Kaito had kept his pokerface up, but he was a bit irritated. Maybe it was the sarcasm and how Hakuba had him in a corner; the latter is a very bad thing for phantom thieves and left them wary and guarded. “If I am KID, than why haven’t you turned me in, if there’s so much insurmountable evidence?”
He went to get a phone. The thunder was still booming out and, when he picked up the phone, Kaito noted the dead silence on the other end. He headed back over to Hakuba. “Phone lines are down. But, uh, yeah, I’m free then.”
The question stunned the detective to silence, and when Kaito returned, Hakuba’s gaze was fixed on the floor. Suit jacket soaked, hair tangled and damp, and the almost morose frown on his face made him look almost like a dog who’d been reprimanded for tracking mud in.
After a moment, he shifted his gaze to Kaito again, hesitantly, before nodding.
“Ah.. I’ll let my father know, then… thank you.” His voice and tone were quiet, polite. “And, ah, in that case… might… you have a spare umbrella? It seems that mine was built for the gentle English rain, not…"
Hakuba winced as shaking thunder cut him off, and he turned his attention back to the floor, fidgeting with the towel in his hands.
"I’m sorry, Kuroba-kun.”