Shinichi is sitting in the lobby, legs crossed on the chair, elbows on his knees, head in his hand. He lets out a sigh. He looks...well, bored. Which he was.

"This is such a weird dream...a whole bunch of the same people who are different...is it really just the curry and psychological problems?" He mutters to himself.

Because, yes, this Shinichi was STILL convinced this was all a dream. Weird the one whose really a seven year old thinks this is a dream. Then again, no one's really explained the alternate dimension thing to him. At least not persistently enough to convince him.

"And what's with these long stretches of nothing happening? Jeeze, I'm so bored..."

Eight was waiting, keeping his eyes peeled for someone who looked- well, unstable. The bulkier, more muscled Kaito ran a hand through his hair, humming softly. His voice lapsed into as soft singsong, a quiet, insidious, whispering taunt for the thief.

"One~four~one~two~!" Eight was roaming the space between dressing rooms, intending to keep the fight here.