by

daughterofthesleuth:

Ran couldn’t deny that he was attractive and she’d actually enjoyed kissing him. She peered up at him with eyes curious to know if he felt the same. Yes, he’d admitted she had nothing to be sorry about, but she wasn’t sure if he was just easing her fears or if he’d felt something as well. Another blush crept into her cheeks, tinting them even darker red. “I’m just glad you didn’t push me away.” She managed to whisper. 

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Hakuba laughed, letting the sound roll softly from his throat. She was so cute. “I can’t imagine how I could possibly push such a lovely young lady away. Honestly, I think your forwardness is quite charming.”  And it was, but specifically because, as far as he was aware, it wasn’t something that she normally did. 

Fighting the strange fear that someone might attack him at any moment for paying the girl this sort of attention, the foreign detective lifted a hand to oh-so-gently brush a lock of hair from Ran’s face, tucking it back behind her ear. 

“Thank you." 

by

Pride and Obligation

How long had it been since Hakuba had left? Days? A week perhaps? He couldn’t remember. After he had pulled himself up off the floor and away from the faint muffled crying he had plunged himself into his equipment and heist preparations. The hang glider had been fixed and re-enforce in the joints to avoid another buckle. Standing on the roof he watched the commotion of the task force and his fans but he couldn’t feel their excitement and the normal rush he got. Instead he felt tired and distracted. Dangerous thing to be when starting a heist. All because there was some thing, well some one. 

The wind picked up and he glanced up at the sky; his white uniform a stark contrast against the inky sky whipped away from his body. It was time to start. He stepped off the roof and welcomed the noise.

—

And yet… despite the night’s event, there was no blond detective. No half-brit gentleman lurking about. Instead, he watched the live news report from the comfort of his bedroom, wine glass in one hand, monocle in the other. He’d been debating whether or not he should go all week, but as with everything else, had yet to come to a decision. And now he was drinking. 

It was only a fifteen minute drive from there, really… at least, with the way that Hakuba drove. He could still make it. He could still join the hunt, feel the thrill of the chase, and taste Kid’s enjoyment of it all. But then… … …

He looked down at the monocle again, rolling it between his fingers in the firelight. Should he go…? Kuroba had seemed so disappointed when he’d stated that his priorities had changed. Did it matter? 

Sighing, Hakuba pushed up from his comfortable chair and drained the last of his glass, stepping over to sweep the suit jacket from the back of his chair. The monocle he slipped into the grandfather clock over the fireplace, right over the face, and closed the glass cabinet front. It would be safe there. Then, with a last look at the television, Kid’s cape caught in a glorious gust of wind, he began a reluctant walk from bedroom, down the hall, into the garage, and out to his car. 

He supposed that he was just a dog, after all… and dogs needed work to be happy. 

by

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

Pain both physical and psychological lanced across his face before he could stop it. He bowed his head and cautiously moved off the steps towards him. About a few pace left he stopped. “I’m  …. scared. I was absolutely terrified that you still had the urge to catch KID-” He inhaled and shook his head. “To catch me. When you said that you didn’t well … I got relieved and happy.  Down right ecstatic! I just laughed reflexively. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted ….” 

He broke off and blushed. The monocle was cool to his palm when he lifted it and held it out to the detective- no friend in front of him. Hakuba was his FRIEND. He wanted him to know. “You were right, have always been right. I can understand if you don’t want to talk to me or even …” he swallowed. “see me but can you at least take this. It’ll bring you luck. This one was my fathers and has managed to keep me safe. So hopefully it’ll bring some of that protection or luck or whatever to you. You can go back to England – to home with your head held high. You had caught me the moment you figured everything out and I’m sorry.” 

He sighed and chewed at his bottom lip. Gently he laid the metal and glass disk on the side walk in front of him, turned and walked back into the Kuroba home. 

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It was all a bit much for Hakuba to take in at once. He listened without moving, back to Kaito, turning to look away as he spoke, but his feet stayed rooted to the spot. He didn’t take the offered monocle; he didn’t even see the outreaching hand. Really, he couldn’t even see much past the blur, eyes brimming with tears that he held back.

What did it mean? Did Kuroba trust him? Hakuba swallowed, head hanging with eyes closed as he listened… and waited until the door closed before doing anything at all, gradually unclenching his fists, letting his shoulders sag. 

He turned, glancing down to the walk and held his breath as he knelt to retrieve it. This was Kuroba Toichi’s?  The detective turned it over in his hand, fingerpads pressing over the rim, the cord, the charm. It was beautiful, authentic, and hard, physical evidence. Evidence he could use to have Kuroba Kaito arrested for his crimes. Hakuba glanced at the door, then back at the object in his hands, wondering what to do. 

You were right, have always been right… You caught me the moment you figured everything out and I’m sorry. 

Hakuba heard the hitch in his breath before he felt it, choking on the sudden surge of emotions that came out in a tangled mess. He’d wanted it confirmed for so long. He’d been right. He’d trusted his instincts, done his homework, and stayed the course despite everyone shutting him down. No one had believed him, but he’d been right. He’d been right and Kuroba had admitted it. 

He wasn’t a failure. 

You can go back to England – to home with your head held high. 

Tucking the monocle into an inside pocket of his suit jacket, he turned back too walk to his car, wooden box under his arm. He’d come for advice and gotten it… gotten more than, even; a victory, a potential friend, an olive branch of trust. 

And now he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go home. 

At least he managed to make it back to his car before the tears came in a wave, strangling him and his chest as he sank into the seat. What was he going to do? Why had Kuroba decided to trust him now? Was it because he was leaving? Was he no loner a threat? Was it a parting gift? A way of saying ‘now you don’t ever need to come back’? What if he wanted to?

He sobbed into his arms in the open-topped red convertible, shoulders shaking, bent over the steering wheel. There was too much pain, too much relief, too many feelings all wrapped up that he couldn’t adequately deduce. And, hard as he cried, it didn’t seem to help. 

Instead of a answer, he only found himself with more questions. 

by

osakandetectivehattori reblogged your post and added:

Hattori cursed and rushed over to Hakuba. He could see his chest moving, so he was still breathing. That didn’t stop him from worrying about the blood. He knelt down, using his Katana to cut the ropes holding the detective to the bed, and gently and slowly remove them from his wrists. Once they were out of the way, Hattori removed his shirt and gently placed it over the other, for some form of modesty, as he started to look him over.

Bloody nose, bloody lip, and a head wound. This was bad.

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Hattori ran gentle fingers along his arms and legs, checking for any broken bones before slowly, and gently, lifting an arm to slip it through the sleeve of the shirt. He was trying to cause as little pain as possible, but also knew that Hakuba would not be happy to be seen in such a state; though he really should get him out of here. The others didn’t seem to be back, but that could change at any minuet.

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The blond detective groaned the moment his arms were moved, and slowly came to while Hattori did his checks. His ribs, badly bruised on both sides, weren’t broken but they were very likely cracked. Hakuba hissed in pain as the shirt was put on him, and shivered immediately afterward at the sudden warmth.

He managed to turn his head toward Hattori, vague confusion seeping into his expression as he squinted up at him. “Ha… tto…”  was all that he managed to croak out from his raw throat, parched from lack of water and ample yelling. He didn’t look good, no… but at least they were still alone.  

by

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

He heard the slick of the lock and surged upward in an impulsive response. Mari and Keena we’re chirping at the door and he found the monocle resting on the side table. His hands were shaking and his vision was starting to tunnel. He swung the door open and launched out.

“Hakuba! I …. I ”

The detective stopped halfway down the walk, car in the corner of his peripheral vision- his getaway. He considered making a run for it, certain that even if Kuroba caught up for whatever reason, he wouldn’t be able to stop him from leaving. But when the thought ran its course, he turned to look over his shoulder at him instead, expression worn and faded. Hakuba was tired of all of this.

“What, Kuroba-kun? Did you forget some other piece of helpful advice? Or are you just eager to take one last shot at me before I leave?”

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Psst.

Psst: Three things that I’ve always wanted to tell you. 

  1. I… I really have it bad for that white suit of yours.
  2. Sometimes I watch you during class and think about kissing you… it’s quite distracting.
  3. I’ve always wanted to try to tame your wild, wild… hair. No, really; I keep some styling gel and a comb in my bag, and I… I’ve been so sorely tempted, so many times, to just walk up and play hairstylist… but I somehow think that would be unwelcome and may, in fact, be regarded as inappropriate. Nevertheless, the struggle is real. 
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The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito had froze wide eyed and terrified. Hakuba was leaving. He was going to leave Japan. That was for the best …. The heists will be easier … . He stared at the water bottle in his hand then launched it across the dinning room where it hit with a loud thunk and exploding water. “DAMN IT!!”

A soft coo pulled him from his thoughts. Keena and Mari, his pure white dove, were sitting on the back of the sofa. Under Mari’s foot was his monocle. He leaped. “Good girl, Mari! take it to Hakuba and please pray that this does not piss him off further. Keena please go with her.”

Kaito slowly slid to the floor in the kitchen his strength finally fading. Crouched over himself he waited for the door to slam shut and the possible string of curse words. He also waited for Hakuba to walk right out of his life forever.

“You are a stupid, contradicting fool, Kuroba Kaito. Who can’t even tell a friend you don’t want him you go.” He buried his face into his knees. “I’m sorry , Hakuba.

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Hakuba had just managed to exchange the house slippers for his shoes when the birds found him, one on each shoulder. He sighed, letting his head hang for a moment before turning to look at each of them – and the monocle. Curiously, he held a hand out for it and frowned as it ended up in his palm. He’d heard the water bottle, the exclamation, and now Kuroba’s birds were bringing him evidence. 

Is he mocking me? He wondered, both hurt and furious. But there was another thought – a peace offering? 

No. Certainly not. He held the monocle very carefully in his palm, fingers curled protectively, and offered his hand to each bird, transferring them to the top of the shoe cubby. Then he stood, took out his handkerchief, and wiped it down of any fingerprint. "No, little one, I’m not to see this, or touch it,” he said, showing it to her before setting it down between the two. “You let your master know, will you?”

After a little head skritch for them both, he stepped up to the door… then rested his forehead against it, warring with himself. What had he hoped for? That Kuroba would beg him to stay? He’d given good advice – follow the path you’d dreamed of. But could he leave his work unfinished? It hadn’t been his original intention- to capture Spider, then to arrest Kid  -the game had changed to one of protection, but it was still no less important. 

Yet, if Kuroba didn’t want his help… what was the point in delaying the inevitable defeat? 

He left, closing the door quietly behind him and pulled until he heard the soft click to know that it had been properly closed.

by

Sherlock knocked promptly on the door in front of him. According to his research this was where the young detective lived. “I need to stay here for a short time. You understand this sort of thing and the reasons so surely it must be fine.”

“M-Mr. Holmes!" 

Hakuba stared at the man on the other side of the door, blinking in surprise. He hadn’t expected to see him again for quite some time, let alone right at his doorstep. Presently, his mind worked through the request and a bit of color came to his face. Sherlock Holmes wanted to stay with him? He glanced over his shoulder and into the mansion for a moment, empty and quiet except for the occasional staff member milling about, doing their work. 

Well, it wasn’t as if they didn’t have the accommodations. 

He swallowed, turning back to his idol and nodded, forcing a brave smile. It was his duty to be a good host. 

"Of course you’ll stay here. Please, do come in. Let me take your coat. I’ll have someone prepare a room for you immediately. Would you like some tea?”