#if they talk again it'll be after dark throws pebbles at haru's windows til he opens them im sure

[dnangelic]

' toooootally . ' weirder than the other could ever even imagine , which is why he's sure he was still trapped in this strange little game , a tug-of-war that really , at the heart of things ; his heart , wasn't his to even gamble over and play . ' for someone like me , there isn't any difference . '

in fact , it might have even been apt to say there was quite literally nothing more than his skills , but he doesn't expect the other to understand . instead , he eyes the motions of the other , watching as his own card is handed back so shamelessly to him . ' --- don't you dare . '

he could have added the pleasantly snarled threat that he'd only return the card with a written promise of something to steal from their studio or maybe even their house next , but the final query interrupts the thought ; makes him pause , snort and look the other once more up and down . you can hide ; you don't have to reveal yourself , and all the great phantom thief can do is feel his lip uncontrollably curl in half a laugh .

' why would i ever do that ? ' a hand throws itself into the air as he shrugs . ' i like the attention . this is a face and voice that the one hundred and twenty five million people of japan ... minus one , you apparently , can already recognize . even if things somehow worked out despite that , creating another name for myself and trying to become an idol would only split my fans , don't you think ? '

not to mention , his poor other self already had his head and hands full with one extra hidden identity ; he might have collapsed if he created yet another for himself . ' --- find someone else . but feel free to think and dream about me as much as you want . like i said , you were lucky enough to get to hear my voice , even though i'm a selfish , jealous person . both my music and my so-called skills will only ever belong to one person . '

to the boy whose life and body he had no choice but to cling to .

' --- to myself , of course . ' and so he waves . it's only now that the burst of enormous black wings reveal themselves from his body . even if the other knew utterly nothing about him , there was no point in keeping phantom limbs like this a secret , either . not when he was expected to return home . dark only waves , and the palms of his hands refuse to at all touch and reclaim his card-parcel . ' ciao , mister manager . you're pretty weird too , but at least it's interesting . maybe i'll find the time to stop by black mamba and frustrate you by singing a lullaby or two right outside your window . '

his sharp , playful grin promises the words are meant to be insufferably charming .

He finally caught on to the obvious fact that Haru doesn't know him. He'd make a comment... but he doesn't want to. Though if he did, it'd be one thing or the other about how he doesn't know most of the people he should. Even criminals, it seems. The clarification doesn't change much of anything about his demeanor.

So he's a criminal. What's that to Haru? Many a folk in the industry happen to be criminals. They've just got about them the wit and connections to keep that bit of their lives hidden from the general public.

"You're weird." Haru blurts it out, but his face remains as inexpressive as could be.No need to thank him indeed. No need, desire or so much as half a thought to, really. Haru thinks it must be exhausting for one to have so much overconfidence that they'd spew so many assumptions out into the open like that with the self-assurance of a scientific genius.

"... I don't care if you're a criminal... and I don't want to manage you. I want to manage your skill." There's a fine distinction. One involves an interpersonal relationship and the other involves nothing more than a workplace arrangement. Haru finds comfort in the latter. The only thing he wants to form a connection with is the man's music - its reach, its glory, and the emotion it might evoke within an audience and himself should it be used right.

He takes the card out of his pocket and looks at it again then extends it the other's way, dull eyes peering right into his as though in search for a soul to suck into themselves. "There isn't a bin around. I don't need this if you're not interested." a pause as he debates adding something. It pains him to have to point it out, but the other strikes him as something of an idiot, so he supposes it's better safe than sorry. "... You know you can be an idol without revealing your identity, right?"