“Hmm…” Kaito got up and headed over to the kitchen, ignoring the vague chill creeping into his extremities. “We may not have any British teas, but I’ll see what I can do.” He then looked for a tea kettle, grinning in a vaguely amused way. If he were able to go back in time and tell his past self (from when Hakuba was overly antagonistic) this, that would’ve been priceless.
After finding it behind a pot, he filled it up with water and set it on the stove, trying to turn it on. He frowned and turned the switch back to the off position, then back to the on position. After a moment, he headed over and tried flipping the light on, to no avail. He headed back to the living room and sat back down next to Hakuba. “Uh, strike that. The power’s out.”
Certainly, Hakuba’s current state would amuse several previously-antagonized parties. When Kaito left for the kitchen, the detective let out a breath and finally took a seat on the couch. He stayed on the edge of the cushion, and as far to the left as possible, and stared at the carpet ahead tiredly.
It didn’t matter if it was Earl Grey or not. He’d long since learned to get by with any sort of tea, be it green, oolong, chai, whatever. As long as it was hot and in a cup of some sort, he would be fine. Milk and sugar only made it better. It was the simple act of holding a warm tea cup in one’s hands, and spreading that warmth throughout the body with gentle pulls that made it calming. Made it wonderful.
Tea would set things right. Tea always set things right. Hakuba managed a small smile as he told himself this.
So when Kaito returned with the bad news, the heartbreak on his face was something akin to the shattering of a million small children’s dreams, dashed upon the pavement and dragged under a tractor for fourteen miles.
“Ah…” was all he managed to say, turning to look at the thief in disguise next to him. And then, after a faint whimper. “That’s all right. Th-thank you, anyway."
Then silence and more shivering. Somehow, the world had suddenly become a much colder place.