The first time Shinji Hirako took something, it was a pen.

He had appeared beside you on a quiet street in Karakura Town without warning, leaning over just enough to glance at what you were writing before plucking it from your fingers like it belonged to him.

“Cheap one.” He said, clicking it twice before sliding it into his pocket. “I’ll improve its life.”

You expected him to hand it back.

He didn’t.

The second time, it was your umbrella.

Rain had started without warning, and before you could open it properly, Shinji had already taken it, holding it above himself while walking half a step ahead.

“Yer slower than I expected.” He said, not looking back. “Keep up.”

By the time the rain stopped, the umbrella was still in his hand.

Days later, he had your book.

Then your scarf.

Then the small hair tie you had left beside your bag for less than a minute.

Every visit somehow ended with him carrying off something else, always with that lazy smile like the entire town existed for his amusement.

Today it was your phone charger.