exhale, noting it down in his mind. “Since you’re willing to tell me your name, can I have the details on where you hid the stolen painting too?” he pushed. It was worth a try.
Picking up the cracked piece of his composure and putting it back together, he felt more like having their usual banter now. “No can do, Inspector. That's a trade secret. I’ll return it when I get better, like usual,” he gave a relaxed, slightly smug smile that seemed much more like himself.
Vergier groaned. “Of course,” he huffed. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have taken him this long to know this much. Vergier stood up, grabbed his cup of coffee, and approached Raphael’s bed. “Go back to sleep, Raphael,” he said, laying the young man back down and patting his head exactly twice before heading out, probably to his work, where he would spend another day looking over Phantom R’s file while knowing full well where he was.
Raphael looked up at the white ceiling, blinking absentmindedly at the gesture. He just might. His head sank into the pillow, pushing the dull ache in his abdomen out of his mind, and sleep claimed him easily.
“Ow!”
Phantom R yelped as he landed on his feet, having leapt off the roof of the museum. He slightly wobbled, but got back on his feet fast enough to run away again before the constables could reach him.
He might not have been fully healed of his injuries yet, but time didn’t wait for anyone. There were many more paintings to be swapped and mysteries to be solved. Paris hadn’t seen Phantom R for months, and he was itching to return. Fondue followed behind him like always. It wouldn’t be a proper heist without him, after all.
(Vergier placed Fondue in Marie’s care while Raphael was in the hospital. If he had brought the dog back home with him, Charlie would’ve flipped out. He’d rather not bring them into this, even though it might’ve been too late. Marie also visited him occasionally to tell him that Fondue was all well. He might’ve gotten a little fatter, too.)
A rough voice boomed not far behind right after. “Hey! What did I tell you about staying put, Phantom R?!” Inspector Vergier yelled, immediately running after the other when he was about to escape the premises.
Phantom R’s face twisted into a complicated expression upon hearing the older man. Unlike usual, Phantom R wasn’t doing any fancy footwork and flips this time. They were just running straight on the ground. A dog, a thief, and a detective in that order, and it did look quite goofy. “A phantom thief needs enrichment, Inspector Vergier! You can’t keep me from the treasures foreve– yeowch!” His foot landed weirdly, and pain shot up from his abdomen again, cutting him off before he could finish yelling out his sentence.
Fondue whined at him from the front, slightly turning back to see his master. “I’m fine, Fondue.” Phantom R smiled softly. “Besides, we have a bigger problem on hand right now.” He gestured to Vergier following behind him with less softness and a louder voice, earning himself another exasperated “hey!” from the inspector.
“What are they even doing…?” Another detective observed the scene from the top of the building nearby, sweat sticking to their forehead as they muttered to themself. Phantom R was inactive for a while, and they, too, had been itching to confront him again ever since they learned of his return. Charlie was going to ambush Phantom R when he slipped away from the constables, but instead, they were watching their nemesis, his dog, and their father play tag with their binoculars.
Fondue stopped in his tracks then turned around to give a warning bark at Vergier, before jumping on his face. “Argh! Damn mutt!” Vergier staggered backwards as he tried to peel Fondue off of him. Charlie turned their attention from the two to Phantom R who looked back in surprise for a moment, before he continued to clumsily run, not wasting the extra distance Fondue gave him. A faint shade of pink dusted his cheeks as he cackled with unbridled amusement the entire way.
“…Huh?” the young detective pulled themself away from the binoculars, furrowing their eyebrows.
Safe to say, Charlie was aghast. Now, they had no other choice but to corner Phantom R and ask what the hell was going on as soon as possible.