Monthly Archives: September 2014

by

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

The minute the knock resound Kaito was cursing. After catching the soldering iron to an already scarred part of his index finger he want to throw his half finished glider towards the offending sound. Climbing off the stool he worked his way through the metal pipes and white sail cloth towards the large framed photo that acted like a door. Dark grey sweat pants hung low on his hips as he snagged a white tee shirt and red zip up hoodie.

Half hoping who ever had dropped by had left in the time he got down stairs he opened the door smoothly and looked out.

“Hakuba?!” He exclaimed.

There he was, Kuroba Kaito in all of his… casual glory. Hakuba tilted his head just a few degrees to the left, looking him over with a vague sort of expression of disbelief. He caught himself in a heartbeat, though, and shook his head to set things right again, forcing a wincing smile in an attempt to be pleasant.

“Ah, Kuroba-kun! I’m… sorry for interrupting your day. I… was wondering if… well, wait, let me start again.” Hakuba cleared his throat with a tiny, awkward cough, and forced his smile to be just a little bit wider. “What I meant to say was… It’s been a while, Kuroba-kun; how’ve you been?”

by

The Interim || smokebombsandmirrors

Why was he doing this…?

It’d been two weeks since he’d graduated from Ekoda high, finishing his GED at not quite but NEARLY at the top of his class. Two weeks since he’d seen the so-called friends (they were more like acquaintances, really) in class. No one had contacted him since, but he’d never expected them to. 

Really, since leaving school, things had never been quite so lonely, and it upset him. He had no one at home, no friends, and not having the grueling Japanese school schedule left him with far too much free time to be happy or healthy. Especially with so many decisions to make.

And time was running out.

That was why he stood in front of Kuroba Kaito’s house that afternoon, nervously fumbling with his keys before trading them for the pocket watch. Hakuba glanced at it, then at his wrist watch, then the door, then his pocket watch again before snapping it closed and slipping it back into his pocket once more. He could do this. He was Hakuba Saguru, after all; famous international detective. Young prodigy. A genius. Wasn’t he? 

Regardless of their actuality, Hakuba felt like a fool as he knocked on the front door. An imbecile, even. Why this person? Kuroba had more reasons to despise him than most, but he was the only one that he could think of who might be remotely intelligent and honest enough to help him. It wouldn’t end well, he knew that. He wasn’t welcome at the Kuroba’s door, but he waited anyway. Waited and hoped, fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt. 

by

littledetective:

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   ”A dog?” He didn’t recall seeing one — not one of that description, anyway. Had he seen one without an owner, he would have made it a point to remember. “No, not around here. Is it yours?”

   He wouldn’t have pegged Hakuba as the dog type, but — then again — he hardly knew anything about him.

“Oh, I wish! I love goldies, though the dogs I have are both back in London.” Hakuba smirked, thinking fondly back to the aforementioned canines, but then shook his head. “No, this is a client’s dog – it has something attached to its collar that they’d like back. Unfortunate that you haven’t seen her, though…”

He glanced up and down the street, then back, smile fading. “Any idea where a dog-sized water source might be around here?”