Because no one knows my muse better than I do.
Monthly Archives: June 2013
“Who knows, Hakuba? You have more knowledge of some of their motives and methods than I.” KID chuckled and continued sipping it. He noted the lack of comment on something they’d discussed when he was Kuroba. Maybe to avoid conflict involved and avoid fainting again? After all, that could also remind Hakuba of that matter involving Kudou and he fainted. (That still surprised him.)
“Well, I am glad to hear there aren’t hard feelings, my dear detective.” He had noted the way Hakuba drank so quickly. It struck him as odd, but it was wiser to hold his tongue at the moment. “Care to sit down and relax?”
The detective nursed the second drink, taking his time, though he remained standing by the coffee table despite the invitation. The situation, tense as it was for him, made him long for a cigarette. He liked the way KID said his name.
“In a moment, Kaitou-san…” he said between sips. The warmth had spread, coloring his pale English complexion a shade- barely noticeable. Hakuba set the drink down and removed his suit jacket, laying it over the arm of the couch.
He hadn’t stopped thinking about the conversation about Kudou, Conan, and Kuroba. It was all that he could think about, aside from the nagging thoughts about Hattori’s predicament, and even then… Kuroba’s admission, subtle as it was, stuck with him. After all, it was an important moment that he’d worked very hard for. While overshadowed somewhat by the still difficult-to-understand situation with his detective colleague, Hakuba still felt the gravity of it. Yet, Kaitou had asked the same questions. What was he getting at? It troubled him.
“You, ah… asked why I hadn’t turned you in… though we’ve been over it already. Am I to understand that you should like to hear my confession again? I won’t put it in writing, I can tell you that right now.” The hesitant detective offered a faint, but playful smirk. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind doing so if you were to likewise give a more… official – only between us – confession of your own.”
Ah, he wanted a trade.
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“Thank you, detective. And, indeed you are.” KID took the glass and sipped it. The burn on his tongue and warmth down his throat was alien, but enjoyable. He sat down on the bed, crossing a leg over the other.
“Mmm. It is a wonderful night, is it not? I have to ask, though, why you didn’t just slap me or attempt to arrest me on the spot instead of following. I am the thief you chased for so long, who’s eluded your grasp and made you look like a fool. At the very least, I apologize for that. I don’t intend to harm your or other detectives’ reputations, but I would rather not see a jail cell.
“But I will admit that I am confused.” KID smirked. Even though he was using a poker face, this really did baffle him and he wanted to know.
“No apologies necessary… at least on my behalf."
Hakuba watched KID from the table, mind straying at the thought of him, on the bed, what they could do. He drank the scotch quickly, finishing the shot in one pull so that he could pour another. He would definitely need it tonight.
"Every ‘failure’ is an invaluable opportunity to learn. Each time represented the chance to test my theories, to look for reactions, details, weaknesses… It’s… rather scientific, really, I’m not certain why my colleagues are so concerned about their short-comings. It’s not as if this were a homicide case… it’s relatively low-risk to study you, in the end.”
He drank again. The familiarity of the drink soothed him, more for the ritual of doing it than the alcohol – though that also played a factor. What he’d said was true, but only one part of what KID wanted to know. How long could he avoid it?
“I-I am calm Hakuba-kun…” Kazuha replied quietly her eye began to twitch slightly from him wiping at her cheek wit the dry handkerchief. It somewhat stung and felt as if every time he’d swiped around it – the cut ripped open further. Though she highly doubted that was the case, she was probably just being a big baby so she’d decided against saying anything.
Kazuha felt exhausted as she’d sat stiller than she’d ever been just staring at the detective’s facial features. He’d looked so calm and caring? Why did he care so much anyways, it wasn’t like they had ever been great friends and Heiji practically spat nonsense about him constantly… Yet still, he was here. Helping her…
Kazuha let a small weak smile appear to her ghostly pale skin before she began fighting herself to keep her eyes opened.
“I-I think…I-I’m ready fer…a nap now…Hakuba-kun” Kazuha began to whisper quietly “Thank ya, fer looking after meh though…”
At that point Kazuha’s body had physically given up and she’d fallen sideways. At least now, she really was calm…
All of this over a grazed cheek. Hakuba sighed, carefully guiding the girl to the ground. At least she wasn’t screaming. The trauma from the scare was understandable, but… Ah, well, Hakuba couldn’t expect anyone to really be used to this sort of thing.
The detective touched the handkerchief to her cheek again, then made sure that his suit jacket covered her, before getting to his feet. There was blood on his jacket; it’d be a pain to clean, but at least nothing worse had happened thus far.
The paramedics, security guard, and police would arrive soon. This was confirmed, and he turned his mobile from phone to flashlight again, continuing his investigation. Now, who would have done this? What motivation would someone have for killing Kazuha?
My Fear, My Shame
Just who does that Osakan think he is?
Really. Hattori Heiji, detective. How did I come to loathe him so? Why does he have to be so reckless and coarse? I’ve gone back and forth between hating the brute and trying to let it go so many times in the past few weeks that I can’t seem to get my head to stop spinning.
I’ve already gone through this month’s pack of cigarettes and into my secret backup stash. At this rate, my father is sure to discover… I shouldn’t be so careless. The more I indulge, the less sensitive I am to the smoke, and it does cling…
God, what am I doing?
Insult my intelligence all ya want…I don’ need big words ta make my point… But ya’d know all ‘bout that, wouldn’ ya? How somethin’ so simple as a cross can inject fear like a syringe injects hot air inta an IV line?
How could I have let him see the cross? Of all of the people to discover it… My head is throbbing just thinking about it. It’s a symbol of faith and protection, yet Hattori compares it to self-induced air embolism. Surely he must know…
But then, does the cross really protect if the wearer is entrenched in sin? If he’s unfaithful and unrepentant and living lie after lie after lie? Koizumi-san asked if I was a man of logic. I am. I believe that I am, and yet…
Why do I carry this symbol if I don’t even know what I believe anymore? The people of this country, Japan… Many wonderful people who life rich, fulfilling, wholesome lives without any regard to a rosary. Are they to be condemned? I can’t imagine any real God could be so cruel. But for myself, I know, I am bound for Hell.
I wear the cross as if it were a shameful secret. And it is. I dread the thought of my colleagues making the discovery. Now that Hattori-san knows, I’m certain it won’t be long…
…Though, he doesn’t seem to remember that night. At least that part. Did he forget on my behalf? Has God spared me the awful truth of-
No, that doesn’t make sense. No sense at all. Not in any way, shape, or form. I’m writing nonsense.
That flash of silver in the rain betrayed me.
….the flash of silver, similar to the lighter – ah, the cross! The cross is the key.
Damn the cross! Damn Hattori! I am not Javert. I am not Val Jean. I have no noble aspirations; I survive only to be punished to atone for my life, praying and pleading to die and leave this miserable and cold, lonely place.
Cambridge. They’d told me to go to Cambridge and become a lawyer. I’d wanted to. If I had been stronger, more obedient, would I be there now? Would I loathe myself more than… more than that man, or–?
I don’t belong here. Not here, not in London. Ramson is in prison where he should be, yet those in the court plead for his release. How could they? Forgiveness in all things, yet…
Yet I cannot forgive.
Circular logic, trapped and drowning. What to do? Everything aches. I haven’t been able to work, sleep, or eat. More and more my associates ask if I ever relax. KID, too. I don’t have any answer for them. How can I relax when everything is at the verge of crumbling apart? Everything I’ve worked for, struggled to maintain?
Paris.
Paris in a forty-seven days. I can last that long. Surely, I can. I’ll drink until everything is numb and let the city take me. A brief reprieve. I am strong enough.
Perhaps I’ll give that terrible symbol to La Seine with Notre-Dame herself as the witness! No longer keeping it… caged in my ribs.. and no longer upon my shoulders… or whatever that nonsense Hattori was spouting.
God… God, I need something stronger than scotch tonight. I must figure out how to help Hattori-san.
KID grinned. He had also dropped the act by this point. “Sure, detective.”
Might as well. It was a rare occasion. It wasn’t every day that Hakuba took you up to his workplace to do anything but ordinary work, especially when you were a criminal he chased. “I really must say, you have bitten off quite a bit. Sharing drinks in a suite with an international thief?”
KID nuzzled Hakuba’s neck, leaving light kisses on it. Yup. Dangerous. Hakuba would end up his Underdown instead of his Holmes or Ganimard at this rate. Not that he cared. As long as he didn’t get sloppy with his thieving, he’d be fine.
It was easier to accept the affection here than on the rooftop. Privacy certainly helped, but having the uncertainty of returning to affection brushed away so casually by KID – that really made the difference. Still, Hakuba was troubled as he turned his head to kiss back at the other boy, somewhat distractedly reaching for the bottle of scotch. It didn’t feel right to be here with him, as if KID were some common conquest.
But practicality won him over in the end, and he opened the bottle after a moment, pouring a shot into two of the four glasses present.
“I’m an international detective, am I not? And I rather like a glass of scotch now and again. Having such fine company only makes it that much better.”
He offered KID a glass, and took one for himself.
KID accepted the card happily and slipped it into his pocket. Well, at least he knew this wasn’t likely a trap. This was a suite that didn’t seem like something meant for work, which surprised him on some level. He slipped off his shoes and stretched.
“Oh, really?” He walked over and looked at the drinks. That’s right, those ravens and crows used alcohol as their names. At least there was no need to worry about the circling ravens. Not tonight, anyway.
“I have it mentioned in my membership profile to have drinks already in the room. Scotch, usually, and half a dozen extra tea packets.”
Hakuba closed the door behind him and locked it, more out of habit than anything. Then, turning to come into the room, he let out a sigh of relief, and the cold professionalism left him.
“You, ah, might like the view. The balcony should have enough standing room to see the West side of the city, I believe. I’m not sure why they call it a balcony, exactly; there’s not even enough room for a table, but…"
Deep breath.
"Would you like a drink?”
Name the person you hate most.
“…Amos Ramson.”
“Yeah, she told me. We’ve known each other since we were children so really there’s very little that she won’t tell me. But she’s not the one who wants to rant and rave about it.”
He gave him a sheepish smile. “Hattori wouldn’t shut up about you for weeks after he met you so I feel like I’m already a little biased toward you. But don’t worry. Hattori is just stubborn and hot headed. I have to take most of what he says with a grain of salt anyway. When he’s mad about something at least.
“But I think he was more mad that the brat figured it out before he did. Though I hear you were both really close. It happens.”
He didn’t want Hakuba to think he was actually going to listen to Heiji’s ramblings.
“Ah… Hattori-san…"
Of course that bastard Osakan would talk about him behind his back. And to Kudou Shinichi, no less.
Hakuba hesitated to respond after that, despite the reassurances and encouragement. The comment about the ‘brat’ was his only saving grace. The foreign detective swallowed awkwardly, then shrugged his shoulders.
"Hattori-san and I don’t exactly see eye to eye, it’s true. I… apologize if I’ve done anything to offend, through Hattori-san or otherwise. Ah… oh. Do you perhaps mean Edogawa-kun? He was deserving. I have no qualms about that.”