The thief fled, the sound of his fast breaths drowned out by the bank's alarms, the wind whipping his purple hair around his face. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, making him feel lighter than air despite the sack of cash he carried over his shoulder.

Behind him, footsteps echoed. The thief glanced behind him to see a detective hot on his heels. He laughed as his adrenaline high spiked up a notch. Things just got a lot more interesting.

"Lovely night for a game of tag!" he called.

"Stop right there and turn yourself in!" the detective called back.

"Why do people always say that?" the thief asked. "Does anyone really expect it to work?"

The detective didn't answer. The chase had him gasping for breath.

The poor guy must not exercise very often, the thief thought. Disappointing, but it does make it easier for me to escape.

Now far from the bank, the thief was able to duck into the city's maze of alleyways, quickly losing the detective.

A few days later, a similar scene played out. This time, the thief had stolen priceless jewels from a museum.

The thief ran, keeping his eyes open for a pursuer. At first, no one appeared. The thief slowed down a bit, wondering where his new playmate could be. He made it to the museum's entrance without any effort, still searching. As he was passing the doors, a hand shot out, grabbing the thief's hand and slapping a handcuff on his wrist. The thief ripped his hand away, and looked up to find the detective's golden eyes. He backed up, ready to run.

"Nishishi! That wasn't very nice. Isn't it against the rules for an honorable detective like yourself to set up an ambush?"

The detective ignored the question. "Kokichi Ouma, we know who you are. You won't be able to evade the police forever. Give yourself up, and face your wrongdoings with dignity."

"Kokichi Ouma?" the thief intoned. "Who's that? You must have the wrong guy. I'm just a nameless thief, not like you, detective Shuichi Saihara."

The detective's eyes widened. "How do you know who I am?"

The thief smiled menacingly. "Finding your name was a piece of cake. I also know where you live and who your friends and family are. Still want to chase me?"

The detective looked worried for a moment, then collected himself. "I won't let you hurt them," he declared. He darted forward. The thief, however, had been expecting it, and took off, losing the detective once again.

On and on it went, the detective unable to catch then thief but getting closer every time. Both found their game becoming increasingly tedious, so the thief decided to end it, starting one final chase.

This time, the chase led them to an abandoned warehouse. The thief was trapped, his back against the wall.

"Give up," the detective said. "There's nowhere for you to go."

The thief giggled. "A word of advice, detective. Don't let yourself be led somewhere by someone you don't know. My minions have this place completely surrounded."

"I'm not going to fall for your lies-" the detective said, only to be interrupted by a blow to the back of his head. He blacked out.

...

The thief hummed as he walked, his steps echoing through the hallways of Dice's base. He entered an elevator and pushed the button for the third underground level, his anticipation building every second.

Finally, the door opened, and the thief stepped out into a vast room. He stopped to appreciate his collection within.

Cages and animal habitats were scattered across the room. The thief had always had a childish side, and what reminded people of childhood more than a zoo? However, he was picky with the animals he collected. Predators had always been his favorite, so the private zoo was filled with everything from sharks to lions to komodo dragons.

The thief was especially excited to see the newest addition to his collection. He made his way to an enclosure that was different from the others. While the other exhibits were filled with water or grass, this one was closer to a room you'd find in a house, complete with furniture. Three of the walls were clear. The third wall was a plain off-white with a door that led into a small private restroom.

On the floor of the enclosure, the detective was curled up, still unconscious. Rather than wait for the detective to wake up on his own, the thief loudly rapped on the plexiglass. The detective stirred, opening bleary eyes. He looked confused for a moment, then unsuccessfully struggled to stand when he took in his unfamiliar surroundings. He settled for sitting upright, a headache splitting his skull.

"Careful, you've been asleep for a while," the thief warned. "You should take it easy until you're recovered completely."

The detective pressed his palm against the glass. "Where am I? Why did you bring me here?"

"Well, to answer your first question, you're in my personal zoo. As for why I brought you here, it's because you're my new pet." The thief smiled at him possessively.

"P-pet?!" the detective stuttered.

The thief nodded. "Yep. I keep lots of animals here as pets. Only predators though. I like seeing the mighty brought under my control. It's sort of a personal thing. I need to be able to see that nothing will be able to hurt me again, no matter how dangerous it may be."

"But I'm not an animal! I'm Shuichi Saihara, a human being!" he protested.

"No, you're not an animal," the thief agreed. "But you are a detective, and detectives and thieves are naturally predator and prey, regardless of their shared status as humans. In other words, our identities as people aren't important, only that you are a detective and I'm a thief, which means we will always be enemies. As fun as our little game was, you were becoming too much of a threat, so my options were to kill you or trap you. Obviously, you know what I chose. You should be grateful."

"It doesn't have to be this way," the detective pleaded. "Let me out of here, and turn yourself in. You can still change."

The thief shook his head. "No, I can't." He looked the detective up and down, feeling a twinge of emotion he didn't want to examine too closely. "Don't bother trying to break out. Even if the walls weren't made of plexiglass, the furniture is all bolted down. The sooner you accept your situation, the better off you'll be." With that, the thief turned and walked away, thuds resounding behind him as the detective pounded his fists on the walls of his new prison.