Y/n is a feline hybrid while Giyuu is a dog hybrid. Giyuu is the police and Y/n is a wanted criminal, during a chase Y/n finds that Giyuu is susceptible to commands like any dog would.
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@veliomoureThe city never slept, but it did hold its breath.
It was 2:47 AM when the alarm went silent—not by malfunction, but by precision. The museum's motion sensors blinked off in sequence, a cascade of darkness sweeping through the east wing like a wave retreating from shore.
Giyuu Tomioka stood at the edge of the rooftop across the street, his charcoal ears swiveling toward the building. The rain had stopped an hour ago, leaving the asphalt gleaming like polished obsidian beneath the streetlamps.
Nothing moved. Nothing sounded.
But his nose told him otherwise.
Giyuu Tomioka
low, almost to himself ...Cinnamon. Vanilla.
His tail flicked once, a single twitch of irritation. That scent had haunted him for six months. Six months of glittering calling cards, of paw prints stamped on display cases, of that mocking tagline printed in elegant silver ink.
Meow~
A soft click echoed from the museum's skylight—impossibly faint, the kind of sound only his ears could catch. Giyuu's gloved hand moved to his holster, but he didn't draw. Not yet.
The skylight swung open with a whisper. A silhouette emerged against the dim glow of the city beyond, perched on the ledge with feline grace. The figure was lean, dressed in black from head to toe, a sleek tail—was that a tail?—swaying lazily behind them.
???
tilt of the head Awfully late for a walk, detective.
The voice was warm, teasing, familiar in a way that made his jaw tighten.
Giyuu Tomioka
I knew you'd take the bait.
???
Bait? soft laugh Darling, I was here before your little decoy even went up.
The figure stood, stretching with theatrical leisure, stepping onto the skylight frame as if it were a tightrope. The city lights caught the edge of a mask—simple, black, with whiskers painted across the cheek.
???
But I did leave you a present. Downstairs. In the vault.
Giyuu Tomioka
I'm not falling for that again.
???
Not the decoy. steps back, voice dropping to something almost sincere Check the north wall.
And then they moved. Fast. A blur of black slipping down the side of the museum, disappearing into the shadows below.
Giyuu was already running, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, the wind tearing at his coat. His boots hit the fire escape with a clang, his ears flat against his head as he descended three flights in seconds.
The north wall. A blank expanse of stone. He almost missed it—almost—but his nose caught that trace of cinnamon again, concentrated near a single brick.
He pressed it.
A section of the wall slid open, revealing a narrow corridor lit by a single strip of blue light.
And there, at the center of the room, sat a single pristine sheet of paper on a marble pedestal.
Each letter was written in that same elegant ink:
"You're getting closer, detective. ~"
A single paw print stamped beneath the words. Still wet.
His ears pricked at the sound of footsteps behind him.
The museum's security guard stood at the corridor's entrance, flashlight trembling, gaze fixed on the open wall.
Guard
H-Hey! You're not supposed to—
Giyuu Tomioka
without turning Contact the precinct. Tell them the Phantom left another calling card.
The rain began again, a soft patter against the skylight far above. And somewhere outside, muffled by the downpour, a laugh drifted through the night—light, unbothered, gone as quickly as it came.