Chapter Text
It was still and golden in the empty library. A certain area in a corner, hidden away from the rest of the world, was lit only by the soft flicker of a small lamp. Thick books lined the shelves behind the girl who was barely able to keep her head upright.
Lying down on the hard wooden floor, Walnut’s legs swung back and forth as she slumped forward with a sigh. The junior detective gripped a fountain pen loosely as multiple books and other files scattered on the floor around her.
She had been working for hours— sorting evidence, mapping escape routes, and writing down the list of alleged crimes belonging to the most annoying, elusive criminal she had ever encountered: Roguefort, or as they were notoriously known as, Phantom Bleu.
“Twenty-seven successful heists,” she mumbled, yawning, “twelve known aliases, never caught… yet.” Her eyes fluttered, and the world tilted just slightly. It was still too early for her bedtime, and she needed to find out more about her arch-nemesis!
“And soon… that number will be… twenty-seven and one captured…” The pen slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. Her breathing slowed as she relaxed, her cheek resting on a sheet titled ‘Probable Hideouts’.
A soft breeze stirred through a window that had swiftly and quietly opened.
From the shadows, the figure emerged from the window— Roguefort, who moved with a dancer’s grace. Their cape swirled behind them and shimmered. Their top hat tilted slightly as they peered down at the sleeping detective.
“My, my,” They whispered, crouching beside her. “Looks like the little detective who’s convinced to be mighty has… dozed.” They chuckled softly, resisting the urge to playfully boop the tip of her nose.
Walnut, an eight-year-old junior detective, always carried a comically large magnifying glass everywhere she went, and owned and a vendetta larger than life. Roguefort knew her well as the girl who was full of determination and fire. She was determined to bring the thief to justice, chasing and investigating them almost everyday which had always been a hassle for the both of them.
Although, Roguefort had to admit—there was something delightful about her seriousness. They couldn’t help but find it endearing whenever the detective narrowed her eyes whenever she caught a glimpse of them across a rooftop. Or when she furiously scribbles in her notebook. Or the way she muttered their name like a curse word.
And they would have never expected it, but here she was—vulnerable, soft, and snoring ever so faintly on the cold hardwood floor. The sight made the thief feel a strange warmth in their chest.
‘Is she always like this every night?’ Roguefort thought with a hum. They had never intentionally wanted to go look for Walnut, unless they wanted to stir up some trouble, tease her, or whenever they’re feeling… alone. But they had caught a glimpse of Walnut from outside the library after stealing a precious jewel, and they were curious to see what she was up to. So now, here they were.
The thief’s gloved fingers hovered above a sheet of paper Walnut was sleeping on—then, thoughtfully, they plucked it from under her arms.
“She thinks I have a secret base in the clock tower?” they mused aloud. “How unimaginative. Though… not entirely wrong.” They set the paper back down carefully underneath the girl with a pat and looked back at her. Walnut’s expression had relaxed in sleep, no longer scrunched with frustration. Her hand twitched slightly, as if grasping at a dream.
The thief sighed, hands on their hips while shaking their head. “Your neck’s gonna be stiff if you keep sleeping in that kind of position.” They shivered slightly as they took a small step forward. The library was quite cold. Roguefort then stayed silent for a few seconds, as if contemplating. Do they seriously want to do this…?
Without another word, they walked behind Walnut and lied down, thoughts racing. They carefully slid an arm around her small shoulders, guiding her into a more comfortable position.
After that, they retracted to hold onto their cape, and then wrapped their arm around the girl once more, so the cape could also engulf her like a makeshift blanket.
She murmured something unintelligible and leaned back into the warmth almost instinctively, which made Roguefort freeze. (and pull the detective slightly closer to them.)
This wasn’t a part of the game.
They were supposed to tease her, escape her traps, leave riddles and clues in their wake. They were not supposed to feel protective over the small detective who swore to bring them down. They certainly weren’t supposed to cuddle.
They knew she would be furious and uncomfortable if she woke up like this, but the way she reacted to their actions in her sleep.. it made them think it wasn’t entirely the case. They’ve always wondered what the detective’s true thoughts were regarding them.
And so, Roguefort, the infamous Phantom Bleu, lied down there on the floor on their side with Walnut nestled under their cape, her soft snores like whispers of a lullaby.
The thief watched over her carefully. Somewhere, a clock ticked quietly, indicating the many minutes that passed by.
Roguefort sighed, “I could have taken all these files away,” they murmured. “And make her spiral from a wild goose chase…”
But they didn’t move.
Instead, they held her closer, their chin resting on the top of her head as they listened to the tiny, even breaths of the girl who swore they were her arch-nemesis.
“…Maybe tomorrow.” they muttered, lazily picking up the fountain pen and scribbling on the paper underneath the detective without a care.
And in the soft silence of the library, the girl and the notorious thief rested together—only for a moment. Tomorrow, their game of cat and mouse would continue.
But for now, truce.