“He’s late again?”

“Shh, he’ll hear you.”

“He’s late so often the teachers don’t like him very much.”

“Who cares, he’s really popular, you know! All the girls would love to be his date. Senior prom, after all.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry if I don’t see the appeal.”

“Are you kidding? He’s sooooooo cute. Just looking at him makes me want to sigh dreamily.”

“Um.”

“I know! But apparently he has a noona girlfriend…”

“You mean there’s no hope for us?”

“Um—”

“Well, that’s what I heard, but you know what else I heard—”

“Oh! Did you hear how his family is apparently super rich?”

“But he’s rebellious and even though he’s quiet and sleepy looking in school, he’s secretly part of a gang? Yeah!”

“Do you girls ever think about the things that are coming out—”

“He has a motorcycle license too, apparently.”

“He’s actually a really good fighter! So bad-.”

“Ever since he got in with the wrong crowd, his family threatened to disown him—”

“What wrong crowd, hello?”

“—but he’s their only heir so they can’t, right?”

“Oh my god.”

“Ohmygosh, don’t forget the one where he actually has more than one girlfriend and they don’t know about each other because he keeps it a secret.”

“Wait, I thought it was that they knew about each other but none of them want to give him up so they just ignore it?”

“Really?”

“Oi, the teacher’s looking at us…”

“Wait wait wait did you hear how he might actually be the Black Cat?”

“What? No way, you mean that cat burglar that’s been in the news lately?”

“Yeah, that’d explain why he’s always asleep!”

“…No kidding, he’s asleep right now. Man, I wish I had the nerve…”

“No, I heard that’s because he’s actually a trainee in an entertainment company and he’s about to debut soon, but it’s being kept super secret.”

“Seriously? Where’d you hear that?”

“My sister’s friend’s brother is friends with a trainee so he gets all sorts of gossip. It’s super cool, I’m so jealous.”

“If you’re not going to pay attention, then get out of my class.”

The gossip group at the back of the class gulped as one, scrambling to bury their heads in their notes. In the meantime, Kim Jongin, also known as the object of their gossip, already had his head buried in his notes…literally. Considering he’d weathered his first year of highschool as the supposed prince to some small nation—his friends hadn’t stopped laughing over that yet—he was thankfully immune to most of it by now. When the teacher came around to rap him on the head for napping, Jongin shot her a sleepy—but charming—smile and a murmured apology. Never let it be said that Kim Jongin didn’t know how to turn on the charm when he needed to.

He promptly went back to napping.

Beside him, his desk partner, a Chinese exchange student who went by Tao, sighed heavily. Jongin didn’t even know why he cared—it wasn’t like his notes were good enough to copy from anyway…on the rare occasion he took notes.

-

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, Do Kyungsoo was staring blankly out the window, pen in one hand and chin in the other. History first thing in the morning was a brutal way to start the day, and honestly, the course had sounded much more interesting on paper. Unfortunately, the professor was prone to drone, and Kyungsoo didn’t have the patience to hone in on what exactly was being said. Before long, his head had hit the table, and a not very attractive trail of drool puddled next to his arm. Beside him, his friend idly doodled on his face.

Needless to say, our two protagonists – for these two are, indeed, no matter how unpromising they seem, our two protagonists – weren’t about to prove their mettle in school.

-

Jongin yawned, leaning against the register. His shift was always a busy one, and he couldn’t wait to get home and hopefully sleep for once. He never bothered with a watch, and he’d forgotten to charge his phone last night, so he had no idea what time it was. That obscenely tall couple had left a few minutes ago, so he knew that his shift was at least three quarters done. Obscenely tall and good looking, not that he was looking. The not-as-tall one had snagged a box of condoms just before they’d left and dropped it on the cash register, so Jongin guessed that someone was getting some that night. Not that he was paying attention. Or bitter. Definitely not bitter.

Okay, so maybe he was just really bored. There were only so many things he could do from behind the cash register of a mid-sized convenience store when his phone was out of battery. An elementary school kid came up with a carton of chocolate milk and Jongin rang him through, handing him his change. When he glanced up, a familiar face was handing him another carton of chocolate milk.

Jongin blinked.

“That’ll be a thousand fifty won,” he said.

The other person blinked back, and then handed him a two one thousand won notes. As Jongin slipped them into the cash register one by one, a slip of paper fell out and onto the floor. Jongin murmured an apology as he bent down behind the counter. He glanced at it, and suppressed a groan. Thursday, 9:30, Gahoe it said in a quick scrawl. He shoved it in his pocket as he stood, quickly making change.

“Nine fifty is your change,” he said, handing him a handful of coins as well as a slip of paper. “Also, you dropped this.”

“Oh did I? I must not have noticed,” Kyungsoo said, sliding the change into his wallet.

“Have a good evening,” Jongin said cheerfully.

I hate you, the paper said. Thursday was in two days, and that meant two more days of not enough sleep.

-

So here’s the thing. Kim Jongin wasn’t the heir of a small kingdom, definitely wasn’t part of a gang, and nor did he have multiple girlfriends, or a noona girlfriend, or any girlfriends for that matter, but the gossip wasn’t entirely wrong. No, he wasn’t a super-secret trainee of an up and coming boyband either. Unfortunately, and much to his chagrin, his family did have quite a bit of history, so to speak, which meant that yes, Kim Jongin also spent far too many nights as the recently infamous Black Cat.

Oh, and he would like to point out that it was the media who had come up with that name, not him.

And like any proud criminal, he did not act alone. No, he had someone watching his back, and that was—

“Do Kyungsoo, I really, really hate you..”

“Haven’t you heard about not shooting the messenger?”

Jongin sat at the kitchen table, jabbing angrily at his phone while Kyungsoo put the finishing touches on dinner. He glanced up from replying to a text to glare at the back of Kyungsoo’s head.

“Besides,” Kyungsoo placated, “your grandfather assured me that this was the last one for a while.”

Jongin’s chin hit the table with a small thump. “My grandfather can a ,” he grumbled, ignoring Kyungsoo’s shocked admonition. “Also, I am not a proud criminal and your video diaries are dumb.”

Kyungsoo whirled, ladle in hand, a look of pure fury creasing his brows. “Take that back,” he said.

Jongin sat up, crossing his arms across his chest with a smirk. “Take what back?” he asked. “That your video diaries are dumb? Because they are.”

“Yah, Kim Jongin if you don’t take that back you’re not getting dinner—”

“You can try,” Jongin said, sliding his phone into his pocket and walking over to the stove. Kyungsoo brandished the ladle at him, and Jongin had to duck to avoid being splashed by drops of kimchi stew as he grabbed the pot of soup and hightailed it back to the table.

“Why you little,” Kyungsoo threatened uselessly.

“I’m not the greatest thief of my time for nothing,” Jongin said, grinning. He stared at the pot in his hand, and then at the table, but before he could put it down, Kyungsoo had rushed over with a pot holder, sliding it underneath.

“Please use your talents for good,” Kyungsoo muttered under his breath, but walked back to the kitchen anyway to grab the dishes and utensils while Jongin headed for the rice cooker.

“I thought the definition of ‘proud criminal’ was bad,” Jongin pointed out.

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he said.

“So what’s the target this time anyway?” Jongin asked, digging into his dinner.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full!” Kyungsoo scolded, and then sighed. “Anyway, it’s some old jewelry piece or other, currently being kept in Transit at the museum. ‘He’ll know it when he sees it,’ the old man said, and I guess that’s all the hint you’re getting.”

“Wouldn’t it be great to just be a normal teenager?” Jongin asked his rice mournfully.

Kyungsoo snorted. “Please, you wouldn’t be happy being a normal teenager.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll go check it out tomorrow,” Jongin said. “Piece of cake. I’m sleeping tonight.”

“About that…” Kyungsoo said slowly, prodding at his rice.

“Yeah?”

“I heard from my cousin that he’s been dispatched to Gahoe for this week…”

Jongin stared at Kyungsoo, aghast. “He didn’t.”

Kyungsoo nodded solemnly. “He did,” he said.

“I don’t even want a calling card,” Jongin groaned. “The old man sent a calling card again. Why does he make my job so difficult?”

“There there,” Kyungsoo said, patting Jongin on the arm. “I’m sure he’s doing this for your own good.”

“Please send my regards to grandfather,” Jongin said, his tone implying that none of his regards were of the good kind. He paused. “Also, your cousin is a tool. Also also, I’m not doing the dishes.”

“Nice try, but it’s your turn tonight.”

“Kyungsoo.”

“I am not above withholding something for up to a week.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” Kyungsoo hummed. When Jongin didn’t retort, he knew that he’d won.

-

“By the way,” Kyungsoo asked when they were lying in bed later that night, “what did you mean when you said my cousin is a tool?”

Jongin just laughed.

-

They reconvened in the apartment just before six on Thursday. Jongin arrived home first, throwing his school bag under the bed, the jacket of his school uniform following soon after. He heard the click of the window as it shut, and continued shrugging off his shirt. He was just kicking off his pants when his bedroom door opened before it slammed shut again, echoed by a startled squeak and Kyungsoo’s “sorry!”

Jongin rolled his eyes. “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” he said, walking over to open the door in his underwear. He grinned as Kyungsoo averted his eyes anyway. Kyungsoo was dressed in the t-shirt and sweats Jongin had left in the kitchen, and his hair was slightly rumpled, probably from the trip here.

“It’s different,” Kyungsoo muttered, but let himself be pulled into the bedroom anyway.

“Mmhmm,” Jongin hummed. Kyungsoo sat on the bed as Jongin rummaged through his closet.

“You ready?” Kyungsoo asked.

Jongin shrugged. “Sure,” he said.

“Do you know…what it is you’re looking for?” Kyungsoo asked.

Jongin pulled a shirt out from the closet before joining Kyungsoo on the bed. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers, relishing the way it slid smoothly against his skin. His eyes slipped shut as he leaned back on the bed, thinking back to yesterday. Officially, he and Kyungsoo didn’t know each other—he hadn’t actually spoken to Kyungsoo since the day before yesterday. He’d dropped by the museum after visiting an old friend in the area, but with less than promising results.

Jongin sighed. “No, but I know where it is,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. He didn’t know why his grandfather liked to make him jump through these hoops anyway. Wasn’t it enough that he sacrificed hours of sleep and risked life and limb (not really) and not to mention his criminal record for the sake of family honour, without having this made more difficult for him than necessary? He tugged at the hem of Kyungsoo’s shirt absentmindedly, before tracing his fingers up over Kyungsoo’s back.

“So, eight, huh?”

He felt Kyungsoo startle. “I didn’t even tell you yet!” Kyungsoo sighed. “But yes, he changed the time. How did you know?”

Jongin sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. The side of his closet that was open was filled with black. “I told you,” he said. “Your cousin’s kind of a tool.”

“You spoke to Joonmyun hyung?”

Jongin chuckled, walking over to the closet again and leaving the shirt on the bed. “Yeah. He’s surprisingly helpful for being a police officer in training. Told me when the Black Cat was expected to show up, and everything. Oh relax hyung, he doesn’t know anything and when were you going to tell me about the change? Besides, now he won’t think it’s strange if he sees me tonight, because I told him I’d be there.”

“You, you—”

“Told him I’d be there? Yeah, so what?” Jongin turned to Kyungsoo calmly, tugging a tank top over his head as Kyungsoo gaped at him, his mouth hanging open like a goldfish.

“Your grandfather would be so upset if he knew,” Kyungsoo settled for saying, rolling his eyes at Jongin.

"It's not like I'm going to tell him," Jongin said.

"He has his ways," Kyungsoo said with a sigh. He turned to check the clock. Still some time. "Do you want dinner?"

Jongin shrugged. "Nah," he said, tugging the shirt over his head. He glanced at the clock. The sky was starting to darken, but he didn't feel good about leaving before seven anyway. He'd find something else to do to kill time.

"You're nervous," Kyungsoo said suddenly. Jongin snapped around to look at him a little too quickly.

"No I'm not," he said flatly.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened," Jongin said. An hour was enough time for a nap. "I'm taking a nap."

"You never turn down dinner. Unless you're nervous."

Jongin huffed, and then threw himself on top of the covers. "Fine, then make me dinner. I'm still taking a nap."

He didn't wait for Kyungsoo to sigh heavily before getting up to leave, shutting the door behind him, before he rolled over onto his side and pulled the pillow over top of his head.

Jongin drifted off into an uneasy sleep within minutes.

He was scaling the wall of an old mansion on the outskirts of Seoul, faintly aware of the police presence on the perimeter of the estate. The gated enclosure had been a simple matter, and gaining entrance this time was only a matter of practice. He could feel his breathing echo down through his chest, as he clung onto the window sill with one hand and unlatched it with the other. The window slid open easily, just enough for him to slide through, the curtains billowing inwards with the wind. The window opened into a study--he'd scouted it out beforehand, there shouldn't be anyone here. There wasn't. Not that he could see. He was here to retrieve a vase, and he padded across the room, down the hall - there, the steady breathing of one deep in sleep, and just past that, a room with innumerable treasures. He held back a scoff. They'd been forewarned he'd be paying a visit, and even so, they had the barest security measures in this room. The police outside were useless. He slipped inside, careful not to trip the lasers, and within minutes, had snagged the vase and was heading back down the hall--there was no one. No one. There was no one.

Then why, when he turned his head, was there a shadow there? He turned - it slipped out of his vision. Turned more - there, gone. There - just to his left--gone again. To his left-gone. Jongin spun, vase clutched to his chest. Again, again, again. No, no, no. Collect yourself, he said silently. You're the Black Cat now. It's just a shadow. The study was still empty. He opened the window, and just as he was about to dive out, a hand closed around his wrist and then he was falling, falling, fall--

"Jongin-ah?"

Jongin sat up, breathing heavily. The room was dark. A dream. He'd been dreaming. He blinked. The clock read just after seven. Kyungsoo opened the door, and light flooded in from the kitchen. Jongin shook his head, dislodging the odd memory-turned-dream he'd just had.

"Is everything okay?" Kyungsoo asked, his eyes wide. "It sounded like you were saying something."

Jongin rubbed at his eyes and yawned, throwing off the covers. "I'm fine," he said. "Are you ready?"

Kyungsoo stared at him, and Jongin sensed that he didn't quite believe him. Maybe he didn't quite believe himself. "Do you want to eat?" Kyungsoo said quietly. "I made--"

"I want to go now," Jongin said. He sounded a little too petulant for his own taste, but it was too late to correct it. "Let's go." Too sharp this time, too harsh.

Kyungsoo flinched at his tone, but nodded. "I'll put it away for lunch tomorrow," he said, and turned to go.

That's right, Jongin realised as he slipped on the last few layers of his usual outfit, checking that all the tools he might need were tucked safely into his various pockets. Kyungsoo hadn't been there in that dream. It was just a dream. He'd stolen that vase two weeks ago. Kyungsoo had been with him, like Kyungsoo always was.

Kyungsoo was also waiting for him when Jongin emerged from the bedroom.

"Do your thing," Jongin said, eyeing him.

Kyungsoo gave a long suffering sigh, and in the next instant, where there'd been a five foot something young man an instant earlier, a spotted black and grey rabbit was nestled among a pile of clothes.

"For a side-kick, you really are useless," Jongin said, scooping up the rabbit.

"Shut up," the rabbit grumbled, as Jongin slipped him into a special carrier pouch in his jacket. A miniature ear piece and other rabbit sized gear was also inside. "I didn't choose to be able to turn into a rabbit."

"Why can't you at least fly? In this one cartoon, they had a flying rabbit."

"Do we have to go over this every time?"

"Yes."

"I'm recording this, you know."

"Well, for the record, I still think you're useless."

"Kim Jongin."

"Oh shut up, Do Kyungsoo. Just sit still and be a good bunny."

The museum, as he expected, is surrounded by a heavy police force. Mostly plainclothes, because the police insist that drawing attention to the Black Cat burglaries is exactly what the Black Cat wants, and an obvious police presence would only heighten the media awareness of the criminal. If only they knew that the Black Cat would rather have nothing to do with this all.

The Black Cat gained entrance to the museum grounds when one of the guards looked away for a split second, a faint rustling in the bushes. It was only a rabbit, probably an escaped pet. How cute, the guard thought, as the rabbit darted away through the underbrush and towards the museum. The Black Cat was in. The rabbit hopped towards him, and into the Black Cat's arms.

It was true that the Black Cat had failed to discern what exactly the target was the previous day, however, he'd easily located the general location. Not that that was difficult, when the door was labelled TRANSIT in big, block letters, with NO ENTRY written right underneath. He hadn't wanted to risk paying a visit inside in broad daylight, but now, he had no qualms unlocking the door with a few twists of his fingers, and slipping inside.

His eyes had adjusted to the dark ages ago, and now, he scanned the warehouse like distribution of boxes and old artefacts. He walked down the shelves, seemingly guided by a sixth sense, his other five senses on high alert. There was a guard patrolling just outside the building. The Black Cat quelled his own heart beat, and silently willed the rabbit tucked inside his shirt to do the same. He paused in front of a certain box, slipping it off the shelf with gloved fingers. A small pendant blinked back at him. He felt the rabbit tap against his chest in query, and the Black Cat nodded, before plucking it out and—

"Look out!"

Jongin swore, as something hurtled towards him, knocking him off his feet and the box out of his hands.

A figure danced in front of him, as Jongin held one arm protectively in front of where Kyungsoo was tucked away.

"Hello, Black Cat," the figure said. Jongin couldn't see his features behind the mask, but he could hear a smug smile. He swore.

He wasted no breath responding as he scrambled to his feet, darting out to grab the pendant and leave. Whoever the other was, however, was faster, as Jongin cried out in pain when they stepped on his fingers.

"Not so fast," they said.

Kyungsoo squeaked, as Jongin swiped at the other's ankles with a low kick. They jumped back, and Jongin flipped away. The pendant remained on the floor. He couldn't fail. He couldn't.

"Just leave it there like a good boy. Sit still, the police are coming."

And indeed, he could hear them arriving en masse.

Jongin faltered.

"Go," Kyungsoo hissed, his voice echoing in Jongin's ear. "You can't be caught here."

"But the pendant," Jongin said.

"It can wait," Kyungsoo said, and Jongin nodded.

There was the way he'd come in, through the door, and an air vent. Jongin opted for the door.

"Leaving so soon?" the other said, and Jongin found his exit blocked.

"Out of my way," he hissed, charging forward. This time, he was ready as his opponent struck out, side-stepping nimbly and ducking under their grasp. Kyungsoo's rabbit claws were pressed against his chest, but that was secondary as Jongin rolled forward.

"Not so fast," the other hummed, hopping backwards. A barricade of police officers was fast forming. There wasn't much time.

He slipped the small knife he carried out from his sleeve, brandishing it. "Out of my way," he repeated, dashing forward. What he didn't expect was for his blade to be deflected by another blade, glancing towards him. Kyungsoo, he thought, panicking as he swept it aside with his arm.

He hissed as it caught against his skin, tears springing to his eyes at the burn. He could hear Kyungsoo's worried mutters, but he ignored them as he forged ahead.

However he got out, Jongin could only thank his lucky stars that all his training had paid off.

"You're hurt," Kyungsoo hissed, as Jongin collapsed heavily into a bush. "Oh my god you're hurt."

"Will you shut up?" Jongin said, rummaging around for the bag of clothes he'd hidden and wincing when a branch caught against his arm. Autumn evenings had their own chill. "I know I'm hurt. Now shush and be a bunny." He cut off Kyungsoo's further protests by pulling him out of the pouch and plucking off the earpiece.

By the time Joonmyun came into sight, Jongin had slipped on a light grey hoodie and was clutching Kyungsoo in his arms.

"Hi hyung!" Jongin called out. Joonmyun was practically glowing, and Jongin suppressed the urge to glower.

"Jongin? What're you doing here?" Joonmyun walked over to where Jongin was sitting on the edge of the planter.

"To see the Black Cat, of course!" Jongin said cheerily. Kyungsoo nipped at his fingers, and Jongin grimaced. He held up the rabbit. "But then my rabbit got loose so I guess I'm late?"

"Oh, we stopped him!" Joonmyun exclaimed brightly, sitting down next to Jongin. He looked curiously at Kyungsoo, and Jongin swallowed. "You have a rabbit?"

Jongin nodded. "Yeah," he said, eyeing Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo wrinkled his nose. Jongin looked back at Joonmyun, arranging his features into an appropriately curious face, hoping that Joonmyun wouldn't notice the dark stains that were slowly trickling towards the edge of his sleeves. "You stopped him?" he said.

"He didn't take a thing!" Joonmyun said proudly. As if he'd done anything to help, Jongin thought with disgust.

"How'd you stop him?" Jongin asked, keeping up the clueless-teenager-in-awe-of-grandson-of-police-chief-who-was-altogether useless act. Okay, maybe minus the last part.

Joonmyun hesitated, and Jongin allowed himself an internal smirk of satisfaction (because he knew the truth), but listened attentively as Joonmyun went on and on about how their preparation and preparedness and something something something—Jongin tuned out, the biting pain in his arm distracting. Kyungsoo wriggled in his grasp, and in one swift movement, leapt out of his hands.

Jongin jumped up in surprise, scooping the rabbit up before it could go any further. Joonmyun stopped talking abruptly behind him, and Jongin thanked a quiet prayer to Kyungsoo. "Sorry hyung, maybe I should go home first," he said, turning around to look at Joonmyun.

Joonmyun nodded understandingly. "It's probably cold for...what's your rabbit's name?"

Jongin faltered. "Uhm--Soosoo," he said. Kyungsoo bit him on the finger. "Anyway, I'll, um, see you later?"

"Yeah, later," Joonmyun agreed, and Jongin dashed off. Every moment he spent near that place felt like a festering burr under his tongue.

Jongin locked the door behind him and dumped Kyungsoo on the floor, walking to the bathroom without turning on the lights, and without a word. Frustration bubbled under his skin, and he suppressed the urge to growl as he stripped down and stepped into the shower, hissing in pain when the water surged hot around the laceration down his arm.

"Jongin?" Kyungsoo's voice drifted in over the sound of the rushing water.

"What?" Jongin snapped.

"Are you...alright?"

Jongin didn't answer. The door opened, and he heard Kyungsoo come in. He glanced up surprised when Kyungsoo pulled back the shower curtain, but leaned back against the wall, looking away.

"I'm fine," he said, a wave of weakness washing through him. Kyungsoo the light, and Jongin blinked as red washed across his vision, blinking a few more times to clear it before he realised it was the red of blood draining down the shower floor. "I'm fine."

He stiffened, but didn't pull away as Kyungsoo walked into the shower, a t-shirt having been tugged over his head, pulling him into a tight hug. Kyungsoo's heartbeat thudded against Jongin's back, the thin fabric dampening as water coursed down Jongin's shoulders and along his back. Gradually, he relaxed into Kyungsoo's grip, his head falling back against Kyungsoo's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said. Heat prickled against his eyelids. "I'm sorry, hyung."

"Shhh," Kyungsoo said.

Jongin followed as Kyungsoo pulled him out of the shower, draping a towel over his shoulders. He winced when the fabric rubbed against his arm, but stood quietly while Kyungsoo reached over to turn off the water, waiting until the older boy lead him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Kyungsoo stripped off his wet shirt, leaving it on the floor as he grabbed clothes for Jongin. Jongin watched as Kyungsoo disappeared, and then reappeared with the first-aid kit.

Neither of them said a word as Kyungsoo applied antiseptic to the gash, lining it with gauze padding and then wrapping it with bandages. NO ONE IGN CARES

"I..." Jongin began hesitantly. "Do you think..."

"It's alright not to be perfect," Kyungsoo said calmly, securing the bandage with a safety pin.

Jongin paused, taken aback. He looked down at his hands as Kyungsoo put the first-aid kit onto the floor. The strap of his bag was sticking out from under his bed.

"Your grandfather," Kyungsoo said slowly, "isn't as scary as you think."

Jongin chortled, Kyungsoo's words unexpected. "I know," he said simply. He hadn't seen his grandfather since he'd moved back to the city for middle school, but the grandfather of his memory wasn't a scary figure - no, the grandfather of his memory, was, if anything, lacking. He remembered his grandfather's back, and the way disappointment etched harsh lines on his face, every time Jongin didn't measure up to par in whatever training activity of the day he'd been assigned to. He remembered, distinctly, one evening in the middle of summer after he'd turned twelve, looking up at his grandfather's face after tripping, breathless, falling on hands and knee. His grandfather had said nothing, and had only turned and walked away. That had been more than enough.

"I think I told you this before," Kyungsoo said, leaning back on his hands as he sat next to Jongin on the bed, "but your grandfather took me in when I was five, after my parents died. I've always wondered why, because after all, my grandfather was, and still is, the chief of police. I didn't find out until later, that..."

Kyungsoo trailed off, and Jongin realised too late that he'd been listening too acutely to what Kyungsoo had been saying, leaning in almost imperceptibly. Kyungsoo shook his head, catching Jongin's eye with a smile before Jongin looked away hastily.

"Anyway, did you know that back in his day, your grandfather wasn't infallible either?"

Jongin shook his head. "It's not that, hyung. It's...this is for myself."

"Yes, yes, your family pride," Kyungsoo said.

Jongin didn't answer, and Kyungsoo dropped a set of clothes into his lap.

"It's alright to say no," Kyungsoo said, and this time, Jongin smiled.

"No," he said. "It's not alright. We're going again. Tomorrow. And this time, I'll be the one to tell them that we're coming."

In the dark, Kyungsoo frowned.

-

Kyungsoo is the one who slips the calling card under the front door of the museum, minutes before it opens. Jongin watches him disappear with the black card in his mouth, a small cartoon cat doodled on the corner. Tonight, 9:30. They must have moved the target. But he remembers the feeling of the pendant in his hands, the warmth that had seeped in through his palms, even through the gloves. He closes his eyes as he props his chin on his hands, knowing that he must be getting odd looks for being out of school on a Friday morning. Whatever.

Faintly, he can see it, tucked away in a second building behind one of the exhibits closed for renovation. It hits him like a revelation, a soft sigh of attainment. He's never told Kyungsoo that this, this is why he does this. He complains about it, but it's more important than simple pride, or a legacy. Perhaps, it's closer to a purpose.

"Jonginnie? Shouldn't you be in school?"

Jongin's eyes snap open, and suddenly, there are familiar eyes too close to his face. He lets loose a silent squawk as he windmills, falling backwards against the bushes before there's a hand on his wrist, and he winces.

"Hyung!?" he says, as he recognises the eager smile and baby-face. "I'm, um. Yeah."

"It's alright, I won't tell," Lu Han says, grinning conspiratorially as he sits down next to Jongin. "It's not like I was a star student either, hm?"

Jongin nods, gulping at Lu Han's close proximity. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, suddenly mindful of the swollen fingers on his right hand. "I was just...out for a walk," he says.

"Nice day for a walk," Lu Han agrees, and it is. Brisk, fall weather. "By the way, have you changed your phone number?"

Jongin blinks, surprised. "No...why?"

"Hmm, that's odd," Lu Han said, pulling out his own phone. "Yixing said you had."

"Yixing?" Jongin frowned. "Yixing did?"

"Mmhmm," Lu Han hummed. "One of the first things he told me when I got back into the country. Hang on, give me your phone for a sec? I changed my number."

Jongin hesitated, before pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it over. Lu Han's eyes lingered on Jongin's bruised fingers, and Jongin stuffed them back into his pocket as fast as he could.

"Caught them in a door," he muttered.

"Ouch," Lu Han said, wincing in sympathy. "I don't blame you for skipping school."

There was the sound of rustling branches, and Jongin glanced aside to see a rabbit peek its head out before disappearing into the bushes again. He swallowed, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks.

"I...have to go, hyung," he said, excusing himself hastily.

"Sure!" Lu Han said, handing him his phone back. "I should go too. I'll see you later!"

"Wasn't that Lu Han?" Kyungsoo commented later when they'd returned to Jongin's apartment. Jongin nodded, grunting assent around a mouthful of yesterday's leftovers from the dinner he hadn't eaten.

"I thought he'd gone back to China," Kyungsoo said thoughtfully.

"I ran into him yesterday," Jongin said. "When I was leaving Yixing's. I...dropped by where he works so I'd have an alibi if anyone wondered what I was doing there."

"I remember you used to have a crush on him," Kyungsoo said, blinking at Jongin. Jongin felt the familiar flush rise to his face as he buried his face into his bowl.

"Shut up, hyung," he muttered. "That was years ago."

"Two, actually," Kyungsoo pointed out. "And it only ended because he left the country."

"I'm with you now," Jongin said under his breath.

Kyungsoo teased a piece of kimchi to the edge of his bowl. "I was thinking," he said, drawing his words out, "that I shouldn't go with you—"

"Nope."

"Jongin, think about it."

"Not an option."

"I thought you said I was useless."

Jongin glanced up from his bowl, but Kyungsoo was looking down. "You're not still upset about that, are you?" he said.

Kyungsoo shook his head. "I'm not upset, but maybe you're right. I'm just dead weight."

"You're an extra set of eyes," Jongin said.

"I'm a rabbit," Kyungsoo pointed out, exasperated.

Jongin tapped his chopsticks thoughtfully against the edge of his bowl. "But not any rabbit," he mused. Maybe this would work out after all.

-

The scene this time was a different story. Media and news reporters swarmed the museum, news that the police had somehow foiled the Black Cat the night before slipping into all the morning papers. And somehow, word that he was going to try again had also been leaked, and now, here they were, ready to catch the failure of the Black Cat on camera and getting underfoot while doing so. Jongin almost chuckled - there were so many people stopping to take a gander, a lone teenage boy was the last thing on anyone's minds. Why all the fuss, though? It wasn't even like he was stealing anything truly valuable.

Jongin slipped away from the crowds, turning down a side street and skirting the church. He could feel Kyungsoo shift nervously against him, and he reached a hand in to him reassuringly.

Surprisingly, the security was even more lax this time around. He hopped in through a window, of all things, holding his breath as he dropped silently to the ground. As they'd discussed, Jongin crouched down, letting Kyungsoo drop out of the pouch, disappearing into the shadows. They'd never split up before.

His pulse thudded loud against his chest, his throat. He'd have to trust Kyungsoo - and this time, speed was off the essence. It took less than half a minute for him to disable the security, scooping the small pendant from its locked drawer and tucking it into a pocket.

"He's to your left, duck," he heard Kyungsoo mutter, and Jongin dropped to the ground, turning as he did so, a grin on his face.

"Not this time," Jongin said.

He leapt backwards, taunting the other towards him, dancing just out of reach. He slipped lithely under his arms, laughing when the other cursed, finding his legs tangled in a fine, almost invisible wire.

Preparedness was almost anti-climatic.

He scooped Kyungsoo up as he lept onto the window, pausing to look back when he heard no sound of pursuit. And indeed, they simply stood there, a smile twinkling in their eyes.

Jongin froze, as the figure shook off their hood.

Well played, he saw Lu Han mouth, before the Black Cat disappeared into the darkness, victory sweet in his trail.

-

"Is he sleeping again?"

"Sigh, he's so dreamy though!"

"Do you think he'd go out with me if I asked?"

Jongin buried his head a little more firmly into his arms, stifling a snort. He wondered if they realised he could hear them.

"As if! You'd be lucky if he even looked at you! Remember, he's supposed to have tons of beautiful noona girlfriends."

Yeah, if his beautiful noona girlfriend was a university student hyung who was shorter than he was. Maybe he should get that girl's number, just to see the look on her face. Or Kyungsoo's face, for that matter.

"Love is blind!"

"Yeah, but he isn't."

"Sigh, why must you destroy all my dreams. I haven't said a word about how your dream boyfriend is a cat burgler of all things!"

Jongin burst out laughing, hiding it with his sleeve, but it was too late - Tao elbowed him in the side at the same time as he heard the teacher call his name.

"Is something the matter, Jongin?" The teacher asked, tapping the chalk against the table.

Jongin shook his head, willing the smile off his face. "Not at all."

Of course, as to what the matter actually was - well, that was a story that will have to wait for another day.