He watched him. An unjustifiable anger had settle in his throat when he saw the boxes and it took him everything he had to remember that he had sent Hakuba off. That this was going to be one of the last times he got to see the detective. He shook himself somewhat free from the anger and walked over to where the detective was knelt.
That reaction was part of why Hakuba had kept himself so focused on the lockbox, quietly opening it without bothering to make sure that Kaito was even watching. Inside were a handful of photos held together with a silver paperclip, an opened pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes, large hunting knife in leather sheath, a polished silver horse shoe, and a flash drive… but the thing that Hakuba sought was the monocle carefully placed on a folded piece of velvet.
This he brought out and laid in one of his palms while he closed the box and set it aside, taking a deep breath before finally turning toward Kaito.
“I… wanted to tell you that this, and your admission, meant a great deal to me,” Hakuba said softly, swallowing back the tension in his throat. “So much more than I can really express, but I… well, it was closure that I’d lost hope of ever finding. But, ah, I know how much your father meant to you, so I…” He held it out to him with the smallest of smiles. “I’d like to give it back to you.”