“…goodness, you’ve been busy.” Hakuba stared down at the tray, shifting ever so carefully to pick up the tray and bring it closer. This kind of breakfast was no easy means to come by in Japan outside of home cooking, but… The detective couldn’t help the eager smile that slid onto his admittedly softened expression, once again touching the rose, and the note. 

“Why are you doing this for me?” Hakuba asked to no one. The breakfast was hot, yes; everything was perfect. But if it really was who he thought it was, they would be long gone by now. And instead of search, he tucked into that breakfast, completely unable to resist the call of those tomatoes and mushrooms and everything else.