☆Chase Me, Shumai.☆

08 • Black and white

Shuichi stood at the foot of his apartment door, a white patch on the side of his pale face where he was hit by Kaito a couple of nights ago. It was holding healing cream against his face- which was forced onto him by Kaede. He wasn't sure if it did anything for bruises, really. But Kaede had insisted that he took it. Shuichi opened his apartment door, sucking in a rather chilly breath. He plopped his suitcase onto the ground, closing the door behind himself.

Instantly, he knew something wasn't... right.

Shuichi eyes scanned the room, catching nothing out of the ordinary. At first. His glance stopped at his bedroom door- the light was on, seeping through the cracks of the dark brown door. He quickly glided across the clean room, his pale sliding up to the door knob. Then- he hesitated. What is in there? Was someone still in there? What if it was a trap? Should he call Kirigiri? He shook his head. 'Stop being paranoid, Shuichi. You just forgot to turn off the lights.' He sucked in another breath, his hand softly shaking against his will. He knew he was lying to himself. He remembers turning off all the lights, and remembers Kaito not turning any lights on either. It was bright enough outside to move around the room. Shuichi pressed himself on, the door swinging open with a soft groan of agony. He threw himself back, as if someone fired a machine gun at him and missed every shot. No bomb exploded, nothing ran out wielding knifes and screaming in some foreign language. After building enough confidence, as if he was going into the black abyss trying to get a drink of water in the middle of the night, he creeped into his room. He straightened himself out, his glance flickering around the room. He turned off the light, as it was currently 1 in the afternoon. His glance moved around the room, past his desk, away from the plant, away from the bed and then back to the desk. Unknowingly, he began to move towards the desk settled in the far corner of the room. It all seemed to be untouched. The pencil had moved, which could have been because of the wind. That, isn't possible because as he glanced towards the still and silent window, it was shut. He glanced down at the desk, confusion covering his pale features. If it wasn't wind, then what was it? Shuichis head cocked to the side in thought, his hands gliding over the papers on the desk. Flipping them over, he checked each piece of paper until.. His hand stopped moving as he stared down at the childish, yet elegant hand writing on the back of the page.

mєєt mє αt thє 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓇𝒶𝒹𝑒 pαrtч hαppєníng σn frídαч. cσmє αlσnє. dσ чσur rєѕєαrch, dєtєctívє. í'll вє wαítíng ~

-чσurѕ trulч.

Shuichi stared at the note, his mind trying to process it. This note gave no detail. Who had written It? It could have been anyone. But, He had locked his door, and the window had been bolted down completely. So someone had to break into his room, and input the-
His glance slid down where his hand was holding the letter. He shifted his hand, words revealing itself.

ρ.s, cυтε ∂яαωιηgs σғ мε, ∂εтεcтιvε~

The culprit had used the word 'Detective,' twice. That reminds him of- No, it couldn't be him. But then, it could be. Shuichi discarded the letter in the closest trash bin. It was one of the bad drawings, anyways. Shuichi rubbed the side of his face silently. What party? If he called Kirigiri, she would get suspicious. The letter clearly stated to come alone. This, might be his only chance. Maybe Kaito knew. Kaito was usually invited to big events like this. Shuichi pulled his phone out of his back pants pocket, turning his phone on. Scanning through his contacts list, he stopped at Kaito. He hesitatited, wondering if he really should call up. It might just be a joke.
It was another lead he couldn't pass down.
Putting the phone against his ear, the phone began to ring softly. For moments, it didn't pick up. Then-