by

Bloody Moriarty

thelotusflowerfiles:

The letter came as a pleasant surprise for him. He reread the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. He reached for his coffee and watched the morning start. It had been such along time since he had heard from the other detective. His hand writing had change slightly. The laptop by his side was already open with a blank email opened waiting for him to respond.

He stared at the screen and the blinking icon for a moment before hesitating his hands over the key board.

Hakuba S.J.,

I understand.

Tell me  when and where you want to meet. I have admit I am curious to hear about your Moriarty, Congrats on his defeat. 

Kudo Shinichi

He paused reread the email then hit send. Now there was nothing to do but wait. He remembered Hakuba Saguru from his days as Conan but that was seven years ago. He stood and walked towards the window. The soft light of the morning sun played with the trees and flowers in the front yard. He, for a moment, felt peace.

To say that Hakuba was surprised to receive a response from Kudou – and so quickly – was an understatement. It was via email, not hand-written, which was a shame but within the allowable protocol as had been specified in his original correspondence. He wondered if it held any further meaning than that, but… no, Kudou Shinichi was practical. Honest. It was speed and convenience that had guided his hand, not some silly veiled meaning. That was for him to do.

The once famous detective reread the email and stifled a yawn. It would be over-eager to respond right away, but then if he did, and caught Kudou still at his console, perhaps they could begin an open dialog and… 

A whine interrupted his thoughts, and Hakuba glanced down at the dog curled at his feet, tail sleepily thumping against the ground. He looked at the time and frowned. So late… so late, and if he got started now…

With a heavy sigh, Hakuba very slowly, very carefully picked himself up from his chair, leaning against the desk to close his own laptop before shuffling with a heavy limp and grimace to his bed. He would reply later, when it was closer. 

…seventy-one hours later. 

Kudou Shinichi-

I will be arriving on Thursday at 12:43:00 at Tokyo International. Would you be available this weekend for tea? Any location is agreeable with me, though I must confess my fears that any proposed meeting spot on my end may no longer exist in this world. If you have any suggestions, I would be more than glad to hear them, and as always, my father’s estate is open to you. 

Thank you for your quick response.

Sincerely,

Hakuba S. J.

The email from Kudou had been the only silver lining in the sea of dismal despair on which Hakuba found himself lost in for the past… well, as long as he could really remember in recent history. Impressive how such a simple thing could be so significant. 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

“Actually is wasn’t Adler….” He grumble softly to himself. Remind him of who? He was getting a little lost. The Bosocombe Valley Mystery …. that was the only story he had only read once and for obvious reasons. After Nightmare everything was too hard to read. He fell unnaturally silent. His emotions went dark as his mind ventured to past memories.

The words reached him, but it was his observations that really caught him. Smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, Hakuba sat back in his chair and looked down at the untouched soup in front of him. Right. He’d hoped that bringing up Boscombe would thrill the thief, but…

“That’s a shame. She’s a wonderful character. Quite interesting that she was introduced so early on in the series…” Hakuba let his voice trail off as he picked up his spoon to stir the soup, half wondering if he would end up doing anything more than taste it – which he did then. A fine representation, to be certain, but… “So, ah, you’ve read Holmes. I can honestly say that I’m a little surprised. I thought I might get a lecture about the superior virtues of Arsene Lupin…” 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

He picked up his water and took a long drink. This was beyond embarrassing.

“The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle is on the list as for my all time favorite … is  ..Ascanfelofbohenam” He muttered the last bit too quickly and felt his hands tremble slightly. 

There was a brief pause before Hakuba raised a brow, head tilting with the slyest of smirks. “Oh ho ho,” he said, voice almost purring in amusement. “A Scandal in Bohemia, very good choice, Kuroba-kun. Don’t tell me that you’ve fallen for the seductive charm of Irene Adler, too~?" 

He clicked his tongue in a teasing tsk tsk tsk, winking in his direction. "My, oh my. You know, she always did remind me of…” It was there that his train of thought derailed and Hakuba hesitated half a beat before continuing as if he hadn’t started the previous sentence.

“It’s The Boscombe Valley Mystery for me. God, it’s such a perfect illustration of the human condition and the ethical shades of grey in detective work…”

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito pause completely and looked up at him slowly. He was trying to back track to when exactly he had told Hakuba he had read the series. He remembered the little book locked away in his makeshift library and felt his ears grow hot.

“What …. um, A Study in Scarlet and the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.”  He answered reluctantly. Now he felt his whole face burn in embarrassment.

“The bread and soup is amazing.” He coughed and tried to levitate some of the pressure building in his chest.

Hakuba blinked, completely missing the comment about the food, leaning forward with sudden and total interest. “Ah-HAH!” he exclaimed, only barely able to keep himself from standing at once in his excitement. “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes is my absolute favorite, yes! Good! God yes! Not that A Study in Scarlet is not brilliant in its own right, but – oh, oh, please, do tell, pray tell, which is your favorite in The Adventures Of?" 

Bright, sparkling eyes accompanied the question as the detective waited with baited breath for his guest’s response. Really, nothing else could be so important than that very singular moment – the moment of absolute truth!

by

Bloody Moriarty

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When Hakuba looked at the pair of plane tickets in his hands, he felt a certain sense of dread. They were meant to be a gift, a fresh start, and something to get his mind off of the recent verdict of his suspension. But all that they did was drive his failure home. While he’d completed his nine year-long quest, he’d destroyed everything else that he’d built in the process. The fact that his father was extending an offer of help was more than enough evidence of that.

It’d been almost seven years since he’d left Japan for what he’d hoped would be a permanent change. Once he’d graduated from Ekoda High School, it was straight to Oxford with only one or two minor distractions by way of kidnapping and torture, graduated with a four year degree in criminal science with a minor in english (emphasis in journalism), applied for and granted full British citizenship, and been welcomed into Scotland Yard with open, greedy arms. Nearly everything had gone according to plan, just as had been designated oh so many years ago… with a few niggling changes in the details.

…something about a the famous international Hakuba Saguru being forced into early retirement at twenty-four years old, hospitalized for nearly a year due to a broken back. The papers failed to mention the circumstances of the incident, of course, but it was just as well given that his heroism came with the sordid details of deliberate disobedience, drug addiction, and (court ruled ‘justifiable’) homicide. 

Still, the fact of the matter was that Hakuba was in desperate need for a change in scene, and as much as he would have loved to run to Paris or Rio, neither could offer the familial support that he needed. Not that his father, the still-presiding Superintendent General, really could, but the wealth of onsens and homeopathic remedies available seemed promising.

Depressing, but promising. 

But… there was one small glimmer of hope. And that was in the form of his once idol and colleague, Kudou Shinichi. They’d never had the chance to really connect while he was in Japan before, mostly due to the other’s sudden disappearance, but if he were returning, perhaps… 

Well, it was worth a shot, anyway. It wasn’t as if Hakuba expected this letter to result in anything different. Previous correspondence had been ignored, and despite his best efforts to investigate Kudou’s whereabouts, he had never found any sort of useful resolution. No closure. 

He drafted the letter in four attempts and posted it via Royal Mail, international, overnight. Just in case. Enclosed was nothing but a single sheet of paper with scribbled blue characters– the shaky handwriting of a once steady hand.

Dearest 
My fi 
Greetin

Kudou Shinichi,

I hope that this letter finds you well. I know that it has been quite some time since we last spoke, but Ihope that thi I do hope that this will reach you. It seems that I will be returning to Japan to visit for six months an indep indeterm undetermined unspecified period of time, but if agreeable, would very much appreciate the chance to meet with you.

There are many things that I would like to discuss with you, not the least of which being the death defeat of my so-called Moriarty and your opin ethical opinion of such.

Please respond if willing – I  via post, email, or phone at the information listed below.

Sincerely yours,

Hakuba S. J.

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It would have to do.

Japan, for Hakuba, teemed with loose ends. It was possible, however, that there was no better time than the present to fix that. 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

The question about college made him pause and remember that Hakuba was still going to return to England at some point. He swallow a soaked piece of bread and glanced away briefly angered and hurt. He turned back to him.

“I haven’t no. Its kind of hard to think about a college when you may not have a future. No?”

“Ah. Yes. Quite.”

Perfect. Offend your guest during the first course; always the mark of a successful dinner party. Hakuba leaned back in his seat, whatever small amount of appetite that he’d had suddenly gone completely. Nevertheless, he continued to tear the piece apart into even smaller pieces, letting it gradually disintegrate in his hands over the soup bowl. 

He needed another topic. Something light and pleasant. “Do you have a favorite Sherlock Holmes story, Kuroba-kun?" 

Perfect. 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito glance up at the staff then to the food and before he could say thank you they were back through the door. He bowed his head, gave thanks for the meal and barely restrained himself from tearing into the bread to quickly. Gods he was hungry. 

Although Hakuba was glad to see the healthy appetite and, he hoped, subsequent appreciation of the provided food, he was taken aback by the brief pause the other had taken, first. Kuroba wasn’t actually praying, was he? The detective tilted his head, almost forgetting his own silent prayer in the process, and mumbled a quiet ’itadakimasu’ before taking a piece of bread for himself.

“Have…”  he began to speak, tearing off a tiny portion of the bread in his hands, stomach tightening with anxiety as he considered his question. “…ah, have you decided which university or college that you’re to attend, yet?”

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

smokebombsandmirrors:

“She sounds like she would be wonderful to be around.” Kaito said and lean forward on to his elbows. He expression wistful and soft. He was thinking about his own mother. Gods if she knew where he was right now she have a fit. He smiled at the last conversation he had with her. It had been about the man he was sitting with. The silence that settled around him was comfortable.

Hakuba set the glass back to the table, watching Kaito through the skewed reflection in the water. He loved that look on his face. It wasn’t one that he saw very often, but it was certainly one of his favorites.

“She is,” he said, and stole a glance at the door. The food would be arriving any moment, wouldn’t it? “I think that you would like her… other than her meddling tendencies, anyway, but what are mothers for if not to meddle?”

It was then, of course, that the two servants returned with soup – french onion – and sourdough, which they quietly set in front of the pair before whisking away to the kitchen again.

by

Waiting Pleasantries

patientxpetals:

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   ”That don’t sound borin’ at all. I probably wouldn’t be any good at it, but yer helpin’ put criminals away, right?” Her lips curled behind her scarf, a small dusting of color touching her cheeks when he asked her what she did.

   A small shrug, and she turned her eyes away.

   ”I’m a florist. I arrange an’ sell flowers, but I got a garden of m’ own. Ain’t as impressive as bein’ a detective.”

“Yes, I am. Or, rather, I’m helping to find the correct criminals to help the authorities to put them away, anyway,” Hakuba laughed, shrugging his shoulders with a wincing smile. He was splitting hairs, but it had always been a bad habit of his.

“Regardless, ornamental horticulture is a time-honored tradition and requires an enormous attention to detail and a deft hand.” He paused for only a moment. “Do you mind if I ask another nosy question?”

by

themoonlightthief:

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He couldn’t help it, he laughed, arms wrapping around Hakuba’s neck and lips brushing against his cheek. It was ridiculous. Really. So ridiculous, how every little thing was enough to make Kaito’s chest fill with pure and utter warmth and love for the detective above him and he tugged him closer, eyes closing as he nuzzled into the crook of Hakuba’s neck. 

“How about cuddling and kissing~?”

“As if I could deny such a request from you.”

Hakuba returned the affection by nosing his head and kissing his hair, laughing quietly with him. Ridiculous? Yes, definitely. Wonderful? Also a definite. With a contented sigh, he flopped onto his side, eyes on Kaito’s face to gaze at him nothing but adoration, arm draped over him, smile confident and serene. He owed him kisses, yes, but for just that moment… he just wanted to look at him, lifting his hand again to brush through his bangs. 

“…how many kisses would you like? You seem quite tired.” It was all teasing, of course; he’d give as many kisses as Kaito wanted.