Hakuba couldn’t believe it. Of all of the evenings to be stuck investigating such a mundane crime, it had to be that one. The rain came down in miserable sheets, flooding the gutters with debris from the storm, mud splattered over the sidewalks and hie shoes. He had exams in the morning, he’d been up all night the previous evening to study, but none of that mattered to his agent. What was so important about the case, anyway? A break-in at a little pawn shop on the bad side of town out in the middle of no-one-cares. Nothing had even been stolen, according to the owners, so why had they hired a private detective?

It was actually that question that had dragged him from his exhausted slump over his desk to check it out. The circumstances didn’t make any sense, which was, in and of itself, interesting. 

At least he was the only one out there, examining the cracked glass from the inside of the darkened shop. In his brain-addled state, he’d actually donned the deerstalker and inverness cape which, while looking ridiculous, at least afforded decent protection from the weather. 

His shoe squeaked as he made his way to the back of the shop to check the back door of that first level, and Hakuba sighed as he about ran into it, vision blurred from how damned tired he was. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, and opened the door, which he realized a second too late that it should have tripped the alarm – but didn’t. Grateful that no one had witnessed his mistake, he went about examining the frame, hoping his blush would calm soon.

“Odd…”