In The Parchment And Ink

It had been a long time chasing the young woman. As he lowered his mask, he saw Jun'ichiro staring at him.
"Rintarou," he said, "and why are you wearing this knight mask on your face? To stand out more than you already do."
"Isn't that what we are, June? We are retrieving our treasure." He smiled at him, hoping the quest to not end that soon.

The morning wasn't a bright one; if you'd actually call it a morning for Manji. Heavy drops were falling against the parapet, making the room damp with it's aura and sillage. But Nyx dancing in the shower was more of a sleep inducing mother, a soporific lullaby instead of a duke of hell pulling her feet from under her bed. What woke her up, rather, was what she was most devoid of: laughter. Fear, love and anxiety are the chief thieves of rest; but what when all three of them stab one across their cheek? Isn't it peace then?

The laughter was a concoction of moonlight at dawn and sunlight at dusk; one, some arcane music; another, the sound of flute under the pink sky. The library hadn't been so unquiet before. 'Spirits have wandered into my house,' she superiorly laughed to herself. It was still too early to get out of bed, but you don't say no when excitement himself takes human form just to take your hand and embrace you. There was a loud thud, and a rumble of stacks falling. She felt the cold key against her skin, adorned with the same gelidity that adorns an icy wire.

She felt all gravity in her abdomen as she heard the door creaking open. As soon as she set her eyes inside the library, she met eyes with a young man; she had finally found light amber. He was sitting on the floor, his hand supporting his body, and one leg folded infront, circled by a domino of books. Face covered with a metal mask, he lowered his gaze as he met hers. Another man, with similar crystals of auric glass, stood leaning against the window.
"Miss, your elysium was about to be infested with a rat. Fortunately, taking my usual stroll - pardon me for my oddity - I caught him climbing up to your window."
The man against the window said.
"Respected sir, I must applaud your calm. Even in catching a thief you weren't driven by epinephrine." Manji said. The man let a quite laugh, nodding embarrassment to himself.
"Cut it, June. We did anticipate this." He said to the man on the ground. "Miss, I did expect the resonance operated trap, but in greater calculations, totally missed something so basic as an automated trap."
"Now, Mr. Graydane, the book please?" I said.
"The book, Miss Morrow? Don't they catch aromas easily? Now, that the mystery is solved, where do you store vinegar?" He smirked, unfolding his arms and sliding gloves on both of them.
"For sure, sir. Afterall, you can have the book if you can solve the mystery."

"Ah, Mr. Graydane, why bother me in such a day. There was a reason why I left the main door open."
"But there was also a reason why you kept the window trapped. But seems like all my calculations failed. Vinegar was a decoy, wasn't it?" His red face looked down, while his toes toyed with each other.
"How inconsiderate of my rest you have been, Mr. Graydane when you took the book already from where I stored it."
"Seems like the book has been thieved from the thief herself!" A voice with the magic of an eclipse,  intertwining the serenity of Selena with the enigma of Apollo, filled the room. "My apologies, Miss Morrow, please pardon the ignorance of my mannerisms. I'm supposed to be Ryuuichiro Graydane, the eldest son of the Graydane household. My brothers were insistent on troubling you, especially Rin." There was sandal in the air  now; her house, a pestle brewing lemon with that sacred  scent. It still stayed when the newcomers didn't.

Her house was quiet again, perhaps the Graydanes were the clouds. It was finally time to appreciate nature. She watched out the window, sipping her warm Earl Grey, watching orange clouds decorating the pink sky; a peach fruit held against the cherry blossoms. She quietly moved upstairs. What is the joy of victory when you yourself align it for your rival?

"Mr. Rintarou, how crude! I had set the issue of exploit inside a book you'd love, and still you missed it?" She said to herself, laughing so intense for the first time since her brother's departure. She walked up to the cover of Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment, with confidence to find the greatest detective story in the ink and parch of Dr. Watson himself. What was her profession again? English literature professor with a personal mastery in counterfeiting. 

She picked up the book with the mind to feel once again the greatest masterpiece ever written. But gravity hit her stomach with that; the book was heavier than it was supposed to be. Manji received the punishment for her amicable crime. She dropped to her knees, as she read the note which followed it, laughing maniacally to her misjudgement. 

'Miss Morrow, 

I know of your love for original manuscripts. My intellectual heritage giving me assurance of victory, I came with a gift to replace the treasure. The test was a failure of my mathematical excellence, but when I saw an ordinary copy of Dostoyevsky on your desk, I was flooded with grievance. So I decided to leave the original manuscript, which was actually my present to you in this quest, and take with me the imitated copy. Does sympathy always pay well? Perhaps the Universe listened to me. Come and surpass me, Miss Morrow.

'Catch me if you can,'

That is what would satisfy you, isn't it?''