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Summary
One fateful night, Police Detective Akira Kurusu discovers his target, the mysterious phantom thief Panther, trapped in a trashcan.
His mind took the opportunity to point out a few other things as he stared—the ungainly way her limbs were tangled and amount of flexibility she'd need to relax in a position like that, the satchel on her stomach that likely held the rest of the stolen jewelry, the ten centimeter stiletto boots just resting against the rim of the can...
Zippers. Lots of zippers. Really impractically placed zippers that looked like they were just begging for wardrobe failure. Especially with just how much they were supporting.
This woman had stolen billions of yen's worth of valuables over the past five years, and hadn't been caught once.
Akira couldn't quite decide how he felt about... all that.
It's the start of something beautiful.
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Bookmark Notes:
"I don't know why I didn't see it after the scam artist, or the back-alley doctor, or the rogue reporter—"
There was an implication there that he didn't like much. "What are you trying to say? They were all perfectly respectable people."
Makoto could pull the 'I'm not judging you, but I'm judging you' expression like no one else. "...Kawakami was our homeroom teacher."
"And?"
Makoto looked even less impressed. "You dated her while she was our homeroom teacher."
He couldn't really argue with that.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, angelic smile falling right back into place. "All I'm saying is that they all left much to be desired, morally, and I feel better now. I'm far too law-abiding for your tastes."
Now that was just insulting on every account.
He hummed in noncommittal acknowledgement and stuffed the incriminating notepad back in his pocket, then unceremoniously dumped his briefcase on the desk. "Your blackmail, Commissioner."
It was incredibly satisfying to see that angelic smile go stilted and sideways
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Bookmark Notes:
unique. good ann