Your father will never be able to catch the thief.

You have grown to accept this as fact, haven't you? It's not important anymore, since you know that if he ever does, if he ever puts the handcuffs on the Phantom Thief, unmasks him, and successfully locks him in prison, his life will cease to hold meaning. Ginzo has put aside all else to investigate, follow, and stake out Kaitou Kid; with the thief in jail, what would dad do with himself? All in all, it's true when they say organizing the holiday trip is much more enjoyable than the trip itself. Happiness is in anticipation.

We're very much the same, aren't we?

Not a passive girl, quite the contrary; impulsive, cheerful, energetic. You can take the metaphorical bull by the horns, catch your own metaphorical bullet, and stand your ground against everyone, in an entirely literal sense too. Pretty cool, huh?

And here you are, buying another baby blue cardigan, smiling at yourself: 'It'll look cool', not giving any thought to whatever else is going on. We've got it together.

Saguru stares at his pocket watch, clears his throat in a gentlemanly way: 'You've been staring at that same cardigan for two point seven minutes. Isn't that excessive?'

Stick out your tongue: 'What's excessive is you keeping time.' Smile and hum happily, walk to the cashier, pay for the new cardigan; we have everything down to a tee.

You feel comfortable around Saguru now, do you not?. At first his direct approach and chivalry was too out of the ordinary: his hair was never tousled and his clothes were always impeccable; even when he didn't sleep, chasing after the thief, he always looked sharp. Yes, he did mock your dad often-everyone did at times-but you know better: Saguru does it to help dad, encourage him in his own warped way. He's also chasing after the thief himself, and he may even understand your dad's feelings, why they can never catch him; they've caught everyone else after all.

He carries the bags, opens the doors, waits for you to sit down and pushes the chair in; he gets up from his seat when you do, shuts the door of the car, then walks around it to get in himself: he's a gentleman from a film, he's like James Bond; you like Sean Connery's films, don't you?

And when he leaves for London you don't miss him too much; and then, when he comes back, it's all the same as before: he opens the doors, waits for you to sit down, always compliments you, always agrees with you. He thinks you're beautiful.

It doesn't break your heart. It doesn't make you want to cry. He never forgets your birthdays, he's never late for an appointment with you, never makes you want to kill him, never makes you want to yell 'I hate you', never makes your heart jump, never surprises you.

But that's good. It's what works, isn't it? It works for us.

And when Saguru's not around, when he's on a case or in Europe, sometimes he shows up. Your heart jumps at the sight of a single rose appearing out of nowhere, held by a hand you've come to know so well, we've stared at it for long, holding many single roses. Your heart sinks when he leaves again, disappearing as fast as the rose appeared, and you hold on to that feeling like you do the rose. Enough surprises to fill a whole lifetime. You don't need Saguru to surprise or startle you; it works for you that he never does.

Every time it happens, the rose shows up in front of us, you take it, softly brushing the tips of your fingers against his, and look him in the eye while he smiles smugly, content with himself: he knows you could never reject that single rose, knows that he holds you in very much the same way, whereas you have none of him, except for the rose, and that leap your heart takes into emptiness whenever he appears and disappears once more.

Sitting in your room, your stuffed animals gazing at you from the desk where they rest, you remember him the way he looked that day: his arms over his head, a smug, condescending smile on his lips as you approached him, shyly, and told him Hakuba had asked you on a date once more and you'd accepted.

He laughed, clear, lovely: 'Keh, you're going out with that loser detective? That's good, didn't I tell you you were a perfect match?'

'You don't mind... then?'

'Why would I mind?' he snickered, 'you can do what you want, can't you? If you want to date that guy, then be my guest.'

He walked away, his hands still at the back of his head, his laughter still filling your ears. For a moment—a split second that you can't remember whether it actually happened or if it was a thought you added while revisiting the scene—you thought you had lost him.

But you'll never lose him. He shows up, hands you the rose, and disappears. Perhaps he wakes next to someone else, perhaps there is someone he opens the doors for, someone he arrives on time for, someone who doesn't yell 'I hate you' or 'I'll kill you'; someone who doesn't threaten him with a mop, who isn't clumsy and childish, someone he'd never call a boy in disguise, never lift the skirt of, someone unlike you.

But you'll never lose him.

You could lose Saguru. If he tires of you, if you tire of him, there will be a fight and he'll leave or you'll leave. When your paths cross again in the future you'll both nod, the moments between you only a distant memory, you'll ask how he's doing, he'll ask you back, and then we'll carry on. But not with Kaito. You'll never lose him. He will always appear, wherever you are, a hand holding out a single red rose, just for you.

A white pigeon pecks at your window. Open, let the pigeon in. Sometimes they leap out of his jacket, like his dad's jacket, isn't it similar? They both made you smile. Magic is so cool. He has always liked magic, we started liking it because of this. He made you happy, understood, held out the rose for you. No longer alone. You pet the dove, it's small, beautiful and it leaves just moments after as you watch it fly away.

Just like your father and the thief, you cannot catch him: doing so would mean to lose him. Maybe it's just our fears, huh? Maybe it wouldn't have to be that way but lovers leave, wives, husbands, couples, they leave sometimes, most times. The rose, though, it will always be there as long as you don't catch him. The thief will bring your father's life meaning as long as he doesn't catch him.