Hi there! Go Amuto :3

Welcome to my first ever Shugo Chara fic. It will, of course be AU since anyone who has read any of my other works knows I write mostly AU.

Ikuto is a sexy beast and Amu is the one he likes, so hell, just put them together since they're both so cute anyways. :P

Alright, read and review!

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Stolen

Part One:

Black and White Lifestyle

Wishing for something, somehow

You can hear the voice calling those two souls, in the bottom of your the heart

Come on, grasp that outstretched hand

Right now it's not the time to stand still

In this monochrome world...

-Metamorphose by Asriel

It had been then. Probably at least seven years ago.

Amu Hinamori was packing. This place held far too many memories, memories that now pained her.

She sighed heavily and wearily. The now 26 year old woman had once been a lovely and very famous author at the tender age of 19. People had practically worshiped the ground she walked on, and yet she herself could have cared less.

She strode over to her desk, making sure she had all of her notebooks.

She felt a pang in her heart as she found the one journal she had stowed away in anger and sadness, disgusted at the pain in her heart whenever she glanced at it.

She tenderly pressed her forehead to the journal, feeling tears sting her eyes as she closed them.

She knew this would be something she would forever cry about. She had known, yet she forced herself to hold the sadness in, to pull through for her career and most of all, for herself. She didn't want to tear herself apart over something like this.

Yet it wasn't. He was the most significant part of her life, it wouldn't ever be easy to get over him...

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Sleep would not come.

She focused on the steady ticking of the clock and breathed evenly, closing her eyes and hoping for her tired body to win over her wide awake mind.

Not to her surprise, it didn't happen.

Her eyes flew open and she sat straight up in bed, running one hand through her messy, bubblegum pink locks. She glanced blearily at the clock with heavy-lidded golden eyes. 12:32 AM. She had to wake up early tomorrow so she and her editor could talk about her next book.

Rubbing her eyes as she yawned, she stood up and shuffled over to her desk, turning on the lamp and sitting contentedly in the cushioned chair. She flexed her fingers before reaching for where she kept her pens and pencils.

Snatching a pencil at random, she then turned to a stack of notebooks that were practically as tall as her desk.

In many of these notebooks were short stories, song lyrics, or poetry she tended to write when it was late like this and her mind just couldn't rest. A curse, she figured, for being an author.

She placed the tip of the pencil at the top of a fresh, blank page biting her lip and scrunching her forehead as she tried to sift through the many ideas that were in her mind.

Shaking her head, she leaned back, chewing on the end of the pencil lightly as she stared at the dark ceiling, dimly illuminated by the light of her desk lamp.

Despite being 19 years of age, she had become a talented and fairly well-known author. Her career had started off with short stories, and before she knew it, she was writing novels and the year was not yet over. She usually finished writing quickly since she almost never got writer's block. In high school, her teachers called her essays 'masterpieces' or 'simply flawless.' Thus she was labeled as a prodigy at the end of her junior year. Writing had always been a passion of hers, but being a prodigy? Her? She had thought it very unlikely at the time. It just wasn't something she could easily comprehend.

Sitting up again, for the first time in a long time, she decided she didn't know what to write. Despite the fact that she knew sleep would not come very quickly, there was no other option.

Sighing, she placed her pencil on top of the open page and turned the lamp off before shuffling back over to bed and curling up underneath the covers.

Amu Hinamori. One of the youngest popular authors. The prodigy.

She buried her face in her pillow.

She had never once believed any of these labels people gave her. Not even once.

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Amu blinked against the harsh sunlight that filtered in through her window.

Sitting up in bed, she rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock at her bedside. Exactly 9 AM. The same time she woke up every morning.

Yawning and stretching, she shuffled to the kitchen to get some breakfast. She had about another three hours before classes began, so it should be fine. She groaned as she remembered she had that meeting with her editor.

It wasn't that she minded her editor, she was a rather friendly older woman and Amu was fond of her, it was just that meetings with her editor lasted for so long Amu began to tire of them and found them rather troublesome. The woman could talk for hours without tiring.

She stood musing to herself as she waited for the chime on the toaster that signaled the toast was ready. Her life wasn't complicated; it never had been. If anything, it had always been cut and dry and rather simple. Sure, it was not easy task finishing four novels in one year, but there was no confusion on where her life was going. She would wake up, go to school, do something related to her book or writing, then sleep. The next day would be very similar, and so would the next, and the one after that. Her life was an unending cycle that never changed.

Her life could be compared to a black and white painting. No color, just varying shades of the two colors, and it was so...dull. Yes, that was her life exactly. Black and white, and not much in between.

She pulled the two pieces of sufficiently browned toast from the toaster and placed the two between her teeth as she went outside to get the newspaper. She munched on the toast as she gathered the daily newspaper and a magazine and flipped open the front page.

Lately, the news had been covering a story about a thief. Not just any thief, but a thief who had stolen millions of dollars worth of valuables.

As she entered her house again and sat down comfortably in an armchair, crossing her legs as she unfurled the newspaper, scanning the inside pages. Finding nothing of great importance (spare a few reviews of her books which she read on occasion), she flipped to the front page. As expected, it was the thief. They had somehow managed to get a photograph of him. She almost choked on her toast when she saw it.

Amu was the kind of person who would assume evildoers were hideous on the outside as well on the inside. Or at least, that was how she wrote them. But this photograph...was completely unexpected.

Although the picture wasn't very clear and ironically in black and white, she couldn't see clearly. However, from what she could see, this thief was...well, stunning. For a guy, anyway.

He had a smirk that was both mischievous and sexy. Dark eyes, dark hair, and that smirk as he fled. It was almost as though he had deliberately smiled at the camera during the capture of this picture. What a guy.

Shaking her head at the nerve, she closed the newspaper and brushed the crumbs off her hands as she stood, stretching.

She returned to her room to change, and figured that a walk in the town would be nice. Then she could head right to school, no problem.

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Exhausted. So very, very, exhausted. That was the only thought in her head as she dragged herself out of her editor's office. So exhausted.

Her classes today had been especially difficult, and her editor had not helped by telling her to start on her new book today. All she wanted was to go home, and just collapse on her bed without having to think. Then remembering that she had a long walk home, she groaned quietly as she exited the building.

The street lamps were on and the night sky wasn't as dark as it could be. The moon was full, for which she was somewhat grateful. Pulling her schoolbag more comfortably over her shoulder, she set off down the sidewalk to make the journey home.

Most young people her age were driving. But no, her parents had never allowed her even think about driving, much less letting her get a license. That was something that she had always been teased about. She was teased about a lot of things, so much so that she felt mostly immune.

She blinked tiredly, walking slowly as she half dragged her feet. It would be a miracle if she made it home. Maybe she could just crash in some alleyway...

Or perhaps not. She did have some dignity.

Something about tonight felt very unnerving. What it was she couldn't quite tell, but she felt uncomfortable, and that woke her up a little. She stood a little straighter and picked up her feet a bit.

Amu did not like this uneasy feeling. Something just didn't sit right with her, but she couldn't quite figure out what it was.

She was unaccustomed to feeling such discomfort. The tiring walk home had always been the same. It was always just tiring.

And that was it—it never was anything else other than tiring. Clutching her bag closer to her side as her eyes darted around nervously, she picked up her pace even more, taking longer, faster strides. She was hardly paying much attention to her surroundings.

Before she knew it, she was running. Her hear was pounding, her breathing ragged and her already weary legs felt heavy and sore.

When had she started being chased? But there was unmistakably someone behind her; she could see whoever it was out of the corner of her eye.

She was just in front of an alley when she stopped, too tired to run anymore, throwing cautious glances over her shoulder to ensure her pursuer wasn't anywhere near her.

With a sigh of relief, she leaned against the cold, brick wall, panting.

What on earth was that? Who would chase a stupid 19-year-old like herself, who clearly didn't have an incredible amount of money? (Sadly, it was true, she was sorely underpaid for all the writing she did; they had told her until she wrote more and became more popular than her pay would increase.)

When she looked up to check out her surrounding, she noticed something she hadn't before.

There were police cars all around here. Whether parked or circling the area, they were here.

But why?

She stepped a little out of the alley to check, and perhaps have a word or two about her pursuer.

She soon found herself flying backwards into the alley, pinned against someone with a warm broad chest. Their hands were securing her in place; one over her mouth, the other tightly around her waist.

She felt her heartbeat rapidly increase, fear widening her eyes. Her bag lay discarded by the entrance of the alleyway.

It felt like hours, but as soon as the police drove away, she felt her captor sigh in relief.

"I'm not a kidnapper I'll have you know, but I can't have you blow my cover either. So I'll let you go if you keep your mouth shut."

A deep voice, definitely that of a man (but what a voice!) sounded close to her right ear, making her shiver.

"Well?"

She nodded as best as she could.

"Good girl."

As promised, her released her.

Gasping as she stumbled, finally falling to the ground on her bottom.

Shivering, she looked up at her captor, and her jaw dropped.

It was him. That thief. The one that all the police are after. The sexy one.

And he was definitely even better in person.

He looked a little tired and pale, if anything, but that didn't dull the mischievous twinkle in his dark indigo eyes nor the luster of his midnight blue hair.

He arched an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

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I'll leave it at there for now.

I feel lightheaded and dizzy right now, so that's all for now o.x

Okies, review dear readers! Please?