---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's not called stealing.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Daichi’s footsteps were like trickles of water running through a forest, echoing with only the slightest noise but flowing. But the sound wasn’t heard by the sleeping Noctis in his laboratory. A pair of black hands turned the doorknob slowly in case the enginner was working, the click of the door soft, opening the door seamlessly. Smooth black hands reached forward to insert the password into the electronic lock, the familiar numbers running through the system to open the mechanical doors automatically.

“Noctis?”

A slumped frame sat at the large desk, head down and a pencil still held in the grip of his hands but scribbles from movements indicated he had been writing something only to fall asleep while doing so. Daichi sighed, rubbing the back of his head in familiar exasperation over this scene. He walked forward to the desk, shuffling books and papers aside to put them in organized piles. “He never ceases to persist.” Daichi murmured, lifting up a piece of paper to examine it. It was a rough piece of weaponry—or at least, the basics of it. It was another blueprint of a possible demonic weapon. Noctis did many of those although most of those ended up in the trash. His trashcan was overflowing, pieces of crumpled paper scattered all around the desk and room.

...

.........

“Of course I don’t. I didn’t make a contract with you for nothing, did I?”

Noctis’s deep voice stirred from the desk, reaching over his chair to pick up a pair of glasses that had fallen onto the ground. His vision of the room was blurry, staring through his glasses with a strange look. Still blurry? Why? Oh. Fingerprints. He was about to wipe the glasses on his cotton shirt when Daichi appeared to give him a handkerchief. “Oh. Thanks.” He stood up to wipe it, bending over to pick up his discarded jacket to slip his arms through the wrinkled sleeves. He didn’t even bother to smooth the fabric out, once again taking a seat at his desk to stare at the plans drawn hours before.

“Of course not. “ Daichi was at his side, peeking over Noctis’s shoulder to examine the plans, his eyes following along the lines and scribbles of notes at the edges. He wasn’t fully in human form even though his demonic form did resemble a human greatly, his body was emitting a cool temperate air versus the warmth a natural human gave off. Noctis leaned back, sighing. Daichi was like a air conditioner that leaked. If he could just take out the leaking part..

"Same problem?" Daichi asked, holding books and papers in one hand, still in the middle of cleaning after the messy engineer.

“Well, it’d be easier if there was a possible way to concentrate your energy. If I could just make some sort of battery that could hold it .. Constructing a weapon around a battery isn’t the hard part.” He looked down at the containers that were blackened or destroyed in the process .. Metal might have been adequate for humans but for demonic energy .. He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers, shaking his head.

“It’s really quite the chore. “ Noctis confessed although the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. A challenge was always welcome-- The bigger the obstacle, the more satisfying the jump. It was fascinating, the way demonic energy worked. Complicated and unpredictable. Like taming a wild horse. He leaned back, his foot kicking an unknown object with a "thud" sound. A box of parts laid in the corner. It wasn’t there before.

Daichi looked under the desk to pull it out, crouching low. Noctis was making a fresh cup of coffee for himself, distracted by the beeping of the hot water. Daichi looked inside, eyes raising, noting the.. rather familiar parts.

Really familiar.

.... It looked like .. the parts from the abandoned clock tower that had been a refuge for dark nights. He stared at it suspiciously. Even with his back turned to Noctis, he could see the inventor suddenly occupy himself very intently with his fresh cup of coffee. His hands, Daichi suddenly noted, were bandaged around the palms as if Noctis had done some strenous activity. Some sort of activity.. like .. taking apart a wall?

“Noctis?”

“…..” Silence was his reply.

“You didn’t happen to .. steal these parts, did you?” Daichi knew that sometimes, there was no limit to Noctis’s research. If it pertained to his research, Noctis got it. (Or tried to.) Daichi fingered a part, lifting it up to examine it further. Definitely from the clock tower.

“No. I have absolutely no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Did you ‘borrow’ them then?”

...

......

“Only for a little while. I planned to put them back. Later.”

Which meant never.