After an overly emotional (on his mother’s part) goodbye, a hurried rush to the London/Heathrow airport, security lines, and two long flights – with a layover in Dubai, customs, and more security,  Hakuba made it back to Japan. And, after an expensive taxi cab, found his way back to the estate that he shared with his father and Baaya. 

It was early evening. He took his tea with the rest of the family and then went to his room. But, despite the long and exhaustive hours of travel, the detective could not sleep. So out the window it was, careful to avoid the hedges, and onto the city streets for a walk in the dark to clear his head and wear himself out. 

He didn’t want to be back in Tokyo. London didn’t hold anything for him, either. And Paris… well, there was only so long he could be in Paris with his passport, all things considered. Running to France would only be running away from his problems, anyway… and knowing that others knew that was enough to make him think twice. 

Dammit. 

But he was ‘home’ in a sense. Home and jet-lagged and wandering. Maybe he just needed a good, stiff drink. So much for being perfect.