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osakansax:

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“Of course.”

Did he have it? Heiji wasn’t sure, and would certainly not say that he was so. Besides, being sons of police superintendents, he could easily acquire that sort of information anyway… if that prideful lion stopped dangling its mane all over his head. “I… really shouldn’ be keepin’ ya any longer here. Ya probably have a case ta get ta, or somethin’.”

Certainly awkward, indeed. Especially when he would’ve loved to just shove a “get out” instead of those mess of words. Then again, being restricted by a knee brace and a bed did plenty to help that out.

“Something like that, yes. God speed your recovery, Hattori-san.”

Hakuba nodded his head to Heiji as a display of respect – or at least formality- and took another step back, before turning and walking to the door. Had he successfully interacted with his colleague without being physically assaulted? Was it possible that the two had had a moment of some kind?! The foreign detective wasn’t yet sure, but he intended to get back at Kaitou for the awkwardness either way.

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osakansax:

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“—That’s fine. No need fer that.”

It seemed that was all pride would permit of the Osakan detective. A few flashes of memories, yet the biggest of gaps was yet to be completely filled in. Intense frustration continued to pulse into his system, but his expression remained decidedly annoyed in a light-hearted fashion. “Sorry KID’s made ya come this far out. Ya needn’ worry ‘bout me no more.”

Though, that thought was decidedly curious. How did KID know it would be this annoying detective that held at least some of those missing fragments of his memory? It was just as perplexing as the idea that the flash of silver his memories allowed of him did not belong to the lighter in the foreign teen’s possession.

Still, he did not want to trouble anyone else more for his disturbingly poor memory. At this point, it might be best to visit the scene in where he was found—even if it had burned down to mere ashes upon pavement. “I can handle it from here.”

Hakuba breathed an audible sigh of relief, then blushed faintly at his very obvious outward faux pas. He cleared his throat with a small cough into a first, then busied himself, stowing the lighter away in its rightful place once more.

“Certainly, Hattori-san." 

He took a step back, then hesitated again. Was that really all? 

"Ah, if… you should desire any further assistance of any kind, I’m… assuming that you have my mobile number, correct?”

The foreign detective said this with a wince, but steeled himself afterward, inwardly blaming Kaitou for this entirely awkward interaction. 

See? We can have a civil conversation… There was no need to worry, Kaito-kun. 

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Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito blinked and took the envelope. “Really?” He split in an ear to ear grin. This would be quite a lot of fun. “…I’m guessing I have to keep it classy and a bit less… exuberant than usual, given the crowd.”

(And there’d be some problems with how he preferred white suits. Still, he could make that a part of the act, KID appearing to crash the event and revealing it’s just the magician they hired. Oh, delicious irony.)

“So, what’s the charity event for, anyway?”

“Ah… let me check.”  Hakuba retrieved his mobile next, pulling up a scheduling application. “Ah, yes. The Foster Care event. An independent group has been sponsored by my father’s department… I don’t think that children will be there, but it’s likely that those graduated from the program will attend. That said, you should have mostly free reign…”

The detective put his phone away, then dragged the towel over his head again.

“I’m to invite you to dinner in the next week or so, so that you two can go over the details… Assuming you agree, of course." 

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Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito let him have it, then headed back over to the couch, looking under it. Nemea was still there, her fur puffed out and eyes wide. When he tried reaching under, she took a swipe at him, spitting. Okay, leaving her be for now…

He straightened up and sat on the couch. “So, who’s the letter for?” Hakuba was analyzing him earlier, from the look in his eyes, but it was prudent not to comment on that. Detectives seemed to be inclined to do that a lot, anyway, so it’d be redundant.

Hakuba dried his face and hands before anything else, glancing toward Kaito on the couch when he started on his hair. The rough tousling muffled the sounds of the rain, the cat, and Kaito’s question – which he only caught as an after thought. 

“Hm? Oh! The letter… It’s for you, actually." 

He draped the towel around his neck and over his shoulders, reaching into his damp suit jacket for the envelope, crossing the room to approach the other teen. What he pulled out was, indeed, an envelope – but a damp, creased, and somewhat dog-eared one. Still, it was sealed, and he offered it to Kaito. 

"Ah.. sorry about that. It’s from my father. He’s been put in charge of planning another charity event and would like to know if you’d be interested in helping with the entertainment. Details of the event and payment are specified within." 

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Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

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Kaito was now curious. A letter? For who? “I really wasn’t doing anything. It’s not a problem, but you should probably dry yourself off before you catch a cold or something.”

Another boom of thunder pealed, much louder this time. Nemea bounded off the couch and hid under it. “And I’d be an inhospitable host to kick you out to run around outside in this weather. Nobody would even let their dog out in this weather.” (…Shit, his nights working as KID seemed to have started really messing around with his vocabulary.)

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Despite that, Hakuba had to admit that he was impressed by Kaito’s ability to keep up the act, even though he knew that they both knew that the detective knew the truth. It left him feeling just a little bit hurt, but he pushed that away. After all, Kaito was doing what he had to in order to survive, wasn’t he? And Hakuba could understand that. 

Besides, it was far more interesting to observe how Kaito now felt unnatural when compared to his caped alter-ego. The confidence and refinement was still there, but latent. He wondered if this was a conscious decision or if the thief had stolen a far more valuable prize, right under Kaito’s nose…

“I suppose you have a point there…”  Hakuba sniffed, then looked down at himself again, frown returning. “Well, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d very much appreciate the chance to dry off. Thank you, Kuroba-kun.”

The detective removed his shoes first, then socks, and stepped away from the door, reaching out for a towel.

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Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito got up, putting his phone away. Huh, who could be here at a time like this? He opened up the door to a drenched Hakuba. The sight was rather on the surprising and somewhat pathetic side. “Come in.

“Get caught by the rain? …Excuse me for a moment.” Kaito went to get a few towels. One of his detectives getting pneumonia wouldn’t do. He came back, several towels in his arms.

Pathetic, indeed. The normally so well-kept detective stepped in when invited, and made sure that the door was closed against the storm before moving further in. Hakuba stayed at the door, however, dripping, disheveled, and displeased. 

“Ah, thank you… I don’t want to track anything in through your home, I just came to deliver a letter.”  Hakuba inclined his head curiously when Kaito returned with the towels, managing a faint smile of gratitude. “I don’t want to waste too much of your time…”

But he really wanted a towel. Or two. And tea. But he wasn’t about to say that out loud.

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Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito frowned, looking outside. The rain wasn’t really a bad thing, he supposed, but it seemed like it would worsen and quickly at that. His mom was in Hiroshima on a trip, so he had the place to himself. 

Nemea, meanwhile, was curled up on the couch. He sprawled next to her, her only looking up at him for a second and going back to ignoring him. Nothing to do. Still, he could research some gems for the next few heists… He pulled out his phone and punched in a few key words.

Then, abruptly, a knock at the front door.

Hakuba brushed his matted, wet bangs from his face in frustration, huddling as close as he could manage to the door without touching it. The frame and entryway offered some protection from the inclement weather, but the detective was still well on his way to being soaked.

This was well and good for himself, albeit embarrassing,, but would absolutely ruin the envelope and subsequent contents that he carried. 

Thunder rolled overhead, which deepened Hakuba’s frown. He knocked again, much less gentlemanly this time. 

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osakansax:

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The lighter was, perhaps oddly, not quite the trigger that should’ve been lit in his head; rather, its silver glean set but brief sparks in its stead. A clap of thunder, a flash of lightning—light, that illuminated a cross upon the chest. A mumble of muffled words, a white-hot flame—and a feeling that made him sick to his stomach. They were large fragments of a puzzle that was nearly finished, but there was still one piece missing, and the lighter hadn’t led the detective to find it despite.

Still, the rush had left him feeling as if the wind swiftly escaped his breath, and Heiji chose to catch it lest he suffocated himself. His forehead sought the warmth of his hand and thus placed the palm of it gently there whilst he contemplated this still-incomplete storyline.

“… I s’pose it’s done th’ job a bit,” replied the Osakan with some truthful reluctance. “Th…anks, I guess.” 

Gaze averted—though perhaps if he stared at it a little more, that final part would make itself known? No; that would be too much of a wishful thought.

Hakuba hadn’t meant to cause Heiji any discomfort, and the display of such caused him to pause. Clearly, the lighter had triggered something, though the foreign detective wasn’t exactly sure what. Hesitating, Hakuba curled his fingers around the silver object, moving to put it back in its place within his suit jacket.

But then… the thank you. Reluctant or not, there was gratitude and recognition of such. Vulnerability. And that shift of the Osakan’s focus was inviting in a way that startled the halfer, who was only able to stare for a moment. 

“Ah… you’re welcome,” Hakuba managed eventually, blinking in confusion at himself. Expression softening, he smiled – warily, but a smile nonetheless. “Would… it be helpful if I left this with you for the time being?”

Instant regret threatened to flood him at the very idea of it, but Hakuba ignored it. If Hattori wanted it, he would oblige. He wasn’t familiar with this quiet and reasonably calm Osakan, and he wanted to learn more.

Chat by

Adorable M!A’s:

Just A Bit Of Pixie Dust: Look at that! Your muse has grown fairy wings and now has the ability to fly. This lasts 24 hours.
Everybody Wants To Be A Cat: Your muse is a fancy feline for 4 hours.
Lean On Me: With the help of ___ (anon’s choice) your muse will get through something that scared them (the anon can specify or leave it up to the mun) for 3 hours.
Here’s To Never Growing Up: Isn’t that just adorable. Your muse will experience puppy dog love with ___ (anon’s choice) for 2 days.
Thunder: It’s raining outside and your muse is stuck inside with ___ (anon’s choice) and when the power goes out they cuddle to keep warm.
Sweet Nothings: Your muse is full of nothing but happiness and positive things to say for 24 hours.
Ariel: Oh no, your muse has lost it’s voice! But they have to tell ___ (anon’s choice) how they feel! If your muse gets a kiss from the chosen person within 2 days they get their voice back, if not well you’ve seen the movie.

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Yet Another Phantom Thief || closed: whiteknighthakuba

kaitouxjeanne:

Splash. That was the mental sound of her plans getting thrown out the window into the fountain outside. Oh outside, with its fresh night air without high society fuss and sharp, attractive detectives analyzing her every move. She admitted, he was someone she would not be opposed to spending time with.. The men around her weren’t being very interesting. And the thrill from this game of information exchanging under a veneer of flirting was rather tasty. Jeanne, darling, leave the fun after the job. Even if the job is fun.. especially if the job is fun. 

Yes, the job was fun. But a job still meant work had to be done. And hers was cut out with this calculating detective, who seemed to measure her every move. He was on the job, too. In fact, he was protecting the very painting she planned to steal the next night. And now he’d as much used a pair of cuffs on her with his proposal. The young detective found her suspicious, no question. 

But what if she strengthened that veneer? Why not flirt? The thief could deflect his suspicions if she played a harder flirting game. Granted, she’d look rather interested in him, but would that be so bad? There could be less palatable options.. And I do like my dancing and interesting men.

“I’ve caught your attention, you say? I’m honored,” she said, smiling coyly.

Playfully feigning deep thought at his proposal with her finger placed just under chain, she closed her eyes. When she opened them to look at him, there was a mischievous twinkle in them. 

“Well I suppose I shall have to take responsibility and ask you for a dance. It would be a service to my fellow ladies.” 

Jeanne placed her glass on the empty tray of a passing caterer and held a gloved hand to Hakuba with her eyes still twinkling.

“Shall we?”

With a pull of genuine regret, Hakuba set his own glass of cider on the tray without a single sip for himself. It was a bad idea to drink on the job, but worse to do so when luring a woman. At least, this early on in the game. His being a minor only further complicated things. 

So let go of the alcohol he did, and in turn took Jeanne’s hand with his own, touch gentle, but secure. 

“Of course, my lady." 

Hakuba bowed to her again, this time in a more western, theme-appropriate, and then turned to step out among the other dancers on the ballroom floor.

It was then that, as he moved into position to begin the dance step, that he began to regret wearing the sherlock getup. As flashy as it was for the media, it did add bulk and detracted from his form. A pity, that, when with such a beauty.

…but then, he was on a case. So it didn’t matter anyway. 

He waited until she was close, one of his hands moving for her side, the other keeping her hand, before leaning in to ask, quietly. "Pray tell, miss, how many of these lovely ladies and gentlemen do you know?"