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This love letter didn't have a name attached to it, just a lengthy monologue about the author's deep and abiding passion for Dekana's spirit and their lamenting their inability to breach the distance between them for fear of shattering the perfect image they so deeply, desperately cherished. Frankly, Dekana rather thought the whole thing was a prank pulled by one of his peers but he was also curious about the moonstruck, lovelorn person's devotion... if it was real, were they a stalker? Or was it genuine love? He had no idea and either way he wanted to inform them that while their words were beautiful and their distant advance kind, he probably wasn't interested.

Then again, he wasn't really sure what would interest him. He just knew that love notes from (probably) deranged stalkers were not the swiftest way to his heart. What, then, would he like? Forward and genuine, surely, confident... someone who liked pranks as much as he did? Dekana pursed his lips thoughtfully as he wandered the corridors of the museum, glancing at the exhibits every now and then. The letter had said to meet here, in front of the heart display, but he'd stood around for an hour and not a soul had come to speak to him.

It was frustrating and not a little dissapointing. Someone was probably having a good laugh at him right now, convinced he'd actually been hoping for a romance of the century. The shadow panther scoffed and slid his hand into his pocket only to discover that his scarephone was missing. A thrill of genuine fear coursed through him, causing his heart to pump hard enough he could feel it in his own chest. Where was his phone!? It was his lifeline, his connection to those of the school he'd actually felt the need to put in his contact list. Not to mention it was how people contacted him for duels and sparring practice... if he didn't have it, he'd be so far behind and out of the loop he'd never stand a chance of graduating with anybody he knew!

Never mind the disturbingly still-alive things squirming the green tanks, he needed his phone! And screw that letter of undying love, nobody had come for him, let alone had the courage to approach him, so they'd lost their chance. Oh well. Snooze you lose.

Quickly checking his remaining pockets, Dekana shook his head as he came up empty on all accounts. Had he put it down somewhere? Maybe... he had lingered at that heart display for a good long time before moving on. Maybe he's set it on a step or shelf there... and hopefully it was still there when he returned.

He hurried through the exhibits, checking each pause point along the way to make sure he hadn't absent-mindedly left it somewhere. Everything was, unforunately, empty and when he got back to the heart display... nothing was immediately visible. His heart sank as he drew up to his spot found nothing either on the little stand of the narrow shelf immediately beside the tank.

Shoulders sinking, Dekana sank into a sitting position, leaning up against the tank with a saddened expression. That phone was super important and he wasn't sure he could get another. And this was all because of that stupid anonymous letter that had called him to this Jack forsaken place. Grumbling, he patted his knees and stood, his tail lashing in obvious echo of his discontent.

As he stepped, however, something skidded at his feet as if he'd nudged it. Looking down, he discovered his lost scare phone, it's black surface blending in quite well with the black tiles of the floor. Somebody had said they'd used black so that when the tanks burst and the monsters crawled forth, it was harder to see the grime on the ground.

Making a retching noise, Dekana retrieved it, wiped it on his thigh and stuck the much missed phone back into its home pocket.

The mysterious man or woman could remain mysterious for all he cared.