The Phantom Thief - Snowrabbit (reading like a writer TXT) 📗

it fit the blue hair. I didn’t even put on the mask as the hair made me look different enough that no one who didn’t actually know that it was a wig would recognize me as the Phantom. (I still wore the gloves though, leaving fingerprints wasn’t good)
But because I still had to be pretty careful it took about twice the time any normal person would have needed until I finally stood in front of Alans door. Not that I cared, I was here and that was the only thing that mattered. I didn’t bother ringing the doorbell - maybe because I thought that he might not even open the door if he knew I was there - but instead opened the door my way, just like last time, after I made sure no one was looking.
I went in and closed the door silently behind me, before stopping shortly to listen if Alan had a visitor (apart from me). But the apartment was silent, except for a quiet clicking sound from the living room. If I remembered right there was a computer in it, so it wasn’t that hard to find out what he was probably doing. As silent as possible, I went to the living room - just stopping shortly at the kitchen as I saw that my blue roses still were intact. Nice! - to take a look inside. And I had been right, he really sat in front of the computer, typing something. I snuck up to him and looked over his shoulder.
Wow... he was writing? I mean, not just chatting or stuff like that, but it looked like some kind of story.
“You are a hobby novelist?”, I asked, surprised, completely forgetting that until now he hadn’t known I was here. His reaction was just like that. He jumped so high he nearly fell out of his chair before turning to me. And I really had to bite my tongue to not start laughing at the face he made, but I didn’t want to make myself even more unpopular with him than I already was.
“Sorry, I’ll knock the next time.”, I said, smiling apologetically, but at the same time I had the feeling that that wasn’t the only problem he had right now.
“What the hell? You really came? I thought that was a joke, no, I hoped

it was a joke. What do you want?”, he asked, still looking pretty shocked.
I just shook my head. “Now we’re at the beginning again. I told you I’ll visit you and here I am, doing just that. I don’t want anything in particular from you, so just lay back and relax, okay?”
Alan didn’t answer (again) - sometimes I got the feeling that I was the only one talking when we met, except for him asking me something or telling me that he’d catch me of course - so I just went on, trying to get him to talk. “Anyway, did you go to the police about the kidnapping?” He slowly nodded. Okay, that was some

form of communication at least. “Good... I take they’ll go to jail for a while?”
“Well... the court case will be soon, but they are in pre-trial custody with good chances for jail, yes. The police found a voice recorder with a plea of guilty from them on it, so it was easy. I don’t suppose you have something to do with it?”
Aah, so he could

talk about something else. Even though he ended with a question again.
“Well, of course I have, I told you they have evidence. But whatever, I’m glad that these guys don’t run around anymore but I didn’t want to talk about them. Let’s do something else!”
My opponent looked at me blankly. “Tell me one reason I should do anything with you except throwing you to jail where you belong just as these kidnappers.”
I furrowed my eyebrows as I answered. “Well, first I would appreciate if you don’t lump me together with them and second, I saved you from them. Can’t you just give it a try? I mean, it won’t hurt you to try and have fun for once, will it? And I already told you, you can try to catch me all you want when I try to steal something again, okay?”
I could practically see him thinking about it, balancing the different reasons. But I knew what the conclusion was he would come to, even if he himself might still be thinking. Because I wouldn’t give up annoying him until he’d finally give in. So at least he let out an irritated breath.
“Fine. Okay. Visit me or whatever. But I don’t see how you could help me having fun, because I do have my ways for having fun without needing anyone like you, so don’t bother.”
I smiled, actually happy that he gave in, even though I knew that it would need quite a bit of work to get him to not despise me as much as he probably did now. But I had a pretty good idea how to do that. Or at least, how to start.
“Hungry?”, I asked, as it was about time to eat dinner. He shook his head, but his stomach rumbled right afterwards. Very authentic. “Alright, let’s make dinner!”, I said and before Alan could protest or anything I grabbed his hand and pulled him up from the chair. Without letting go, I dragged him into his kitchen, ignoring the following grumbling about what I thought I was doing.
Instead, I opened the fridge to see what he had. And I was pretty flabbergasted as I found it nearly empty.
“Hey, what do you normally eat in the evening?”, I asked the policeman, confused.
He just shrugged. “Nothing much. A slice of bread, a bit cheese or something like that. I neither have the time nor the desire to prepare big meals.”
I stared at him. “So you never eat warm meals for dinner? I have

to change that! And hey, you have eggs, so I already have an idea...” I started to look through various cupboards, searching for flour, milk, butter and whatever he had apart from that, once again tuning out his protests.
After I had found everything I started measuring and mixing all that stuff together, watching Alans increasingly confused expression out of the corner of my eye.
“You can cook?”, he asked, sounding surprised and a bit suspicious. I grinned. “Yep. And pretty good if I dare say, so don’t worry, it definitely won’t kill you.”
He still didn’t look convinced, but I didn’t care, concentrating on my preparations instead.

It didn’t take long before I was finished, spontaneously having made pancakes, because I myself simply loved

them and there weren’t many opportunities where you couldn’t eat them. Alan still looked distrustful though. But oh well he was hungry and I had food, he’d eat sooner or later. I set the small table in his kitchen and gave him and me each some of the pancakes before I took a seat and motioned him to do the same. “Enjoy your meal!”
Reluctantly, he sat down, but even though I started eating he didn’t even touch his food. I rolled my eyes. “We both know that you’re hungry, so ignore your pride for once and eat.”
I cut a bit from my pancakes and waited for his protest, to push the stuff in his mouth just as he opened it. Which seemed to take him completely off guard, as he just blinked surprised, before chewing and swallowing the food, like a reflex.
“So? It’s not that bad, right?”, I said, smiling. Not that I expected an answer.
And really, he stayed silent, but at least he began eating so I was content. I mean, it’s always said that even the biggest things start with small steps, right? And it looked like my plan to make Alan like me at least a bit was a pretty big thing. But I was stubborn, I’d get what I wanted in the end for sure.


Chapter nine (Yuri)

The next time I visited Alan, he was in a better mood. I had no idea why, maybe he had captured a criminal? But I was glad, because like that he wasn’t as quiet and grumpy as before. Quite the contrary, he even agreed as I suggested a game of twenty questions. I mean, it wasn’t easy to get him to talk, so something like that, where we could ask each other something in turns, one question at a time, was really a success. And of course, I inwardly hoped that it would help my goal of him starting to like me if he got to know me first.
So we sat in his living room, facing each other, in silence.
Great.
I motioned Alan to start, because I had no idea what to ask as I didn’t want him to snap at me again or something like that.
But of course, Alan didn’t care about small details like that as he chose his question.
“Why do you steal?”
I bit my lip as I thought how to answer. I had to be honest, as I had suggested the game and that was one of its rules, but the question itself wasn’t easy.
“Let’s say... it’s the fault of the society. Isn’t it always, though?”
Alan frowned. “Society? Why is that?”
I shook my head. “My question first. You write, right? So... what exactly do you write?” At least I had found an innocuous topic. I hoped. And I really was interested in it after I had seen him typing something the last time I visited him. It didn’t look like it was the most comfortable topic for him, but he still answered. “Mystery, mostly. Or detective stories. Experience certainly helps too, you know? And now tell me why you think it’s the fault of the society that you steal.”
“Fine, fine...”, I mumbled. Now, how to explain...? “Well, I’m sure you know how it is if you’re not exactly... liked by the people, don’t you? But the problem is... I’m not only disliked

by society, believe me. No one would be able to tell you, since it has been a while that anyone saw me as myself, but I’m... different. And you know how humans react if there is something they don’t understand. So I guess, that’s the main reason for... how do you call it? ‘Drifting into criminality’? Or simply ‘stealing’.”
I suppressed a sigh. I really didn’t like talking about my reasons and so on, but I had to try and make him understand at least somehow, right?
“Whatever, it’s my turn again now. Do you have finished stories? Anything published?”
The policeman still looked in thought before he shook his head. “No. Well, I do have finished stories, but nothing published. I’m the only one who reads my stories anyway.” I furrowed my brows. Why was that? I was sure the stories couldn’t be that bad...
“But, what do you mean with ‘different’? You say people dislike things they don’t understand, but it can’t be that bad, can it?”, he continued and I laughed dryly.
“It can. I can’t really explain how I am different, it’s nothing you normally see when you meet me. It’s not my appearance or even my personality. It’s nothing I can change, it’s just who I am. But you know, the ‘Sapphire Phantom’ is pretty popular with everyone, even though he steals. And if you research a bit, he only steals from rich people witch dark secrets. You should keep that in mind.”, I explained, smiling slightly. It seemed to get Alan to think, which wasn’t bad. But I still wanted to ask my next question.
“Hey, can I read your stories?” But the answer came immediately.