+ whiteknighthakuba is – wait, where?
Akira smiled at the receptionist, who checked the member of the small establishment in. She liked the place, tried to find time two or three times a week. Cozy, not terribly out of the way, perhaps a 10 or 15 minute walk from her apartment, and a fantastic ice cream shop next door. She entered and spread her mat out in her usual spot, middle of the room, off to the right. As the regulars filtered in, she spotted one newcomer – a tall blonde, too tall to be full Japanese (perhaps half?), and clutching a brand-new mat. He settled in, and oh.
A cursory glance at his mind’s contents revealed the inordinate amount of paperwork Nakamori-keibu had assigned the young man for the previous night’s KID heist, and this must be the infamous Hakuba Saguru in her hot yoga class. Delightful.
It had to be one of the most awkward situations that Hakuba had found himself in. Yes, he was wearing black biker shorts and a black tank top. No suit. No tie. No… no shoes. The shorts he was used to for tennis, sure. That was fine. These were even more concealing, but the tank top? And sitting on that mat. It was awkward. Beyond awkward.
The teenage detective glanced around himself warily, confirming the fact that he didn’t know anyone else in the entire room. This was both good and terrifying. Good in that he probably didn’t have to worry about dealing with anyone when he inevitably embarrassed himself, terrifying in that he didn’t know who he could ask help from.
At least Hakuba had managed to find a spot in the back of the group where he would (hopefully) go unnoticed by the rest of the class. Not that he didn’t stick out like a giant sore thumb, easily the tallest and palest in the class. Why had he agreed to this?
Oh, right. After fainting the other night (again), Baaya had taken him to the doctor. And, in exchange for continuing to supply him with cigarettes under the table, he had agreed to try yoga in an unnecessary attempt to reduce his stress levels. Really, that doctor was nuts. If they really wanted to fix him, they’d give him some kind of a medicine that could fix his anxiety. Or, perhaps, figure out that what he really needed was therapy. Not yoga.
Regardless, Hakuba was stuck in the class for the next six weeks at minimum in order to maintain a good relationship with his governess. But… at least he had his case files to think about. And the one he had to work on was of particular interest. Kaitou KID. A favorite subject.
He might have even smiled, thinking about the pages and pages of documents that he had to get read that night. Cross-referencing the previous heist notes and reports… fact-checking with his own database… All that he had to do was get through this god awful class and he would have several hours to do nothing but work.
Bliss.
Though, it was then that he noticed that many of the class were staring at him. “Ah…” he offered uselessly, then looked to the front of the room in embarrassment. Please start soon so I can go home…. please please please.