It was spring vacation of sixth grade—the end of March, one week before Asuka (say it like “Aska”) Kouzuki would officially start junior high. Oh, and Asuka is me!
I was free from homework for now, so I was being as lazy as humanly possible. How lazy? Let’s just say I reread almost every manga in the house. All one hundred or so of them.
“Guess this is it.” I sighed.
I was partway through the very last volume when my dad called to me from the hallway.
“Hey, Asuka! Can I talk to you?”
“What about?” I answered without looking up.
“Can you come to my room? I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Does it have to be now?”
I still had about half the volume left. The main character was in trouble, and I was dying to know what happened.
“It’s important,” Dad said.
I looked up. Important? What was such a big deal? I tried to think of something, but…
…Oh. Maybe he was finally getting married again.
My mom passed away in a car accident when I was little, and it was hard to imagine anyone else wanting to marry my dad.
Reluctantly, I tore myself away from the manga and stood up.
“Hold on a sec! I’m on my way.”
I opened the door, and Dad was standing there.
I’m pretty tall for my age, but Dad’s so tall that I have to lean back to look him in the face. He’s almost six feet, built like an athlete, and not a bad-looking guy, either—although I know I’m biased. You’d think the ladies would be lining up to date him, except his fashion sense is a disaster. He’ll go outside in literally anything.
Take right now, for instance. He’d just thrown on an old, stretched-out shirt like it didn’t even matter. I’ve talked to him about it a million times, but he still just takes whatever’s on top of the pile in his dresser and wears it.
How is this guy ever going to convince someone to marry him?
“What? Why are you staring at me?” he asked.
“Nothing. What did you want to talk about?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you when we get to my room. They’re both waiting for us.”
“Who? Uncle K and Kei?”
“Yeah.”
Dad’s room is Japanese style, like mine, with tatami mats. When we walked in, the low table he always uses was set up in the middle. Uncle K—Keiichiro, that is—was sitting on the far side. He’s lanky and wears glasses, and his face looked as kind as it did the last time I saw him.
My cousin Kei, who’s the same age as me, was sitting on the other side of the table. He’s never shown much emotion, even as a little kid. His face is like a mask, and he’s really pale. Plus, he never cuts his hair, so his bangs cover about half of it.
The two of them had been at our place all morning, but I’d only seen them at lunch. Even though Kei’s my cousin, Dad and I only meet up with him occasionally, and I’ve hardly talked to him at all. He’s as antisocial as he looks, and I’ve never felt the urge to make conversation.
Dad sat down next to his brother, so I sat down next to my cousin. I looked over at Kei, but he seemed totally uninterested in me. Then Dad coughed to get my attention again.
Right. What the heck did he want to talk about? It must be super important if he’d invited the relatives.
“Asuka, have you heard of Phantom Thief Red?”
Huh? That was random.
I cocked my head. He brought the three of us here to talk about Phantom Thief Red?
“Of course, but…,” I answered, confused.
Phantom Thief Red is, as the name implies, a robber. But not an ordinary robber. Red could sneak into any place in Japan, even the most closely guarded, and never get caught. And last (but definitely not least), Red only steals from bad guys!
Red’s a fearless phantom thief, just like Lupin and Kid.
The only difference is, Red isn’t a character in a manga or a book. Red is real.
A real live phantom thief. Not that I’d met them or anything.
Since Red seems to be one of the good guys, they’re always making the front page on the local newspapers and trending on the internet…or so I’ve heard. I don’t use the internet, and the only part of the paper I read is the TV listings. Everything I just said about Red, I heard from my friend Misaki.
“Oh, good,” Dad went on. “I figured you might not have heard of them since you don’t read the paper.”
“I do too read the paper!”
Y’know, just the part about what’s on TV.
“Sorry, my bad. Kei, I assume you’ve heard of Red?”
“Yeah…,” Kei said.
He sounded sleepy. Wonder if he stayed up late. I saw him holding back a yawn a second ago.
Dad stopped talking and threw Uncle K a glance.
What did that mean?
“I’m going to tell you something, and I want the two of you to stay calm,” Dad said.
He was so serious about this that I was starting to get nervous.
“The truth is…”
“Uh-huh?” I sat very still.
“…Phantom Thief Red is me and Uncle Keiichiro.”
Wait, what?
What did he just say? Phantom who is what…??
“H-h-hey, Dad, at least smile if you’re gonna make a crazy joke!”
You can’t just string us along with that buildup—it’s not fair!
“…I’m not joking, Asuka. Although, I can see why you’d think I was,” he said calmly, after a pause.
Dad’s always kidding around, but Uncle K is more the quiet type. I couldn’t really see him getting in on a prank this elaborate.
…So was it true?
Dad and Uncle K were Phantom Thief Red?
My mouth dropped open.
Now that I thought about it, Dad did tend to disappear on “work trips” for days at a time, even though he was a cook at an Italian restaurant. It was a little fishy.
Were those trips what I was thinking they were?
I looked over at Kei, hoping he’d save me. Not that I would normally want to ask for his help, but I was running out of options.
He didn’t look any friendlier than a minute ago.
“Okay, let’s say it’s true—so what? Why are you telling us this?” Kei asked.
He was infuriatingly calm. Still, I was glad at least one of us was.
“Y-yeah! Even if you guys are Phantom Thief Red—and that’s a big if—why are you telling us your secret?”
Dad smiled and nodded, like he thought that was a great question.
“Because starting tomorrow, the two of you are going to be Phantom Thief Red.”
Tomorrow, we’re going to be… Huh?
It took a good ten seconds for that to sink in.
“What? Wait a second! What are you talking about?!” I asked, leaning over the table. I glanced at Kei. Even he looked surprised.
“We never told you this, but our family have been phantom thieves for generations. There are rumors the Rat Brat was one of our ancestors.”
“The Rat Brat?”
We have rodents in the family?
I glanced at Kei—maybe he would know what the heck Dad was talking about. His dull eyes were now wide-open and bright with interest.
“Jirokichi was known as the Rat Brat,” he explained calmly. “He was one of the great thieves of the Edo days, a couple hundred years back. People say he robbed more than a hundred samurai houses and stole more than ten thousand ryo. That’d be worth millions today. They say he was like Robin Hood, robbing the rich to give to the poor.”