Tea- if it’s a good Earl Grey, I take it with milk and two sugars. Most other teas (even Asian) are usually with a combination of sugar and honey, depending on what is available. Honey is particularly good in green tea, I’ve found.
Coffee- I like with both milk, cream, and sugar… I suppose I have a little bit of a sweet tooth, if I were to be completely honest.
I’ll drink it black if I have to, however. Function over form, I suppose, when necessary…
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“Yeah!” Kaito grinned even wider. It’d been a while since he’d performed elaborate tricks when not KID, so he was ecstatic for this. (That lack of performing, though, was partially due to how often he was running around as KID lately.)
“I’ve got the tricks planned and I figured out how to incorporate the red lines during that night, if I can’t blot them out with makeup or disguising tricks. I’m not going to do anything too dangerous, such as fire breathing. I’d rather not give anyone a heart attack. And mistakes would hurt, even with the invulnerability.”
“F-fire… Fire breathing?"
Hakuba looked at his reflection in the window he was seated next to, noting his own, confused frown with some dismay.
"Ah, you… you mean the stage performance trick, surely… not that you, yourself, can breathe fire now?"
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“It’s fine,” he said airily. Keeping secrets was always a pain, but this was getting ridiculous. As soon as he had finally let someone in on it, the universe decided it was time to add on to the double life, just for shits and giggles. (Maybe he pissed off someone in a previous life?)
“Anyway, how have you been, disappointment and panic aside?”
“I’ve been… fine." Hakuba looked at his watch. "Thank you for asking."
He wasn’t fine, but Kaito didn’t need to know that. Time for a diversion of his own. "Are things still looking good for the charity benefit? Mum’s in town now. She’s… very excited."
“Of course I will, Hakuba.” He grinned. “After all, this has to be one of the few times, if not the first time, KID has not appeared when he said he would.“
Now he’d have to do some misdirection. He would rather avoid breaking one of his detectives’ brains again (especially since he wasn’t there in-person) and not being sure of what happened himself would be interesting. “Well, detective, were you disappointed?"
It was nice, hearing his name spoken by Kaito, especially in confidence with the rather secret information that they were discussing.The question drew Hakuba out of that train of thought and he blinked.
"Disappointed? Of course. I always like watching you work. Though, admittedly, I really was mostly just worried.”
He wanted to go on, all about how he didn’t know what he’d do if he lost him, if something happened to him, etc, etc, so on, but Hakuba was fairly certain that it would be returned only with a ‘I’m invincible now’ and a ‘you worry too much,’ so he refrained.
“Sorry for all of the, ah, voicemails. I panicked.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, albeit distractedly. Big furry thing that nobody could quite identify? Oh, boy. He really bit off much more than he could chew this time. “Just checking, because I wasn’t quite sure of what happened last night myself. No, I didn’t end up attacked or injured, just to clear that up.”
“That’s comforting, at least.” Hakuba didn’t sound convinced. “Ah, but last night? I hope you’re planning to offer an official apology. Everyone was quite disappointed that you couldn’t make it."
That was putting it very lightly, but the detective didn’t wish to press. At least, too hard.
Heiji looked confused at the statement. “Wha? No, I don’ think yer a stupid foreigner. I think yer a stuck-up, annoyin’ prat with an attitude problem, but I don’ think yer stupid.“ Ah, his dish was done, and he dug into it, savoring the bite. Delicious, as always. “This ain’t about th’ Detective Koushien case, is it? That was an easy mistake ta make. Anyone coulda done the same. That doesn’t make ya stupid.” It just makes me smarter than ya, he wisely refrained from saying. He didn’t think that statement would go over too well in their current conversation.
Another bite. Oh-so-good. He’d missed this place. Hadn’t been here in far too long. “An’ yer a Half, right? That doesn’t really make ya a foreigner.“ He leaned back and frowned slightly. “Unless ya don’t consider Japan yer home?”
There had been the smallest spark of hope at the beginning of Hattori’s response. The, ‘no I don’t think’ part, but then, as he continued to speak, the hope was crushed. More like it was poisoned, strangled, stabbed in the back, and drowned in the waters of that odd combination of first and second hand embarrassment.
Hakuba clenched his fists in his pockets, listening to the Osakan ramble on near unintelligibly, expression even and stone. He’d admitted his failure in the Koushien then and there. Why was there any reason at all to bring it up again? It wasn’t as if Hattori were any more a detective than he was. In fact, he’d looked at the data himself, and knew that he was more accomplished than Hattori. With all of the infractions that the god damned brute had committed, he shouldn’t have even been allowed to participate. He didn’t have the right to call himself a detective. And as the son of the Superintendent Supervisor, he should be ashamed for his behavior.
He wanted to get up and leave right then and there. But with food already ordered, it would be rude to the restaurant owner to do so. Nevertheless, the bitterness never went further than the white knuckled grip inside of his pockets and the silence that he so tangibly gave.
The question, however, was addressed after another moment of quiet contemplation.
“I am a ‘halfer,’ yes,” Hakuba said at first, briefly wondering if Hattori had any idea just how insulting the term was. “I have dual nationality so I am technically a citizen, but Japan is ‘home’ only in that my father is here."
Food was delivered, set before him. He offered his thanks, then looked at it with a stab of painful regret. It looked delicious, certainly, but he’d very much lost his appetite. Hakuba reached for chopsticks, not wishing to offend.
Let Hattori talk his mouth off. He didn’t care.
Both Katsura and Heiji winced at Hakuba’s use of the Osaka-ben honorific inserted into his usual Tokyo dialect. Not to mention Heiji did not approve of the Brit’s self-deprecation. The restaurant owner did, however (ugh, Heiji really hated social conventions sometimes), and, mollified, began his order.
“Oi, Hakuba,” he began while waiting for his own okonomiyaki to finish grilling. “Don’t put’cherself down so much.“ It was really grating on his nerves, this constant politeness of his. It didn’t feel sincere at all, and Heiji hated that. “S’annoyin’. Some people might like it, but ya shouldn’t force yerself like that.”
The wince was not missed, and Hakuba made a mental note to recount the conversation with Baaya later, to see if she could help point out his misstep. But at least the owner seemed satisfied, so he turned away from the counter to look at Hattori while he spoke, calming down.
Or, well, he was calming down.
Hakuba frowned, letting out a quiet, frustrated huff. “Thank you for your input, Hattori-san… I’ll take it into consideration next time. Unfortunately, everything that I said was true. I am a stupid foreigner, am I not? Isn’t that what you think of me?"
