Monthly Archives: June 2013

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Fancy Feline Hour 02/04

Somehow, the terrain under Hakuba’s paws had turned from cement and asphalt to grass and sod. He blinked, glancing at his surroundings. He was in a park of some kind… one ten or fifteen minutes away from the court house by foot. He flexed his claws, curious at the bits of bark that fell from them. Had he been in a tree? 

It was then that he noticed the tangy, metallic taste in his mouth, and the feathers that gathered at his feet. 

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He spit the catch out and to the grass, but by then it was far too late. The sparrow was only partially there, and if Hakuba had to guess, the other half was in his stomach. With a moan, he rubbed at his face furiously with a paw, trying in desperation to wipe the blood off. But none of it could erase his horror and despair.  

Oh God, I’ve killed again!

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Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito blinked, snapped out of his thoughts. “Oh, right… Uh, sure…” Noting the blush around Hakuba’s cheeks, he got up and headed off to his room. He grabbed a long-sleeved shirt and a blanket from his closet. Coming back, he sat down next to Hakuba again, holding out the shirt, with the blanket still under his arm. (After Hakuba was done, he planned to drape the blanket over them.)

“Do you wish for me to turn away to protect your modesty?” He grinned just a bit. “I don’t know if you have some weird British thing about changing shirts.”

Well, he didn’t have a weird thing about changing shirts until about fifteen seconds ago. But by that point, it was a matter of pride. Hakuba shook his head. “N-no… I don’t mind…”

Except that he did mind… because he was still wearing the cross. 

The detective hesitantly took the shirt and set it in his lap, reaching up to the collar of his current shirt to begin unbuttoning it. Why did he always have to wear button-up collared shirts? It would only prolong the agony. 

But maybe he could take it off when he took off the shirt? Some kind of sleight of hand witchcraft that would hide it. As the buttons came free, and subsequently the cross, he tried to palm it into his hand and hold it with his thumb while continuing the undressing. But the chain wasn’t that long, which soon became obvious. He let it go and braced for comment, hands fumbling to finish the job as quickly as possible so that he could peel the shirt from him, ignore the shining silver, and get the other shirt- which was sure to be snug- on. Which he’d do if not hindered in the process. 

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Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

“Yeah. And you feel frozen through. That can’t be healthy.” He nuzzled Hakuba just a bit. He was fond of touching, but he generally avoided it if he could. Getting too close emotionally to targets and detectives when thieving spelled trouble. This was unwise on his part, but he just wanted to enjoy it.

Likewise, Hakuba had committed to not getting involved with anyone that he had regular contact with… and Kaito definitely fit that bill. It was bad enough that he tried, at times, to be Kaito’s friend… and worse still that he didn’t do his duty and take down KID… and yet… and yet…

The detective’s blush deepened and he frowned, stiff against the nuzzling, trying not to enjoy it. Dammit, Kuroba-kun…  Why did he have to be so.. so infuriatingly attractive? Why was he just barely obnoxious enough to be fun and interesting instead of infuriating? 

“Ah.. n-no… it… can’t.”  Think, Hakuba, think. Rational, logical solutions to the problem at hand. “Do you have a blanket, perhaps? Or, ah, a shirt I could change into.. just until my clothes dry?" 

Yes, suggest that you get half naked- with blankets! Brilliant.

"T-to ward off… potential hypothermia.. of course.”

God, the nuzzling. There was no way that Hakuba would survive this unscathed. 

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Fancy Feline Hour 01/04

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Having had no luck removing the cross, Hakuba instead went about folding his clothing to stash, with the briefcase, underneath a bench on the walkway. It was a lot of effort, and he wasn’t sure what he would do when he turned back into his human self, but… at least it was less likely that his personal belongings would be stolen this way. 

Feeling somewhat accomplished, he hopped up onto the bench and looked around. Hunger. Overpowering hunger. He wiped a paw over his nose with a sniff. Really, it was remarkable how much he could relate to the 1926 Cox novel ‘The Professor on Paws’ at that very instant. 

Hakuba huffed, then leaped off the bench and strolled toward the sidewalk. Food. Food. Food. 

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Not This Again… M!A ACTIVATED!

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It was a lovely, sunny  afternoon when Hakuba took a cab into the city. From there, he proceeded on foot to the bank, his accountant’s office, and to the court house, which was his last stop before meeting his father for a very late lunch. Business went as planned, no surprises, everything  precisely on time and as expected. 

He stepped out of the court house doors and turned on his mobile, gazing from the top of the steps down to the busy streets below. A perfect day, really. No Hattori Heiji, no overblown heists, and no violent serial killers on his tail. 

A new email message popped up on the screen once the data connection had been established. It was from his father. 

‘Saguru – going to be late. Five o’clock okay instead?’

The teenage detective sighed, but smiled fondly. He’d expected – and planned – for this. It would give him two hours to stop by the used bookshop and the little French cafe next to it. Tea, a ‘new’ book, and a halfway decent eclair? Heaven! 

He called the senior Hakuba back, assured him that it was fine, fine, perfectly fine, and then took a moment to appreciate life as he put his phone away.  

But then… Something about the way the wind felt against his skin felt off.  And there was the distinct feeling of wrong in his stomach. He frowned. Dizziness, heart fluttering, and.. What.. ?

Hakuba staggered to a column to steady himself, briefcase clattering to the ground after slipping from his sweaty palms. He struggled to pull air into his lungs without any sort of success, gasping helplessly, and then-

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Shit.

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Oh bloody hell, this again?

The white Turkish Angora crept out from the pile of clothing that he left behind, frowning in disdain. Wandering cats were against city ordinance, and he was without license, tags, or collar. Though the crucifix necklace clung to his chest, snugly tangled in the fur around his neck, he was fairly certain that it would not count. 

This in mind, he started the task of removing it, sitting upright to make use of both paws… all while trying to ignore the fact that it looked unnatural and crazy and that he was on government property.

So much for his perfectly scheduled plans. But at least it wasn’t raining. 

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Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

“Sorry there’s no tea.” Kaito inched closer to Hakuba until their shoulders were touching. He noted the expression at the news of lack of tea, a bit surprised by it. So Hakuba really loved his tea. It was something he stored in the back of his mind, next to “Let Nakamori occasionally win if he’s feeling too down due to heists.”

He rested his head on Hakuba’s shoulder. This was probably unwise, but sharing body heat is something he didn’t mind. It was preferable to that nipping low-level cold that bit into one’s body during prolonged exposure to the rain. It was the kind of cold that settled into one’s bones and didn’t take to leaving so easily.

Hakuba was British, after all, and they were built to operate on tea dispersed at specific intervals, with extra here and there. The tea was nearly forgotten, however, at the physical contact. The detective glanced down at Kaito, eyes fluttering in momentary confusion and surprise.

“Ah, it’s… really… all right…” he said, stumbling over his words. Hakuba averted his gaze, looking toward the chair with his suit jacket awkwardly, blushing ever so slightly over his pale cheeks. He was cold, though; and the other teen’s warmth permeated through his damp shirt quite effectively and reminded him just how cold he really was. 

“Er, I suppose your heater’s out, then, isn’t it? It’s a bit cold out.”

There was a flash of light outside the window, and thunder roared only a couple of frantic heartbeats later. The more the storm progress, the darker it got, and Hakuba leaned back against Kaito, reluctantly. 

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Question 0005

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“Ah, I’m glad that you asked! The J stands for James, and is what I usually go by while in London — at least where academia is concerned.

“As you well may know, I come from a mixed heritage background. My father is Japanese and my mother is British. As with most things, they fought over what to name me for weeks. He wanted a good, strong Japanese name; she wanted a good, strong, English/Christian name. Papa won in the end, but Mum got her own small victory in compromise. 

“It’s not likely that you’ll hear me referred to as James around Tokyo, though; it’s quite difficult for the Japanese to pronounce. Almost as difficult as it is for the English to pronounce ‘Saguru,’ which has led to some very frustrating teasing from my classmates…” 

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Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

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“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. 

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OOC: A Detective Isn’t Happy Without A Case To Solve

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“No, this won’t do at all…”

(( This tumblr blog is finally all set up and ready for your questions, comments, and general nonsense! Please take a look or maybe send in a question for Hakubby to answer. You never know what might happen when a detective is left too long without a case to solve… he might start chewing on the furniture or set things on fire so, please, help! ))