Deceit - The Phantom Thief

Chapter 12: Reality And Realisations

Under the dim spotlight of a moonlit sky, the Phantom Thief skillfully picked the lock on the detective's bedroom window and clambered inside, collapsing on the foot of the bed in a heap. He had been dropped off close by near a row of shops a few minutes prior and had informed DICE that he needed to check on the amount of Panta in the convenience store. Fortunately, no one had questioned him, so his incredibly weak lie went unexposed. Pigtails had assumed that he just wanted to steal some and everyone else in the cloaked vehicle had agreed, warning him that if he got caught it would be his fault. Now, they were waiting nearby. He had to be fast.

The boy sat up on his knees with a groan and looked around the dark room. As his eyes adjusted to the shadows, he carefully climbed off of the bed and made his way toward the light switch to turn it on. Once the light bulb flickered on and restored the lack of colour to the room, he began to search for the threat the detective had mentioned.

No one was home. Obviously. He knew Shuichi lived alone so he could make noise and explore to his heart's content. Although, he'd still keep noise to a minimum; he wouldn't want any neighbours noticing the presence of an intruder in the apartment. Keeping that in mind, he crept hastily toward Shuichi's desk. 

Stuck on the wall above it was the photograph he had taken during the second heist and given to him that night where he had first broken into Shuichi's apartment. He'd printed all of the others too but had kept them hidden in his own bedroom at HQ as souvenirs.

"So he kept it, huh?" the criminal muttered to himself, an amused half-smile cracking at his lips. "He really is strange."

Averting his gaze from the photograph, he reminded himself that he had work to do and began rummaging through the desk drawers. As he dug further into the drawer, he couldn't help but think to himself that maybe he shouldn't have come at all. Anxiety bubbled in his chest, frothing like a malevolent cauldron filled with uncertainty. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't want to suspect his friends- his family. Maybe it was the thought that they could have gone behind his back and betrayed him. Maybe it was the idea that perhaps DICE hated him, and as much as he despised liars, he hoped the detective was lying about all of this.

Even though he had his doubts, he still had faith in his friends. It couldn't be true, not a chance. DICE would never do something like this without running it through with him first. DICE respected him - he was the leader! They were going to rule the world together, and finally be happy. Tch, this was all ridiculous. The thief reached the bottom of the drawer and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Without proof of the detective's claim, there was no way he would believe him. Having made no progress, he left the room and headed for the living room.

He turned the light on in there, too, and scrutinised the scene. On the coffee table was a pile of paper beside Shuichi's laptop. The criminal, slightly hopeful that this may further prove DICE's innocence, hurried towards the table. Without hesitation, he sifted through the sheets, analysing the contents of each one as he did. It had only taken him a moment to realise that these were related to tonight's heist - the apprentice detective's explosions of the calling card hint. He grinned at the neatly written notes, a smirk pulling at the edges of his mouth.

Was this how he managed to come to the conclusion he did? Even when he was certain that even if he did obtain the calling card that the hint would be almost impossible to crack? Shuichi Saihara was one smart man - perhaps he had underestimated him. He flipped through the rest of the papers and still found nothing that would point to his enemy being threatened. Was Shuichi Saihara, the famous crybaby apprentice detective, a dirty, rotten liar? It seemed so.

He chuckled lightly to himself, combing one gloved hand through his loosely tied-back hair. It really was too good to be true. He had been lied to, tricked, and deceived by the investigator who had put on quite the convincing act. He backed away from the table and decided it may just be best to leave, turning back towards the bedroom door he had left wide open.