Furina, Please Let Me Steal Your Heart!

"Phantom Thief Reappears? Who Is Its True Identity?"

Last night, an uninvited guest graced the Confrerie of Cabriere's art exhibit with her presence. She called herself the Phantom Thief White Cat, and had issued a challenge letter the day before. Her target was none other than the Tears of a Maiden, the gem on display at the exhibit...

The Phantom Thief White Cat insisted she wasn't the Phantom Weasel from over a decade ago, even going so far as to say, "The Phantom Weasel was just an uncultured fellow. I'm nothing like him."

According to the report, the Phantom Thief White Cat also stole another important treasure: the famous artwork Furina's Smile.

Based on the security team's investigation, the Phantom Thief White Cat had already stolen this painting before absconding with Teardrops of a Maiden. Without a doubt, this was a clever ruse to distract attention...

Mr. Marcel, president of the Confrerie of Cabriere, vehemently denounced the Phantom Thief White Cat, asserting that the thief was solely responsible for all the incidents.

The Phantom Thief White Cat had already made it clear that they would not cease their activities. In response, the Court of Justice urged everyone to safeguard their belongings carefully and to immediately report any issues to the authorities.

Who was the Phantom Thief White Cat? The truth remained elusive, and this newspaper would continue to monitor the situation closely...

"Mm-hmm, the Phantom Thief, huh...."

Within the halls of Palais Mermonia.

Furina, the current water archon of Fontaine, was savoring her breakfast while skimming through the day's news.

Her hair cascaded in shades of white and blue, complementing her unique heterochromatic eyes—a deep and light blue pair—that drew attention to her distinctive appearance. The form-fitting robes she wore further accentuated her allure.

All of this, of course, ignored the disappointingly flat emotion she felt.

Alone in her chambers, she nonchalantly crossed her slender, pale legs, relishing the rare moments of solitude that provided respite from the demands of daily life.

As she came across Marcel's photograph, Furina couldn't help but chuckle. "What an expression! Ha ha ha! This journalist has quite the eye," she mused.

Stuffing a pastry into her mouth, Furina licked the tips of her fingers before returning her gaze to the next line in the newspaper.

"Hmm? They stole my portrait too?"

Could it be...

"She's actually my die-hard fan?"

But why steal my portrait specifically, instead of something else?

I'm sure this must be it! Furina sighed with a smile. "Ah, even being too popular is a crime. Who made me so adored?"

She folded up the newspaper and set it on the table.

The appearance of a Phantom Thief wasn't big news to her; she had witnessed all of Fontaine's history over these past few hundred years.

Throughout time, Fontaine had never been without its peculiar characters.

One more Phantom Thief or one less—there was really no difference.

More importantly, what came next was crucial.

Furina stepped up to the mirror, studying her reflection.

"Another day..." she murmured to herself.

Then, giving her cheeks a firm slap, she prepared to make her grand entrance.

The morning sun's rays caressed Luna's face, her fine, long eyelashes quivering slightly.

" mmh..."

She slowly opened her eyes, groggily registering that it was already morning. Luna then languidly rose from bed.

After staring blankly for a moment, she finally, albeit unwillingly, moved to the bathroom to wash up.

Rising from bed was always the most excruciating ordeal.

Luna carelessly prepared a breakfast of toast and eggs, accompanied by jam and a glass of warm milk. She also retrieved that day's newspaper from the mailbox at the door.

Pfft—

As she flipped it open, the photograph prominently featured on the front page was too much for Luna. She couldn't suppress a laugh.

It wasn't anything formal; it was simply an iconic expression frozen in time.

The news article itself wasn't particularly noteworthy. Charlotte, the reporter, might have added some spice to the story for dramatic effect, but she didn't distort the truth.

Whether other tabloids would do the same, Luna couldn't say.

But public opinion held no sway with Luna.

She had no aspirations to be some kind of justice-seeking hero.

After leisurely finishing her breakfast, Luna changed into her usual attire. She had a place to be today.

That place was Chioriya Boutique.

Since she'd decided to become a musical theater actor, Luna knew she had to be fully prepared.

First, she needed to find a suitable theater group, then prepare for auditions.

Ideally, she'd secure the lead role if possible.

It couldn't be just any ordinary theater troupe either. To quickly gain popularity, she'd have to find one capable of performing at the prestigious Opera Epiclese.

Though this might seem overly ambitious, Luna lacked the patience to start small, working her way up from minor roles.

"I've already honed my acting skills and near-perfect singing techniques," Luna mused, twirling before the mirror. "So why can't I secure the most crucial leading role in one fell swoop?"

As long as they're willing, I'll dazzle everyone with a spectacular stage performance.

Luna slipped on her boots and stepped out of her home. She walked to a street corner and stopped at a clothing store.

She looked up at the sign—Chioriya Boutique.

Her old friend was the owner of this boutique.

Without hesitation, Luna pushed open the door. The tinkling of bells above it caught the attention of someone bent over a table, engrossed in drawing.

"A welcome... Oh, it's you," came a rather unenthusiastic voice.

Luna smiled. "What a cold reception. Shouldn't you be more enthusiastic when greeting a friend?"

"Perhaps."

"Well then, why not give me a warmer welcome this time? Chiori."

Chiori, without even lifting her head, replied, "Too much trouble. Once is enough."

"You'll never win over customers that way, you know."

"I have no need or desire for such a thing. If you're waiting for me to flash my professional smile, you might as well hope the Phantom Thief returns your stolen items," she said, her tone as cold as ever.

Luna was taken aback. "You read the newspaper?"

"Just did. Sadly, there were no pictures of the Phantom Thief. I do wonder what kind of attire they might be wearing."

Chiori set down her pen with a sigh, her body finally relaxing after bending over for so long. She glanced at the design drawing, seemingly unsatisfied, but said nothing. Instead, she decisively put away her pen and came up to Luna.

"You've arrived at the perfect time. Why don't you model for me?"

"Don't you want to know why I'm here?"

"For free food and drinks, of course."

Luna shook her head. "That's not it at all."

Chiori, her friend.

Her brown hair, neatly tied back in a ponytail, curled gently. Her red eyes shimmered with a calm light.

She had always been like this, devoid of even a spark of enthusiasm for people, yet her passion blazed fiercely when it came to clothing.

Born in Inazuma, Chiori now made her home in Fontaine. Luna had first met her when she'd just started working as an adventurer, not long after Chiori had moved to the city. Chiori would often commission her for odd jobs and frequently asked her to model. Over time, this back-and-forth had naturally led to a close bond, and they had become friends.

"What's this? Did you come just to model for me?"

"Well, not exactly. I actually want to have something made for myself."

Chiori's eyes widened. "You... Are you really Luna?"

"Why so surprised?"

"Ever since we first met, I've never seen you wear even one piece of clothing I made for you."

Chiori glanced at Luna's attire. "Always dressed in those cheap, no-name clothes. It's a waste of such a good-looking body. I wanted you to switch to my designs, but you were reluctant. You even said something about owing me so many favors that you'd have to repay me with your body."

Luna's gaze shifted. "That's not fair... because wearing such nice clothes while fighting is really..."

"Just chop off the enemy before they have a chance to tear your clothes," Chiori retorted.

"It's easier said than done," Luna countered. "Besides, haven't I been wearing the clothes you made for me?"

Chiori pinched the edge of Luna's clothing. "That's precisely the point. It's been two whole years, yet you're still wearing these."

"I'm just being frugal."

"You look absolutely stunning, you know?" 

Luna, her face tinged with a hint of blush. She crossed her arms. "Yes, I know. You don't need to tell me every time."

Chiori's expression remained cool. "I meant no ill intent. I was merely pointing out that you have the physique of a natural-born model. A suitable person should wear clothes appropriate for their figure, and I'm the only one who can create something truly tailored to you."

If this were the Luna of the past, she would undoubtedly have misinterpreted Chiori's words, believing that she had been ensnared by a whirlpool of affection with no escape from the gravitational pull of the 'clothes-obsessed woman'.

Now she understood that Chiori's blunt refusal was merely a reflection of her confidence in her craft and pride in her work.

"That's precisely why I've come to you," Luna said softly. "I'd like you to create something special for me."

Chiori's expression seemed to soften a bit. "A wise choice. Tell me, what are your requirements?"

Luna smiled. "I need it for an audition for a musical theater role. I'll leave it to you to decide the specifics."

Chiori blinked in surprise. "Theater?"