Stepping into his apartment, Shuichi groaned. While relatively calm air was in the atmosphere, that couldn't be said for the male himself. What was causing it? He doesn't know

A weirdly... comforting anxiety and confusion settled in his head and stomach, refusing to leave the detective alone. Each attempt to get his mind off of things, the feeling would come biting back at him stronger. Each time he tries to shoo off those thoughts, it just hisses back at him.

What are these human emotions? It's more confusing than general??

He sighed and took out his phone.

Whatever. I guess I'll just report to Makoto.

...

Picked up.

"Hey, Saihara. How was the investigation?" Makoto said from the other side. Faint scratching on paper was heard.

"Are you doing paperwork? If so, I won't bother you." Shuichi asked, sprawling over on his couch to get somewhat comfortable.

"Ah, no no!" Makoto replied frantically, "It's no bother. Besides, I'm really curious about the investigation. You're sharper than me."

"Nnnnno I'm not."

"Yes you are," the other sighed, "Now before you go on a tangent, the investigation?"

"Right, right," Shuichi stretched, refreshing his memories, "As you've probably known, Phantom Thief stole a tiny box of jewelry. Probably the size of a palm, at the total price of around 50.000 ¥, making it the most expensive he's stolen in one heist."

"As for the investigation itself, there were no other evidence left in the rooms that were not the crime scene and the rooms that led to there. So he didn't tamper with any other stuff. Apparently he broke in by lock picking the front door, evidenced by small marks around the keyhole."

Makoto hummed in understandment, "But how did he go undetected? The place has those machines that detect any humans who goes near the objects, right? And security cameras?"

"Well, I checked, and it seems someone may have planted a bug that causes it to dysfunction. It's really unlikely and quite impossible for it to be done just before the crime, so it's suspected that either he or someone else planted that while the museum was open. The staff said they'll send me the security camera footage."

"Okay then," Makoto processed all that information, "What about the actual crime scene itself?"

"Well, for starters, scuff marks were found on the floor. Meaning he still wore his shoes, that prick. Seriously, did he not see the sign to take off his shoes? Anyway," Shuichi sighed, looking to the side to recompose himself, "He left... a message."

"What... type of message?" sensing the uneasiness in Shuichi's voice, Makoto began to worry on whether or not he should press further.

But I have to. It's important for the case...

"A morse code was written with paint on the glass."

"What did it say?"

Shuichi hesitated. But he had to tell him. He can't just not tell him because of the selfish reasons that it gave him unsettling feelings.

"I want an interesting game." He spit those words with, not necessarily spite or hatred, but rather a sense of unfamiliarity.

"..." Silent. Makoto didn't know if by not saying a word he was making it better or worse.

"I'll email the photo to you, along with some other stuff," Shuichi leaned back and closed his eyes, "And speaking of other stuff, Phantom Thief left a calling card."

"Did he?"

"Yeah. Just taped it next to the code. On it was a letter of some sorts hinting to where his next heist is gonna be in the form of a... poem, for some reason. It's pretty long, so like I said, I'll just email it to you."

Makoto sighed, "Okay then. Is that all?"

Shuichi hummed in ponder, "I think yeah. Unless I missed anything."

"Well then, I'll be going now, if that's okay."

"Perfectly so. Bye Makoto."

"Goodbye Saihara."

And so, the call ended. Shuichi exhaled silently, shoulders slumping slightly. Now it's as if the strange feeling is lighter, yet worse in a way.

E-mailing the clues to Naegi, Shuichi then turned off the phone. Right now, thinking about the case seemed not so much ideal on trying to make the male feel better. Obviously brooding about it himself would make it worse.

Well I mean, I guess I could-

Knock knock!

The door knocked loudly, drowning Shuichi's thoughts. He got up groggily and made his way to the door.

With the amount of knocks, it has to be-

His thoughts were cut off as he twisted the knob and greeted the person.

"Hey short stack." Shuichi said, smirking at the person while leaning on the door frame, clearly looking down at him.

"Screw you Shuichi," he responded, "You're older than me, it's no fair."

"You're fault you're shorter than the average height, Nagisa." Shuichi ruffled Nagisa's light blue hair, brushing against the strands that stood up unnaturally, looking somewhat like a cat's ears.

The boy flinched slightly at the touch, "Hey! Don't just do that, we both know that part of my hair is sensitive..." Tip-toeing to reach it, Nagisa flicked a strand of Shuichi's hair that defied gravity, "Just like that damn ahoge of yours."

Though looking a little disturbed by it, Shuichi kept the smirk on his lips, "I guess that's what we as brothers have in common."

And it was true. Though it may not seem like it, Nagisa and Shuichi are brothers, Shuichi being older of course. Because of their opposite personalities (Shuichi being extremely laid-back and Nagisa's uptightness) and lack of looking like they were actually related, people wouldn't guess that.

Despite how different they are and how much they bicker, the two are actually really close. Having parents that would... force their own child to the brink of death and only having each other to rely on really does wonders to your sibling relationship.

But that's a story for another time. To sum it up, they're really ride or die brothers.

Shuichi laid his eyes on the grocery bag the other had in his hand, "That's for me isn't it?"

The teen scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Of course. Lord knows you can't take care of yourself. And you don't go out, ever. So like hell you'll buy your own groceries."

"You're such a caring baby brotherrr~."

"Sh-Shut up!" Nagisa blushed out of embarrassment. Thank god no one else was around to see his weirdo brother, "I've been doing this for years, no need to tease me about it!"

Shuichi chuckled, "Sure, okay." he took a glance to the kitchen, then back at Nagisa, "Do you want a cup of tea or somethin'? I'm sure through all the mess that is my apartment I can make a decent one."

Nagisa exhaled audibly, "Why not."

-

Setting down a cup of green tea and a cup of coffee, Shuichi sat down on his couch, "How are the rest of the Warriors of Hope?"

A rather cheesy name, the Warriors of Hope. But that was what family is called for the two. When six traumatized kids are put in a group, trauma bonding is a really great way to strengthen friendship. And as a way to help each other, they formed 'the Warriors of Hope' with the intent to help anyone who needs it, even if it's only their own members.

Nagisa looked to the side, "Same as usual. Jataro drank paint water mistaking it for coffee and Masaru accidentally hit Mr. Kuwata's head with a soccer ball. They're a pain to deal with..."

"Ahahah, I almost feel bad for you."

Nagisa gave a light glare, "Almost." Suddenly, a look flashed in his eyes, "Oh yeah, I almost forgot to tell you. Kotoko's getting a new role."

"Really?" Shuichi raised an eyebrow, "Well, tell her I said good luck."

Nagisa hummed and nodded, "Noted. And speaking of Kotoko," he pulled out a book from one of the bags, "She bought you the sequel of the book she recommended to you."

Taking the book in his hands, Shuichi began to examine it, "It has a sequel? The story seemed pretty finished..."

The other shrugged, "Apparently it's just some drabbles the author wrote after the events of the first book. 'Just for fun', they said." he took a sip from his beverage, "What's the first book about, anyway?"

"Oh, nothing. Just a story about a powerful mafia leader being bored with their competitors, when suddenly a just-as-powerful rival mafia comes along and they're like 'finally a worthy adversary' but as time goes on and each encounter takes place, the mafia leader's like 'heck. on second thought, maybe I don't want to defeat this other clan. I like our fights.' "

"And one day the antagonist of the book- I forgot what or who it was- forced the two clans in a situation of life and death. The leaders agreed to work together to get out. Yada yada, overcoming stuff, sprinkles of drama, and boom they're in love. They get out of said situation and went separate ways. But wait, the leaders bump into each other."

"Skip some fillers and unimportant stuff, the two confess their love, but the rivalry is technically not gone. And so they solve it by making a blood oath or something and just combined the two clans. The end."

Nagisa hummed at the long answer, "Essentially the Enemies to Lovers trope?"

The older shrugged once again, letting out an 'I don't know' hum, "I guess, at its core."

"I swear, Kotoko picks the clichéd romance books..."

"Well, she's a girl in her teens. Kinda surprised she doesn't go to fanfictions on the internet."

Nagisa sighed, "I suppose."

He brought the cup to his lips for the last time, gulping down the remainings of his tea, "Well, I'll be going now if you don't mind. The other three Warriors of Hope will fall into chaos if I'm not there to supervise them." He then stood up, the couch emitting a small creak, "So remember, take care of yourself, get enough sleep, and don't overwork."

Shuichi too got up and opened the door for Nagisa, "Well, I'm happy to tell you I'll do none of those."

With an eye roll, a scoff, and a bye, Nagisa left.

Shuichi exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment, and shutting the door.

Making his way to the bags of groceries the teen left, he spotted something on the ground. A piece of paper. Bending down to pick it up, his fingers grazed the rough surface of the paper. After flipping it over, he realized...

Wait, isn't this Phantom Thief's calling card? Why is it here?

Taking a closer look at it, the detective realized it wasn't exactly the real deal. A photocopy. Sure, the paper was ruffled too, but it was evident the marker was not drawn and instead printed on.

Even so, who got a hold of it to get it photocopied?

Despite Shuichi's eyes showing no reaction, there was no denial he felt a bit worried and anxious. There were times some people would break in to where the police keeps the clues, but they didn't hold much importance most of the time. The Phantom Thief case was an extremely serious one, Shuichi knew they'd keep it locked up safely.

I better report to Makoto-

His eyes read the poem once again. And then his eyes landed on another part of the paper. A small detail in the doodles that gave him a clue. A sense of déja vu rushed briefly in Shuichi's body. He knows he's heard about it, but where?

Racking his brain for answers, he pulls out his phone to dial Makoto's number once again.

I'll just call him for now.