Kaito flinched at the sudden out burst and looked at the said tree. It was gaudy and way over the top but he was far to used to it by now to really care. As Hakuba continued to complain he felt his temper flare again. He couldn’t even find watching the detective’s mittens flying threw the sir and landing in the gutter funny like it normally would.
“Okay, Now look here, its not wrong, its just different! You don’t see me going to your country and pointing out everything that is different or weird or not how YOUR used to! So would you stop degrading everything in Japan!” He shouted and earned a few head turns and stares but he just ignored them and stood there feet planted, red faced, and panting.
December 24th, Last Year (“Brief and Unnecessary Comments from the Agent”)
“You are so insensitive. It serves you right.”
“…anyway, regardless if the validity of your statement…” Hakuba continued.
Last Week (“A Case of Chronic ‘Foot In Mouth’ Disease”)
If the yelling hadn’t gotten Hakuba to stop in his tracks, words evaporating in his mouth like his breath in the cold air, the stares certainly did. The detective became all too aware that, yes, they had attracted attention, and now the both of them were possibly even redder than the god-awful ‘Christmas’ tree.
But it wasn’t just the attention, either– those staring eyes, judging gazes, and critical whispers that Hakuba knew were circulating among the crowd. That he hated enough, yes, and felt the embarrassment spark every sense of panic and adrenaline response in him. And that made him notice something else.
There was nothing more attractive to a rowdy bullshitting detective than to be called out on said bullshit. Kaito did this often. And here he was, standing in the snow with messier, wilder hair, red-faced and handsome and screaming at him for being such an ass and it was somehow just as glorious as it was terrifying.
He hated it. He loved it. And Hakuba found himself nodding, bowing, and reaching to grab Kaito’s arm without any further delay to drag him, bodily, toward the closest, darkest alleyway.
“You’re right, you’re right, I’m so sorry, please accept my apologies, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just got caught up in the moment, and god, you’re so right…”
December 24th, Last Year (“Skepticism At Work”)
“…did you really apologize or are you just saying that to make yourself look better?”
“No!” Hakuba said, sitting up just a bit too fast, very narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the piano. “I really did say all of those things! I panicked! And he was right! I never disputed that!”
“So how do you get by, admitting that you’re a hypocrite, but not… changing, exactly?”
The detective sighed, flopping right back over again onto his back. “My life is a very difficult and complicated one, Jones…"
If only Hakuba could see the deadpan expression on his agent’s face at that moment…
"What did Kuroba think about being dragged into the dark alleyway by the foreign blond who looks like a predatory college student?”
“Ah, well…"