It’s a new moon night.
The city of Seoul is plunged in darkness from above, yet the capital never sleeps. The stars twinkle in mirth, but the traffic lights cast a much brighter light on the millions of inhabitants.
Still, shadows stretch longer today, back alleys tinged in black and roofs harder to monitor – it’s a perfect night.

The perfect night for him.

Jonghyun closes the door of the stairwell entrance behind him, the brisk air of the night sky hitting his face. He had run the way up here, taking two steps at a time as he had climbed the stairs to the rooftop. Finally, he can catch his breath again.
It’s two minutes to midnight which leaves him with plenty of time.
Not that he is ever late – but it’s exactly that that gives him the reassurance. Two, then one, which means he has at least five more minutes.

The brunet over his chapped lips, his gaze wandering over the unlit rooftop terrace. It’s the perfect place, he muses, with no security cameras and no security guards employed for this building.
Jonghyun is absolutely convinced that he is at the right place. He has studied him for years by now. Ever since he made his first appearance – and he had been entranced since the very moment he had caught sight of him on TV.
The brunet remembers everything – how he had been filmed teasing the policemen, holding up the very case he had stolen from the museum. A spectator had caught the moment on camera and Jonghyun still thanks this guy for the amazing quality of the material he had provided.
A wave had been directed at the officers, before he had just swung his legs over the railing… and jumped. The person filming this confrontation between the ‘newly born’ Phantom Thief and the police force had run after the male, his camera catching a last image of the mysterious Phantom as he fell through the air. There was no panic visible in his stature as if he knew he was protected by magic or some greater force.

Jonghyun remembers the way his blonde locks had flittered in the wind, the black linen stripes that kept half of his face hidden coming loose during his fall and if he squinted hard enough he saw plump and pink lips.
A smirk.
And then the video cut off.

Until today he has no idea what had happened after that – how the Phantom had even survived the fall into the depths… but he also knows that he would not get an answer to that question.

His eyes dart to the night sky where countless of stars are hiding in the light of the city. It is almost impossible to see them like this, Seoul being far too bright to give them a chance. And yet, it calms him.
Midnight.

He will be here any moment now.
Jonghyun has to be right. He had read everything he could get his hands on about the Phantom and his movements ever since the first time he had witnessed him outsmarting the police force and escaping.
And ever since then… no one has even come close to catching him.

But Jonghyun… wants to change that. He wants to wipe that arrogant smirk of the blonde’s lips and show him that he can outwit him.

His hands grip the railing tighter, until his knuckles turn white and his nails dig into his skin again. Any moment. His eyes search the sky, wandering between the skyscraper in front of him and the smaller, lower building he has chosen.
He couldn’t be wrong – this is indeed the perfect place.

The five minutes pass tediously and Jonghyun grits his teeth together, every second feeling like hours. The impatience grows in him and his stomach lurches when nothing happens.
Then, he watches the policemen as they suddenly start to scurry around on the road below, the red and blue light of the sirens reflecting in the glass windows of the skyscrapers around them. The noises they make kind of override the words announced through the speaker that call for the thief to stop and to capitulate. Stupid – and so unprofessional. Sometimes Jonghyun wonders if they are even trying in earnest. But then again, they probably know that they have no chance against him.

The Phantom had struck – and as always there is no trace left.

There never is – no matter how well the police force prepares. They know that he only sends warnings for new moon nights. He never strikes on other dates. The phantom is predictable, and yet he always evades the grasps of justice.
It fascinates Jonghyun to the point that others would say he is obsessive. And perhaps that is true. But a man in Jonghyun’s position does not have another choice but chase the Phantom.

His obsession.

A thud resonates from behind him.
Jonghyun freezes.

His eyes are still focused on the policemen below, who are searching through the alleys, turning over every stone and pebble.
He’s not here anymore, Jonghyun tells them in his thoughts.
He is long gone.

Finally, he dares to turn around. Jonghyun curses inwardly as he had apparently misread the Phantom’s movements. And still…
What does it matter now?
The brunet faces the stairwell emerging from the top of the building, which he had climbed not even ten minutes ago. Right on top of it, in the dim light of the new moon night, black linen flatters in the wind.

His face is obscured with black chiffon wrappings, leaving only his eyes to see. He is blonde – but that’s something Jonghyun has already known. The cloth is messily bound around his head in a way that makes it obvious that he hadn’t put much thought to it. This is a matter of convenience, of hiding his identity.
Blue eyes look down on him and Jonghyun is almost sure that the Phantom is wearing contacts. It makes sense at least, he muses.
As a well-known criminal the Phantom has to take the most appropriate precautions, right? The brunet understands – the only thing that he doesn’t is the why.

“There you are.”, he lets out, utterly mesmerised by the sight in front of him. The grace and elegance that make the Phantom who he is… are beyond comparison.

Jonghyun sometimes even doubts that this is real. Or if everything is just a dream, a figment of his imagination.

At the memory of his last gun wound however, he cringes and comes to the conclusion that no matter how surreal this seems, it’s nothing short but real.
The Phantom is real.
And he is right in front of him now, stepping closer, his hand coming up to adjust the silken material slightly, but Jonghyun can’t really make out any details.

(It’s still more like a fantasy than reality.)

“Were you waiting for me?”
The voice is lighter than he had imagined – but a teasing smirk is right there, weaved into his tone though it sounds muffled through the fabric. For a brief moment he catches himself wondering how it would look like, seeing the other smirk directly at him, and the thought is maddening. If it’s there, then Jonghyun just wants to get up on the small roof of the staircase and wipe it off the male’s face.

“Yes.” he answers honestly.
“You are late. You never take more than five minutes, but today you took almost eight.”

A chuckle rings through the moonless night and Jonghyun feels a shiver run down his spine at the sound of it. Is he amusing the other?
It seems like it.
“Sorry I’ve kept you waiting then.” the Phantom replies and performs a curt bow, but his eyes never leave Jonghyun’s form. He must be grinning or smirking underneath the endless layers of fabric by the sound of it, even if there is a tint of suspicion in it. Rightfully so, as the Phantom had luckily no idea who he was talking to. And yet… he seemed amused. It’s all a game to him, Jonghyun realises.
Is that what it is?

A game? Of adrenaline, the rush, the thrill?

Jonghyun wonders, ponders – but the answer can only be given by the Phantom himself.

“It’s fine, I guess. You are here now.” Jonghyun counters, their gazes still directed at each other. They are like two predators, circling around each other, both too cautious to jump for the kill. The Phantom seems not sure what to make of him and Jonghyun is afraid of scaring the other away.
It has taken him months, years, to be here – to be finally one step ahead of him.

He can’t mess this up.

“Who are you?” the Phantom asks, tilting his head, “A fan?” his lips form a genuine smile that causes Jonghyun’s stomach to do a flip, but it lurches back in place the moment the thief pulls out a weapon and points it right at his heart, “Or one of them?” he finishes, jerking his head once toward the skyscraper where the theft had taken place.
Jonghyun swallows, his eyes darting up and down between the black Glock 17 that could end his life in a single heartbeat and the faux blue eyes. He doesn’t know which one is more dangerous, but he finally settles on the azure orbs.
“Both.” he answers, staking everything on a single card and playing it.
“I’m a police candidate, second year at the academy. And I am a fan of the New Moon Phantom.”

The thief studies him, his eyes wandering over his form, probably assessing if he is dangerous or not. Jonghyun lets him and even spreads his arms in slow movements to show him that he is not carrying a weapon.
It is dangerous and stupid, but Jonghyun is here anyway. His heart performs a perpetual drum roll in his chest and he is not sure when he has stopped breathing. Or if he just can’t concentrate on that when the Phantom himself is in front of him.

It’s not like it matters anyway.

Eventually, the thief lowers the weapon and pockets it again. Jonghyun has no idea where the male keeps all of his equipment hidden