A/N: Welcome back! Thank you all for following and reviewing, and I really hope I'm living up to your expectations here *sweats nervously*
Actually, there's something about the story that I want to tell you now: Every odd numbered chapter will be in the present, while the even numbered ones will play in the past and explain how in the hell we even get to where we are now. So yeah, just wanted to get that out of the way so no one gets confused.
I'll let you read now.
Chapter 1: Ghost
It's funny, how fast you can lose yourself. One day, you know exactly who you are and then, just like that, you're someone else. Don't recognize yourself anymore. It's funny and sad.
Aren't there some parts of us that are just so hard-wired that they'll stay, no matter what else changes? Or can we really change so completely that we might as well be a different person?
I don't know who I am anymore, or what's left of who I was before.
- Excerpt from Kuroba Kaito's journals
I put on the suit. Okay, that's a fancy word for something that's not actually a suit. It's really just a shirt, sweat pants and gloves. All in black. How it looks isn't exactly of the essence. As long as it allows me to move freely, anything works. Still, I'm so used to the flashy KID regalia that these casual clothes feel weird. Wrong.
Dad's white suit has been hanging in the workroom for a while now.
Every now and then, they tell me to do a KID heist, to throw off suspicion. Keep the task force busy and focused on one target. Other than that though, the suit – and a lot of other things – are left to collect dust.
I miss being KID. It was dangerous, but, while not exactly the pinnacle of morality, it wasn't this.
As KID, sometimes I had to be careful not to get shot. Now I have to be careful not to shoot somebody.
Everything went from white to black, just like that. With this one choice I made. I can confidently say that this choice will eventually ruin my life – if it hasn't already.
I check my stuffed backpack. Another thing about being KID that I miss – all those hidden pockets. Much more convenient than carrying around a bulky backpack. Maybe I should invest in a black KID suit.
Everything is in order, I have all the equipment I might need. Everything but one thing.
Picking up the gun is still hard. It gets easier every time and checking the safety is already routine. But it's a fight every time, to push back the images that this black monsterbrings to the surface. The things it can do, the things that have been done with it...I'm running away from it, and I know it.
But if I linger on those thoughts for just a moment too long, they'll pull me down and never let me go. Thoughts are dangerous.
I head out, to the appointed location two blocks away. The black car is already waiting and I get in without hesitation. There is no room for doubts here. The moment I leave my house, doubt and hesitation and fear have to stay inside, locked away. It's safer. That way they can't get me killed. And there's no doubt they would. That's about the only thing I have no doubts about.
My face is carved into an emotionless expression. The less they see of me, they less leverage they have. They have plenty anyway.
Falcon shoots me a sly look, while the three people in the back ignore me, just like I ignore them.
I don't have a code name yet, but that's supposed to change tonight. If I get this job done without a hitch.
Which is my specialty and why they wanted me. One of the reasons, anyway.
"Nervous?" he asks and turns the keys, setting the car into motion.
A silent shake of my head is the only answer he's going to get, and he seems to realize that too, because he grunts and focuses on the road. Good.
I don't need idle chit-chat.
Truth is, my nerves are a wreck. I am a wreck. They gave me three days to prepare. That's not a lot, but I'm not exactly in a position to complain.
Besides, from the looks of it, this is going to be an easy one, so three days of preparation should be enough. The thing is – no matter how easy a job looks, the stakes are too high for me to be calm.
The target is this rich, old guy. You know, the kind that lives in over-the-top mansions with a whole battalion of servants to carter to their every need. The kind that collects expensive things. Like paintings, statues .. or gems.
And it's exactly why this job makes me sick to my stomach, despite how easy it looks. One part of the target is a collection of gems. I can deal with that. The part where the old man is a target as well is the part I have a problem with.
But it's not like I have a say in anything. I get told what to do, and I do it. Whether or not I like it means nothing to them.
My only relieve is that I don't have to deal with the guy directly - but that doesn't do much to make me feel better.
I do the only thing I can do in these kind of situations and I focus only on my part of the job. There's no room for the old man.
My part is simple. In theory. I've learned over the past few years that even the best laid plans can go completely haywire. Get in, grab stuff, get out. Preferably without being seen or heard or smelt or touched. Be a ghost.
I can do that. It's just so different from the way I used to do things. When it was just me and a white suit. And a whole lot of gadgets, magic tricks and pink smoke.
And while these animals are often far more head-on than I'd like, they have no need for heists that call attention to them. They want to be unseen.
The car stops and three of us get out.
There's me, the nameless black ghost. And there are the animals. Tiger and Panther. Muscle and .. well, persuasion.
Falcon will stay in the car, ready to bring us out of here. So will Dolphin. He's the brains today, sitting in the safety of the car with his laptop, monitoring the situation. If anything goes against the plan, he'll be the first to notice.
He also disables the security cameras at the gate, allowing us to simply climb over it. The house is secluded enough that no one will be around to see us and it's by far the most convenient way to get onto the grounds. But walking around in the open like that puts me on edge, regardless of how improbable it is that anyone will notice.
We're making our way up to the house, following the long, winding driveway. Tall trees line both sides, providing us with shadows to melt with and covers to hide behind.
Not that we really need either. The man who lives here has no patrols or guards outside. In fact, he only has one man watching the camera feeds at night and that's it. He has a good security system, and he trusts it. He's not paranoid like some of the other targets we've hit. Too bad for him that Dolphin is excellent at disabling and tricking good security systems.
The minutes pass in silence, only broken by the quiet rustling when a soft breeze washes over the trees.
We reach the front door and this is where we part ways. I will go around the back, scale the wall and enter through a window. Directly into the room where he keeps his collection of jewels.
I know the layout of the mansion by heart.
For the last two days I took the place of one of his servants, allowing me to scout out every last corner.
The Cats, as I sometimes call them, will go through the front door, to seize their own target. But I don't think about that part.
With a silent nod, I turn away and move to the back of the house. There are cameras at every corner, easy enough to avoid if you know they're there. The feeds should be looped anyway, but you can never be too careful. And I know that Dolphin is focused on the Cats right now, so I'm not taking any unnecessary risks.
I scale the wall without using any equipment. The old brick wall provides plenty of holes to put my feet into and bricks that stick out just enough for my fingers to get a grip.
Once I reach my destination – third floor, fifth window from the right –, I perch on the windowsill, out of sight of the 360° camera that's embedded in the ceiling of the room. It's covering the whole room and I have to wait for Dolphin to disable it and loop the feed.
"Ghost in position." I whisper into the mic that's hidden in my collar. Ghost. I'm not sure who started calling me that, but it's my name now, at least until they decide that I'm worthy of a code name.
For a second, static erupts in my ear and I grimace. Same thing happens every damn time.
Then Dolphin's voice cuts through.
"All set, go in. Two minutes."
I don't wait another second. The window, that I didn't close properly when I left a few hours ago, slides open smoothly and I glide in, landing on the carpeted floor without a sound.
Knowing where every piece is makes it simple. I still have to pick the locks on the showcases, but technically, all I have to do is go around the room and collect everything. And the locks are easy to crack, I made sure of that.
A large, oval cut sapphire, a slightly smaller ruby and a necklace with a square emerald.
All of them potentially Pandora.
I have the sapphire and the ruby, but the necklace .. is not where it's supposed to be. Where it was just a few hours ago.
I know that it was right here, but as my gloved hands slide over the empty pedestal, something sick settles in my stomach. This can't be happening. It has to be here.
Then I hear it. Breathing. It's shallow and slow, barely audible, as if the person was trying to hide their presence.
My ear crackles. "One minute."
I spin around, trying to pin-point the source of the breathing. The window by the corner. I stalk closer, preparing myself or a fight. My hand clenches around the gun,
but I keep my finger away from the trigger.
He or she is hiding behind the curtain. It goes all the way to the floor and is thick and voluminous enough to hide even a grown man.
I take one steadying breath and rip the curtain aside, gun pointed at … air. Nothingness.
My eyes flicker down and there she is. A little girl, covering before me like I'm her worst nightmare.
I might very well be.
For one second, she stares at me, eyes wide open with terror. Then she looks away, sobs and immediately clamps a hand over her mouth, stifling the sound.
I let out a small sigh and lower the gun. Then I crouch down and hold out my other hand. The girl flinches and tries to back further away, but the wall stops her. There's nowhere to run and she's scared witless. Of me.
I used to make kids laugh. Not anymore, I guess.
"30 seconds. If you need more time, tell me now." Dolphin says through the earpiece. Damn it. I ignore him and focus on the girl.
I want to be nice to her, I really do. I want to find out what she's doing here, in the middle of the night no less, but I don't have time. All I can do is hope that she hasn't seen my face. I don't wear a mask and it's the one mistake that could cost me everything tonight.
But it's dark and she's scared. So scared actually, that she hasn't so much as glanced at me after that first second.
I pry the necklace out of her clammy hand. She doesn't resist and I'm glad, because I really don't want to hurt her.
"10 seconds. Ghost, what the hell are you doing? Get out of there."
I know I'm late. Normally, this would have taken me a minute, at most. Dolphin knows that. I have to come up with a story fast, because I absolutely can't tell them about the girl. They'll kill her.
Because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I can't let that happen, I'm not that far gone.
Yet.
I turn my back to her, flip the safety back on and put the gun in my waistband, and within seconds I'm out of the window and down on the grassy ground below. I have all the way back to the car to come up with an explanation.
I forgot where the necklace was. I know I screwed up. Won't happen again. Sorry?
Pathetic.
Whether or not they believe it. It's a pathetic lie, and if they buy it, it's a pathetic truth. This is the kind of mistake you do not make. But it's better than putting this girl's life in danger. She hasn't seen anything. I'm 98% sure.
I'm alone on the way back, but Tiger and Panther shouldn't be far behind. While their target is more likely to resist than mine, they're good at what they're doing. It sickens me to even think that, but it's true.
I push the thought away. They'll put him in the trunk, out of my sight. I don't need to think about him.
Memories flicker through my mind anyway. For two days, I catered to that man, fulfilled his every wish. And the worst part? He was nice. He was genuinely kind, even to his servants. He doesn't deserve this. And what about the girl? Is she related to him? A granddaughter maybe.
Or just a homeless girl that saw my open window and snuck in. I don't know. I don't need to know.
It really shouldn't bother me. The job is done, it's already in the past, my focus has to stay on the future. That's the only way to survive. The only way to stay sane.
I open the door on the passenger side and slide in. Turning around, I throw the jewels into Dolphin's lap.
"What the hell took you so long?" He snarls, not even looking up from his laptop . I don't like him. I don't like any of them.
"I messed up. Won't happen again." I say through clenched teeth, hoping that he won't prod further. He glances at me for barely a second before he focuses on the screen again, but I could see the skepticism written all over his face.
"Care to elaborate?"
A soundless sigh escapes me. Well, there goes hope.
I tell him my pathetic story.
You know what's good about being a good liar? You can tell people anything you want, and they'll believe it. You know what's bad about it? Eventually you lose sight of the truth. Everything becomes a lie. You become a lie.
He believes me, and while he assures me that the boss will hear of 'this', I at least have the knowledge that the little girl is safe. It's a small flicker of light in this vast sea of darkness that I got lost in.
It's something.
We have to wait two more minutes for the Cats to show up and I keep my eyes fixed on a dirt speck on the windshield when I see them coming. But I already saw the limp figure hanging over Tiger's shoulder.
For a moment, it seems so ridiculous. We get here and rob the house of jewels and a human and we basically walk around in plain sight and nobody will ever know.
Then I hear the sound of the trunk slamming shut and it snaps the ridiculousness clean in half.
They drop me off at the same location they picked me up at and I watch as the car speeds away without me. Knowing what's in the trunk. And what's going to happen to him.
I taste vomit in my mouth and swallow heavily. Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it...
I'm not sure how I even get home. My feet carry me on their own while I'm lost in my own mind.
I don't want to go home. There's nothing but silence and I don't like silence. There's nothing to distract me from the steady stream of memories, showing me what kind of person I have become.
You didn't hurt the girl, you kept her safe.
One against how many? Too many. I might have saved one life today, but I also helped destroy another one. They don't cancel each other out, it doesn't work like that.
I take my shoes off and make a straight beeline for the bathroom, throwing off my clothes on the way.
For an hour, I try to scrub off the invisible dirt. It never goes away, and yet I try to clean myself time and time again. Never learning.
It's basically routine by now.
I come home. I take a bath. I scrub and scrub and scrub, until my skin is red and raw and the realization hits, that the dirt that I'm trying to scrub off isn't there on my skin. It's on my soul.
Then I get out, dry myself off, get dressed. In clothes that don't reek of death and shattered lives. I make tea.
I take my tea and I sit on the roof until my mind is too tired to keep the memories flowing. Then I crawl into bed and sleep, sleep, sleep. As long as I can, until the nightmares hit.
Then I make more tea and sit on the roof again. Watch the sun rise.
And the cycle repeats. Day after day, week after week.
My name is Ghost. I'm a thief and I didn't kill today, but I'm still a murderer.
A/N: Uhu..yeah. I'm not commenting on that last one. Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts, especially on the "mission" stuff, because I've never really written anything like that. Anything you think I could have done better, just tell me. I want to learn :)