Chapter Text
Kiku dragged the bright red marker across another city, blotting out the name that had been scrawled on just days before. He stood back and stared at the map plastered across his office wall, identical lines and circles littered across the countries.
Nearly half of Europe was covered in red. The list of places where the Black Ghost had successfully stolen artworks and artifacts from museums just kept growing, and Detective Kiku Honda was beginning to grow frustrated. He was close to seeing red, himself.
This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t….
He shook his head at the memory, at the pleasure that came with remembering. The Black Ghost - no, Alfred - was oozing with charm and practically seduced his way out, leaving interpol blind. Kiku was only a bonus.
To be used and disposed of like some object -
Kiku capped the marker and nearly threw it back onto his desk. When he managed to track down the thief, he would be sure to have men posted at every corner of the station during interrogation. He would even prefer it if they skipped interrogation and just sent him straight off to prison. Everyone knew he was guilty, he was so close to confessing after they...finished the transaction.
The detective ran his hands down his face, scrubbing his eyes. Leaning against his cluttered desk, overflowing with papers and folders, he regarded the map once more. After London, the Ghost had moved onto Paris, then Madrid, Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Milan, Budapest… the list went on into Moscow. Every time, he managed a successful heist and flawless getaway, escaping from under interpol’s nose in the blink of an eye. His calling card, a silky black bandana with the word “Ghost” embroidered in white thread, would be left in the place of the object he swiped away.
Kiku kept each and every one, tossed into the bottom most drawer of his desk to be tested for DNA traces. They all came back clean each time.
He was so lost in his head and in the map before him that he didn’t notice his door being knocked on. He turned around as the door opened, face softening once he saw a familiar mop of sandy blond hair. “Arthur - I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you knocking.”
Arthur waved him off. “Any new leads?”
“Not quite. I haven’t been able to pin down a pattern… it seems like he’s just hopping from city to city at his own personal enjoyment.”
“So he’s sightseeing by day and robbing near-impenetrable museums by night.”
“It would seem so.” Kiku said, smiling a little. “He did seem the erratic type.”
The chief inspector came to lean against Kiku’s desk next to him, bringing a hand to his chin in thought. “You still haven’t told me much of what happened during your interrogation. It’s almost been six months.”
Kiku paled, standing from his desk. “It was - It was frustrating. I told you, I couldn’t get much out of him besides useless information like bits of his childhood and where he grew up. Before he was ready to give me real information, someone came by and picked him up.”
“Which we’ve identified as not one of our own.”
“Right. He has help. In fact, he received a call when I cornered him in the alley. They must be the same person.”
Arthur considered this, eyes on the map in front of them. Kiku regarded the man, crossing his arms over his chest. He was obviously thinking of something. “What do you think? Where would he go next?”
“I think,” he said, “you need a break.”
“Excuse me?”
Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, smoothing out his frizzy hair. “Look, Honda - Kiku, you’ve been at this case since before he was in our custody. I and the rest of interpol admire your drive, but… it’s okay to step back for a moment.”
Kiku opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. He uncrossed his arms, sighing. “You may be right. I just can’t help but feel like I played some small part in his escape.”
“You didn’t know. Don’t blame yourself.”
Half of it was guilt, yes, but the other half was resentment towards the thief for seducing him with empty promises. But there was no way Kiku could say that to his superior. “I suppose you’re right.”
Arthur stood from the desk, walking towards the map and Kiku. “Why don’t you have a drink with me? It’ll be my treat.”
The offer was tempting, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or the person inviting him. Nevertheless, he found himself nodding. “That would be nice. I trust you’ll handle your liquor better this time?”
There was a fondness in his voice that made the blond flush. “Y-Yes, actually, and that was just one time.”
“Of course. I have a few things to finish up here - I’ll drop by your office once I’m ready.”
Kiku watched him go before turning back towards the map, marker in hand. He needed to come up with the next possible destination in order to trap the Ghost, but there was no telling which city he might venture to next. Judging from his previous heists, he targets popular tourist destinations. Which was straight forward enough, except for the fact that his trips were so unpredictable, jumping from Vienna to Moscow in only a week’s time.
The man tapped the marker against his lips, eyes on the question mark next to Russia’s capital. He began to draw a line from Russia further east. Was the Ghost going to stop at Russia, or would he continue even further south into China? That would be out of Interpol’s and Kiku’s grasp. The thought made his blood boil.
He stopped once he reached Beijing, circling the city name. He added a question mark for good measure.
A shiver ran down his spine, and he glanced towards the window. Kiku quirked an eyebrow; he hadn’t opened it due to the rain that evening. At least, he didn’t remember doing so.
He shut the window regardless, running a hand through his hair. Maybe Arthur was right, he needed a break -
“You should really lock your windows, sweetheart. No telling who could sneak in.”
Kiku’s stomach dropped while his heart skipped a beat. Alfred F. Jones sat leaned back in the plush seat behind his desk, feet kicked up over the countless papers scattered across it.
Kiku’s hand immediately went to his side, but he had taken off his holster when he came into his office. Unarmed and caught unawares by the very man who had plagued his thoughts for the past six months.
Alfred tsk ’ed, stretching his arms up and over his head as he leaned further back in Kiku’s chair. “No weapon against a crook like me… You were just waiting for somethin’ like this to happen, weren’t ya?”
That couldn’t be farther from the truth - at least, Kiku told himself so - but the detective wasn’t about to actually entertain this thief by denying it. His eyes darted from his office door back to the blond, his voice miraculously calm. “I could say the same for you, Mr. Jones. I didn’t think you would even remember me.”
“Oh, I remember you , alright,” He said, grinning wickedly. Kiku felt his face grow warm. “I remember lots about you. In fact, I couldn’t get you outta my head. And…”
He reached down into the bottom drawer, pulling it wide open and tossing a black bandana onto Kiku’s desk. “...I reckoned I wasn’t the only one with a crush.”
“Those aren’t -”
“Oh, they aren’t? Then please explain what they are, then, Mister Honda.”
Kiku swiped the bandana from the desk, shoving it in his back pocket indignantly. “They’re evidence. That’s all.”
“‘Evidence’. You had about… fifteen pieces of evidence and still couldn’t find me.”
Alfred was just as infuriating as he remembered, and Kiku was finding it very hard to control himself. The urge to grab the man’s collar and throw him onto his desk was growing harder to ignore, as well as the urge to take his stupid, aggravating face and kiss -
He stopped that train before it crashed. That wasn’t important.
“How did you find me?” Kiku asked.
The thief grinned. “A magician never reveals his secrets. And you weren’t too hard to track. Only one Mister Kiku Honda in Interpol. Why, you worried I wouldn’t be able to find you again?”
Don’t answer, Kiku told himself, knowing that Alfred was trying to get him worked up - which was something that he was very good at.
The detective walked towards the man, planting his palms on his desk. Alfred only looked up towards him, a glint in his eye and a smile stretched across his lips. Kiku wanted to punch it off. “Why are you here?”
“Still as straightforward as I remember. Thought you’d learn to relax a bit after our -”
“Alfred.”
The thief frowned, leaning onto one of his palms while the other drummed his fingers on the desk. They were almost too close to touching Kiku’s hand. “Fine. I needed intel on a gig and figured you’d have that kinda info stashed away somewhere. When I dropped by, I didn’t think you’d be in your office this late.”
Kiku quirked an eyebrow. “Then why not wait until I left?”
Alfred didn’t say anything for a moment, glancing down to their almost-touching fingers and back up to Kiku’s eyes. “Who was that other guy in here with you?”
“Excuse me?”
“That guy with the stupid lookin’ hair. He was lookin’ at you like - and then smilin’ like - I dunno, it was just annoying.”
Kiku stood to his full height, blinking. “You… were watching Arthur and I.”
Alfred scoffed, looking off to the side. “Well, I couldn’t go bursting in here while you were with some other cop, now could I? I’d get put away for real.”
“You were jealous.” Kiku nearly laughed, were it not for the way Alfred’s eyebrows were knit together in what looked to be genuine irritation. No one’s ever been - jealous over Kiku before. There was never a reason for anyone to be, he hardly let himself get involved with people in that way. “Mr. Jones, Arthur and I are just colleagues. And with all due respect… we,” he pointed from himself to Alfred, “will never be anything more. You’re a petty thief. I’m a detective.”
“Oh, but doesn’t that make this ‘relationship’ of ours a little more spicy?” Alfred stood from the desk, movements slow as he rounded and leaned against it.
Kiku stood his ground, just a foot away from him. It was the closest they’ve been all evening - and Kiku would be lying if he said he didn’t want to get just a tiny bit closer. “No, it doesn’t. There-There isn’t even a relationship to begin with.”
“So this, ” Alfred mimicked the detective by pointing between them, “wasn’t on your pretty little mind for the past six months.”
He’d been counting the months since they met. Kiku’s heart pounded against his chest harder. “The only thing that’s been on my mind is capturing and arresting you.”
“If you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask.”
“How did you escape last time? Who helped you?”
The blond tipped his head to the side, tapping his fingers along the edge of the desk. “Doesn’t really matter now, right? They’re not here. Actually, kinda ditched me after bustin’ me out. You could arrest me right now or do anything you want with me. I’m practically helpless right now.”
Kiku didn’t like the way Alfred’s voice dipped lower, and certainly didn’t like the way his own stomach flip flopped over the thief’s suggestive words. His hands trembled at this sides, balling into fists to keep from outright shaking.
This could be his chance. He could cuff Alfred right now and run out the door, announcing to anyone and everyone in the building that the Black Ghost was finally caught once again - and this time, his interrogation would go differently. They wouldn’t be alone, he and Ludwig would get the answers straight from the thief’s mouth and the stolen artworks would be returned, it would be so easy -
And yet.
Kiku breathed in deep, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows as he walked towards his office door. Alfred waited with baited breath, ready to bolt out of the window as soon as possible if the detective did decide to cry wolf, but there was nothing but the sound of a lock clicking into place.
He didn’t have time to react. Kiku was back on him - literally on him, lips pushing against his in what Alfred could only describe as hungrily - almost too quickly after the door was locked. He was suddenly lifted onto the desk, being pushed further back and knocking over a cup full of pens and a stack of papers.
Alfred’s mind was reeling from the sudden change in the detective’s demeanor, his icy attitude melted away as hands gripped his hips to pull him even closer. It was as if Kiku couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t control himself now that the circumstances were different and Alfred was actually right here in front of him. Better than that, he was - just as Alfred said moments before - helpless against the detective.
Not that the thief was complaining in the slightest. A hot chill ran down his spine when Kiku tore himself away from his lips, instead kissing along his jawline down towards his neck. Alfred tipped his head back, leaning further against the desk with a moan, shutting his eyes for just a moment.
A moment was all Kiku needed. He pulled the black bandana out of his back pocket carefully, pushing Alfred’s hands back behind him long enough to tie a secure knot around his wrists all while keeping him distracted with sickly sweet kisses.
By the time he pulled away, there was a dark red spot on the side of Alfred’s neck. Kiku took a step back, admiring his handiwork as the man realized what he had done.
“Very - Very funny, sheriff,” Alfred breathed, wriggling his wrists. “Didn’t have cuffs on ya this time, huh?”
“Would you have preferred handcuffs instead? I get the feeling you like it rough.” Kiku managed a smirk, despite the brilliant flush across his face and racing heart. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t turn you in right now. Arthur is just a few rooms away.”
“He’d just love to come runnin’ to you, wouldn’t he?” Alfred scoffed under his breath. “Are you into bossin’ around poor bastards like that or somethin’?”
“You were rather bossy during our interrogation, if I recall correctly.”
“Let me outta this stupid bandana and I’ll show you how bossy I can get -”
A soft knock interrupted their bickering, startling both of them into silence. The detective was quick, motioning for Alfred to hide beneath his desk before he unlocked the door. Once the thief had scrambled past his chair and under the desk, Kiku opened his door only to find a concerned Arthur.
Kiku cleared his throat, trying to calm his nerves. “Arthur, I - I must have kept you waiting, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s alright,” The blond said a bit too quickly. He tried for a smile, “I mean - I know you’re invested in this case. We can always push drinks for another night.”
There was a pang of guilt in Kiku’s chest, and he chanced what he hoped was a casual glance towards his desk. He was rather busy at the moment, but a small part of him was also looking forward to spending time with Arthur.
Arthur, who had always taken the time to talk to Kiku, Arthur with the knitted eyebrows and semi-permanent frown, Arthur with the faint freckles on his nose.
Kiku tapped his fingers against the door frame. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll wrap up by then and meet you at the pub you invited me to a few months ago.”
Arthur couldn’t help the small smile that spread over his lips, remembering the place - and night - well. With a nod, he set off towards his own office, leaving Kiku alone with the thief hiding in his office once more.
“He can’t be your type, Honda,” Alfred said as he crawled out from the desk, hands still bound behind his back. “Trust me, you need someone like me -”
“I don’t need anyone,” Kiku said, cutting through his sentence. He took a step towards Alfred, eyes narrowed. “Especially not some criminal like yourself.”
The intensity of his stare excited Alfred, who swallowed hard. Shifting his eyes from the window to the detective, he dared to ask, “Then-Then what’re you still doing with a criminal like me in your office?”
“You heard me. Twenty minutes.” Alfred hadn’t realized Kiku was walking towards him until his back hit the wall, his gaze consuming and voice demanding. Hands were suddenly fisted into the fabric of his shirt, pushing him roughly into the wall. Slight pain blossomed in the back of his head. “I get to do whatever I want with you. Anything. Then, you will give me the locations to the stolen artworks.”
Despite the wolfish glint in Kiku’s eyes, despite the strength behind his grip, despite everything, Alfred still managed to grin crookedly and ask, “And if I refuse?”
Kiku matched his grin. “You won’t. I know you could have untied yourself long ago. You were waiting for something like this to happen, Mr. Jones. You just weren’t prepared to be the one spreading his legs.”
The image - the mere confirmation that one of them was going to be getting fucked sent multiple shivers down the thief’s spine, his grin melting into a nervous chuckle under Kiku’s hot stare. The detective was, unsurprisingly, right; Alfred could have easily undid the bandana minutes ago.
The cat had caught the mouse in this game was now enjoying toying with it.
Alfred didn’t have time to agree or even nod before Kiku was on his lips again with the same hunger and aggression, his hands moving to cup the sides of his face. Struggling against his bonds, he could only return the kiss, trying to match the desperation and thirst with his tongue and lips.
Kiku’s hands moved from his face down to his chest, trailing down until cold fingers palmed the growing warmth in his jeans. Alfred’s breath hitched, opening his mouth long enough for Kiku to bite down on his bottom lip hard.
Alfred almost pulled away, but Kiku kept his hips in place with a tight grip, growling under his breath. “You were less than gentle with me, if I remember correctly.”
The blond licked his lips, tasting copper. “And you weren’t complaining, if I’m rememberin’ right.”
Kiku grabbed him by his shirt, practically throwing him against his desk. Alfred caught himself just before he bit down on his own tongue, barely managing to keep his balance as he was bent over the detective’s desk. Kiku’s hands weren’t immediately on him; there was an open and close of a drawer, then another one.
Glasses askew and hair in his eyes, Alfred huffed. “Clock’s tickin’, detective. Or are you all talk and no -”
The end of his sentence ended in a yelp, his head suddenly yanked back by his hair. Black cloth was shoved between his teeth and over his eyes, his glasses pushed off of his face and set to the side.
“You know, I really ought to thank you,” Kiku said, his voice suddenly right next to Alfred’s ear and dangerously sweet, “for the bandanas. I figured they would be of use to me eventually. I can’t have you making too much noise.”
Alfred’s heart raced, butterflies going wild against his ribcage. He couldn’t see, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, left completely defenseless and helpless - that wonderful word came back to haunt him again - against a vengeful detective.
He had something witty to say, as he always did, but could only form half words and sentences through the cloth tied around his head. He could feel Kiku’s hands on his back, tracing patterns until they reached the hem of his shirt, could hear the way his own jeans rubbed against the edge of the desk. Cold fingertips pulled his shirt up slightly, just enough to feel the skin underneath and mark the placement of each freckle.
Alfred shivered when those same hands suddenly moved towards his hips, starting from the back and towards the front of his belt, a feather-light touch that absolutely drove Alfred up a wall. Finally, the clink of a buckle being undone, that icy feeling spreading into his jeans, dipping into his briefs. He wasn’t sure how Kiku’s hands stayed so cold, but they were the things he could focus on as they moved further down, finally pushing his jeans out of the way.
A whine escaped his throat when Kiku took hold of his cock, cold meeting hot and hard. The man’s fingers were unbearably and impossibly soft, swiping at the bead of precum beginning to leak out of the head as they stroked the length.
Kiku’s voice was against Alfred’s ear again, low and murmuring, “If you make a mess of my desk, you’ll be cleaning it up yourself.” Another whine, and Alfred bucked against his hand. “Control yourself. I haven’t even gotten started.”
Oh. Alfred bit down on the bandana between his teeth to keep from outright moaning, raising his hips higher when Kiku’s hands moved to his ass. He wriggled against his binds, pressing back onto Kiku’s hips. Hurry up.
A laugh - breathless and surprising to hear from the uptight detective - rang in Alfred’s ears, nearly distracting him from his briefs being pulled down. Kiku’s hands were on him in an instant, tracing more circles that sent sparks running up the blonde’s spine, dipping lower and lower until he was spread apart. A finger lightly circled his hole, and Alfred’s anxiety spiked.
He could hear the smile in Kiku’s voice as the finger was pulled away. “You’ll be glad to know that I’m prepared this time around.”
A bottle was popped open, then shut, and that same finger came back sticky and wet. Part of Alfred wanted to know why he kept a bottle of lube in his office desk, and whether it had anything to do with that other cop that had his eyes all over him, but quickly forgot about it once Kiku pushed into him.
His breath hitched, and he bit down on the bandana harder. He stopped making an effort to quiet himself – even if the only sounds he could make were gasps and half choked moans muffled by the cloth – knowing it would only fuel Kiku to keep going. Which is exactly what he wanted by that point, as another finger, then another, were added. He knew their twenty-minute limit was ticking away, and once this was over and done with, Kiku would be in the arms of some gruffy, sleazy cop.
But Alfred didn’t want to think about that now. He wanted to focus and zero in on the wet noises coming from behind him, on the way Kiku’s fingertips continued to trace light patterns on his backside while fingerfucking him so damn good.
There was a moment where Alfred wasn’t sure he would be able to last any longer, when he legs nearly gave out and his jaw ached from biting down so hard – but of course, that was when Kiku decided he had had enough.
Tears stung at Alfred’s eyes, dampening the cloth as he caught his breath for a moment. Kiku’s fingers had left him loose and quivering, teetering painfully on the edge of climax. He lay slumped against the desk, head lolling to rest his cheek against the desk underneath him.
“You can’t seriously be tired just from that, Mr. Jones.” Kiku’s voice sounded far away, but Alfred knew he was still right behind him. Cold hands took hold of his hips, bringing his ass to rest against something hard and hot. Alfred moaned, despite himself, wriggling his hips against Kiku’s cock.
“Besides,” the detective said, dipping down towards Alfred’s ear to nip at the shell, “we only have eleven minutes left.”
Kiku pressed himself into Alfred - finally, finally, finally - and Alfred saw stars behind his eyelids. There was no time for going slow, for caresses and shy moans, there was only time for Kiku to slam inside of him and make him cry out against the cloth in his mouth. The thief curled his fingers into tight fists against his back, nails pressing into his palms as the desk rattled under them from Kiku’s thrusts.
In the midst of Alfred’s pleasure haze, he picked up on Kiku’s rough breathing and tightening grip, the subtle desperation beginning to leak into his cool demeanor at the reminder of a time limit. Eleven minutes and Alfred would be set free - or in the off chance that Detective Honda was using him, he would be locked behind bars for good, this time. The thought scared him, but not as much as never seeing Kiku again, of never being able to touch him or tease him again.
Kiku cursed under his breath, reaching to undo the knot that tied the bandana around Alfred’s mouth with clumsy, eager fingers. The first thing that left the blonde’s lips was a moan, followed by a breathy, “Someone - Someone will hear, yeah? That ain’t -”
“I don’t care,” Kiku said, pulling him upright and flush against his own body, “I want to hear you.”
The statement sent shivers down Alfred’s spine, and while he couldn’t see Kiku’s face, he could tell he was getting close by the way he spoke and the near erratic timing of his thrusts. He would give the detective exactly what he wanted, pressing his hips back to match his thrusts with a newfound zeal.
Their time was running short, and suddenly, he felt himself getting pulled back to sit on Kiku’s lap in what he guessed was his desk chair. The bandana tied around his wrists was removed to be replaced by Kiku’s hands taking hold of his wrists, bringing Alfred down to bounce on his cock.
“Don’t tell me -” Alfred was surprised he even had the energy left to tease him, even though his voice was wrecked and wavering, “Don’t tell me you’ve gone - ah - and fallen for me, Honda.”
Kiku huffed out a laugh, licking his lips. As Alfred kept bouncing against his lap, he reached down and gripped the blonde’s aching cock, feeling it twitch at the sudden contact. “Shouldn’t I be you asking that?”
Alfred gasped, pausing slightly as Kiku began to pump and stroke his dick. Kiku snapped his hips against him, reminding him of the time limit. “Six minutes.”
“I’m so close,” the thief groaned, resting his free hand against the desk. “God, Kiku -”
The detective didn’t answer except for a low moan, right there with Alfred as he could feel the delicious pressure building up in his lower abdomen, could feel the sparks beginning to go off in his mind. Five minutes left, then four, then three -
Alfred had to stop himself from outright screaming when the overwhelming pleasure came in waves. Kiku’s thrusts slowed down to a stop as he came soon after, hot flashes of white bursting behind his eyelids screwed shut.
The high never lasted long enough, and they both shared the sentiment as they caught their breaths. Alfred eventually picked himself up, shivering as he pulled away from Kiku and reached for the box of tissues perched on the right hand corner of the desk.
He tossed the bandana that was tied around his wrists towards Kiku, who barely managed to catch it. “You’re sweaty. Pretty sure you can’t show up to a date lookin’ like you just fucked some two-bit thief.”
Kiku chuckled, still breathless and still slumped against his desk chair. He wiped the cloth above his brow and across his forehead before redoing the zipper and buttons to his pants. “I hardly consider anything with Arthur a date. Like you said, he isn’t my type.”
“He looks like he’s into some gross stuff.” Alfred leaned back against the desk, rebuckling his belt. “I bet you all the money in my wallet he’s into feet.”
The man laughed - a loud and radiant sound that caught Alfred completely off-guard - and tossed the bandana back towards him. “I wouldn’t be surprised; he’d said some interesting things when he was drunk. But I’d rather you wager all of the artwork you’ve stolen.”
“Back to business, huh?”
“I’m still a detective. You’re still a thief.”
“Forbidden love is always the best kind, darlin’.”
“We aren’t in love.” Kiku said, standing from his chair to look up towards Alfred.
The blonde took his hand, pulling him close enough to kiss him. “Then why are we so obsessed with each other?”
The detective didn’t answer, and didn’t pull away when Alfred pressed his lips against his own. Shy and hesitant, almost as if asking are you okay with this, with me? to which Kiku could only reply with a timid tilt of his head as he squeezed Alfred’s hand - I think I am.
Alfred took hold of both of Kiku’s hands when he pulled away, face suddenly the most serious Kiku had seen him. “You really wanna know where I stashed those art pieces?”
The detective wasn’t quite sure how to answer, settling for a reluctant, “Um… Yes?”
Alfred smiled. “One condition.”
Arthur Kirkland checked his wrist watch, then his phone’s watch. Exactly twenty minutes had passed since Kiku had last spoken to him, which meant it was time to drop by his office to pick him up. He stood outside the door, re-reading the last name printed across the gaussian glass - “Honda”. Should he wait a few minutes so as not to look so desperate? Which he wasn’t, of course, he certainly had not been working up the courage to ask Detective Honda out for a drink for weeks now. Or months. A year, tops.
The man ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. Perhaps walking in a minute or two late would be best. He could wait a minute. Arthur would wait hours for Kiku. Or any other of the members of the precinct.
Once two agonizing minutes had passed by, he straightened himself, smoothed any wrinkles in his dress shirt and coat before knocking lightly against the wooden door.
No answer. No faint “come in” or “yes?” from the detective like he usually did. Perhaps he had fallen asleep?
Hesitant, the man pushed the door open, half hoping to see Kiku asleep on his desk with a map underneath his arms, but found the room empty.
The window was the only thing left wide open, blinds drawn and lightly tapping against the side of the wall from the breeze flowing in. Kiku’s desk was a mess, with papers pushed and scattered across it and spilling onto the floor, along with several pens and pencils.
Arthur’s heart began to race.
Immediately going towards the desk, he found the bottom drawer left wide open, revealing all of the black bandanas Kiku had kept from various crime scenes. One was left neatly on top of the scattered papers on his desk, the words “Black Ghost” embroidered along the bottom left in white.
The Ghost must have paid a visit.
And, as Arthur looked up towards the map pinned against the far most wall where Kiku had been taking notes earlier, he managed to get away with more than an art piece this time.
Scrawled in the middle of the map, in bright red letters -
“Sorry about that drink!”