by

Blond Humbug

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito spun on his heel and nearly slipped on ice again. He could feel the soles nearly give. He really need to get some with better treads. “Actually I do know. Some people can’t afford to drop 600 pounds much less 150 dollars on clothes. Now if you don’t mind I would like to get out of the cold before I bust my ass on ice and deal with you insulting me and my country any longer. So can we please just get back to the classroom in peace and one piece.”

He whirled back around and continued to storm off. 

December 24th, Last Year (The “Present”)

“Wait, let me get this straight.” Jones rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes.

It was an action which Hakuba had seen him perform many, many times in the past. It was easy to imagine it as he lay under the piano, recounting the story. “What?”

“So you were getting supplies for a Christmas party with your Japanese friend–”

“Classmate." Hakuba corrected him.

”–with your classmate who, again, is Japanese, while complaining about Japan, its people, customs, and differences?“

"And the snow. Don’t forget that.”

“I thought that was part of your narrative. Did you actually complain about the snow?”

Hakuba hummed. “I might have at some point, yes.”

Jones sighed. “So you were ranting and raving about how much you hate Japan–”

“I don’t hate Japan, I just don’t like it very much.”

“–regardless, you were doing this while in the company of your Japanese classmate, and then you critique his taste of clothing and criticize his financial standing?”

“Well…”  The blond looked up at the bottom of the piano, tracing fingers over the crayon drawings from so many years ago. Though he wasn’t certain of its actual bluebook value, he knew that it was somewhere in the range of $600-700k. Just for the piano. “To be honest, I just don’t think about that very often.”

“What, that not everyone is filthy rich like you?” Jones was snickering.

“Right. It just doesn’t occur to me… I make my own money, and I suppose I’ve never really been interested in material possessions other than clothes, but…” Hakuba sighed. “If you go by the theory of self-actualization, I suppose I already have those things, so I’m blind to it.”

“At least you’re aware that you’re blind.”

“Sometimes.”

There was another lull while Jones sighed. “So, the making out in the alleyway?”

“I’m getting to that!”

“Then get on with it!”

“I’m telling this story, Jones, and I know that you love my stories, so just let me do it as I see fit!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a regular John Watson… go." 

"Right, then. So I’d just made a muck of things with him again, as usual, and yes, showing off that I’m a ruddy git who is unintentionally insensitive, nationalistic–”

“I already knew that you hated Americans.”

“Hush! I do not!”

“Fine, fine, go on.”

“So I just made an ass of myself and Kuroba-kun–”

“That’s the kid’s name?”

“Uhhh… yes. Anyway, so I didn’t realize that he knew just how much burberry scarves cost, or that he was aware of the context in which…” Hakuba sighed, dropping his arm to lay over his chest. “It was bad, Jones. It was very bad. I was so embarrassed. Especially because he just kept slipping and it wasn’t as if he’d done anything wrong…”

“So what did you do?”

“Well, I caught up to him, of course…”

One Week Earlier (“Thirty four point seven six seconds after Kuroba-kun stormed off”)

“Kuroba-kun!” Hakuba reached for his shoulder, eyes wide, pleading as he caught up to him again, nearly slipping on the ice himself. This was something that didn’t really happen to him often. Slipping on ice, that is– he was quite used to traversing on slick, frozen sidewalks, and most certainly used to putting his foot in his mouth. 

“Wait, really, I’m sorry. Please wait? God, I didn’t mean to get all… well, you know! I just… this place! And there are so many… and the…!" 

Frustrated, trying not to slip, trying to balance everything in his arms, and grab onto Kuroba-kun as really not working out all that well for him. 

"God will you please just listen to me?!”

by

Idle Weather Shop Talk

askseramasumi:

image

The voice hadn’t so much startled her but it was surprising to say the least. She had ventured a little further from Beika and hadn’t been expecting to see anyone she knew. It seemed that her idea had been correct, but this person still seemed to know her which was strange enough on its own.

“I am,” she replied, glancing over at him cautiously. Blond hair and mixed features, polite manner of speech, knowledge of her profession, young age… “You must be one as well. A detective, I mean.”

Guard up. He could still be one of them.

image

“Yes, that’s right.” It didn’t surprise him that she didn’t already know his name, though Hakuba felt a little disappointed, regardless. He wasn’t nearly as famous as Kudou, after all, and his travelling schedule kept him out of the Japanese limelight far too often– at least for Baaya’s taste, apparently, given how often she complained to him about it.

“Hakuba Saguru. A pleasure to meet you, Sera-san. I’ve heard good things about you. From…” Hakuba tilted his head to look her over, curiously. “America, if I remember correctly. At least recently.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Is that correct?”

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

“You make it sound like we’re going to break up in just a few months. Come on Hakuba, have a sense of optimism.”  Kaito said and  leaned nonchalantly against the counter facing him. The black hematite studs in his ears caught and played with the light. He was grinning at the detective playfully. He reached for the wine glasses and swirled it some. Not to mix the flavors but to watch the liquid move about in the glass.

“Hmmm, what about to mutual feelings” He purred and held up his glass. “To mutual feelings finally being met.”

“Mutual feelings finally being met… yes.” That was something that Hakuba could at least agree with, he hoped, but then again… He stopped, suddenly, halting his thoughts to back up, blinking as he straightened up. “Wh-wait, break up? Are we dating now? H-hold on… hold on there, Kuroba-kun…!”

image

Brows furrowing, he looked at the other very carefully, studying his face, the grin, the other wine glass. Then he looked away. Kuroba was far too attractive to be staring at while trying to get his thoughts straight.

“…wait, are…? I’m so confused. What is going on?”

by

baiganraltaica:

image

“There are far more horrible ways ta fall. Down both ways.”

He drank, always quiet, allowing the familiar burn to ensnare the sensations in his throat. The make of the merciless instilled into him that want of challenge, that aggression and increased it tenfold—as such a tiger should be—but it was for that very reason that he, too, preferred not to dwell into such aspects as comfort. Even in mannerisms, the icy hoarfrost remained hidden, averted, in the face of a real provocation. Tigers were better hunters in light of a surprise, anyway.

"I mus’ wonder, then, by yer own words’f ya do find blackened lungs more cruel than th’ silvered words’f a snake tongue…”

“If I didn’t know any better…”  Hakuba started, a sneer of his own coming to his expression as he raised his glass to drink. So much for the hiatus. Ah. “I’d think that you were truly worried about my well-being. You leave my tongue out of this, and the blackened lungs… honestly, a cigarette here or there isn’t going to hurt me. Not truly.”

Nevertheless, he sighed as he pulled the opened package from the inside pocket of suit jacket, slipping one of the sticks between his fingers and pulling it out to look at. Quite the pair, the liquor and cigarette. 

“Do you mind if I~?”

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

He snorted he couldn’t help it the laughter just started bubbling out of him. ” I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Its just … Out of anything you could have said … could have toasted to tonight …. you said.” 
He straightened and sighed. He wiped his eyes and rubbed his aching sides. “You really are adorable you know that.”

“I thought it was a good toast,” Hakuba said, tone defensive though he relaxed a little bit. “And I’m not adorable. I was just being scientific. I couldn’t toast to a relationship because I’m not sure where we stand, I couldn’t toast to first kisses because that wasn’t, technically, and I couldn’t toast to new beginnings because, again, I don’t know where we stand and where I’m going to end up or anything like that.”

The detective huffed again, looking into his glass. The wine was beautiful, at least, and he knew it would be incredible. Soon, so soon, he’d be able to drink. If he could get through this conversation, anyway. 

“It’s simply… linear to toast to working things out, because that’s what we’ll have to do first thing to move on to anything else. Everything has a logical order to reach any conclusion. So, working things out… the spirit of a common goal, a fresh start, a…" 

Hakuba winced and then looked back to Kaito, sticking his tongue out. "You’re always taking the mick out. You pick something to toast to." 

by

Genius.

capturego:

image

[Today, professor Elm had called in to leave a notice with Crys. Watch the lab while he’s in Hoenn for a conference. She of course had no arguments with the request and simply sat in the lab, doing some of his unfinished paperwork, correcting his theories a tad and straightening up the lab. It wasn’t so hard so why didn’t Elm get these things finished?? 

Seating herself at a table in front of a Pichu, she plays with it until she heard the doors open. Her head turns to whoever may be welcoming themselves inside.]

Ah—the professor isn’t here today.

“Oh, really? That’s a shame." 

The voice belonged to Hakuba Saguru, one of the few contending for Lance’s title – that of dragon master, that is, not of psychopath. He smiled, confident as easy as he walked in, holding in his arms a wool bag with a very large, spotted egg. Curled loosely around his neck was a young dratini, and following behind, very carefully, a Dragonite. "May I leave this here with you, then?" 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito blinked at him and bite the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hide his laughter. It wasn’t working as well as he wanted. Covering his face he felt the laugh sneak out of him. He place the drink down with a clatter and leaned over the counter with his head rest on it. His arms wrapped around his face as he shook with silent laughter. 

As with every other time this had happened to him – and it really did happen far more often than he’d care to admit – Hakuba stared in confusion. Was Kaito laughing at his toast? At his admission of fantasies? Or just at him in general? He held the wine glass carefully, not willing to set it down just in case Kaito’s laughter erupted in some sort of violent flailing, befitting of a class clown, and let his expression settle into an offended frown. 

“Ah… hey now… you stop that, Kuroba-kun. In the last hour, you’ve accused me of poisoning you, gotten mad at me for trying to protect you, and… and kissed me, and then… again, so you…!”  Hakuba gave an exasperated huff, mouth curving into a full-on pout. “Please do explain why you’re now laughing at me." 

by

Waiting Pleasantries

patientxpetals:

   ”Oh! Well, that’s even better. Yer doin’ yer job well if yer gettin’ the right guys.” She wasn’t one to judge people based on their appearance, but he seemed like such a gentleman that she couldn’t see him catching a criminal — then again, he said he was a detective. That required intellect, and he certainly sounded smart.

                                                     ’Ornamental horticulture.’

image

   She’d never heard another address it that way, her eyebrows lifting in awe. Goodness, if more people praised her line of work like that, she wouldn’t have felt so ashamed of admitting it.

   ”Go right ahead.”

Hakuba studied her for a few seconds, then nodded, shuffling his feet to get back a little warmth in his legs. “I’ve always been curious about this, and you’ll have to forgive me if it seems too forward or odd or anything like that, but…” The detective pursed his lips, brows raising as he gave her a very, very studious look, exaggerating just a little to make it clear that he was analyzing her.

“Just what, as a professional ornamental horticulturist, is your favorite flower?” A brief pause. “And would you consider it one that you particularly enjoy working with?”

by

Bloody Moriarty

thelotusflowerfiles:

He had notice the brief pause, the distraction. Filing it away to ask the other about it when they were swapping stories. He nodded in agreement at the appropriate questions in both to indicate that he was listening and to show that he felt the same way. He smiled at the end, that small, soft, slightly sad grin.

“I agree. Holmes has always been my idol. Someone I strive to be like. At least that was how it used to be. There were somethings that were vague in Holmes’s stories. Like when the case was aloud to get personal enough so you didn’t force someone into a corner. When the victims and the offenders reasoning and feelings should be considered and valuated. Waston did those things. He sympathized with the clients and  understood the convicted. So I guess I changed and wanted to become someone that was a mix between both.”

He shifted in his seat. It had been along time since he had to talk about himself for that long and about something he had never spoke to anyone about. 

“Mm…”  Hakuba hummed with agreement, his own smile turning somewhat pained. “I have to be honest that while I always loved and admired Holmes, I never did quite feel like a Sherlock. I’m… definitely more of a John Watson, especially now.”

He sighed, pulling out his pocket watch to set on the table, running his fingers over the scarred surface. “I think that the balance you’ve mentioned is specifically why they worked so well together. That cold brilliance is necessary for the work… to not become so attached that you’re blinded by emotions, twisting logic and reason to match the heart…

"But then the compassion, too… that sympathy, that humanity, really…”

The blond went quiet for moment, finally looking back at Shinichi. “I’d always heard that you were cold and somewhat difficult to work with, Kudou-san, but I must admit that I’m really not seeing it. Perhaps that mix you wanted has already been achieved."