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Yet Another Phantom Thief || closed: whiteknighthakuba

kaitouxjeanne:

Her eyes widened slightly. Detective. He’s so young though? Ahh, probably another police force kid. Just when you think getting a separate body got you away from one detective’s kid, you run into another. And this one is so composed and rather a bit too familiar with this sort of game. A pity about the detective part, he’s cute. Ah well, it’s best not to play the hunting game when I’m hunting for information. Let’s smooth this off.

“You may use my first name to address me,” she said with a smile as she allowed him to kiss her hand. After he had done so, she squeezed lightly, just barely keeping a grip on the hand that had just held hers. She looked up into his eyes with her violet ones as her smile turned up playfully at sandy-haired young man.

“That beautifully explains the outfit. But it doesn’t quite illuminate on  why you’re keeping away from the ‘joys’ of the party as you seem dressed for the occasion under it.”

She gestured with her other hand to the dance floor people seemed to be gravitating towards. 

“I’m sure the ladies would miss you on the dance floor, if your manners say anything about your dancing.”

Jeanne let go of his hand as gently as she had taken hold of it.

“Why don’t you prevent that sad happening now? I’ll even stay to behold such a noble feat.” 

 If he stays, I’ll observe him. Who knows what this young Sherlock has up his sleeve. Regular lasers and traps she could do, but having a sharp detective on her tail would complicate matters. If not, then it’s about time for me to retire shortly for a stroll — for some less high society air and to go over the mapping of the area. 

So much said in such a short interaction thus far. Hakuba looked from her hand to her face and noted her eyes, wondering if violet and mystery went hand in hand. But as alluring as this Jeanne was, she couldn’t possibly compare to one who wore a matching gaze. 

The informality said so much. Jeanne was friendly. Personable. Someone that he would likely select for companionship at a normal benefit or charity event. But here, on the case, everything about her rose red flags. She was observing him, studying him, just as he did of her. Her flattery and words were persuasive, carefully chosen to spur action. 

But he would not fall prey. He would use her first name, with proper honorifics, but would not extend the same courtesy. He would flirt, but only passively. And until he was certain that she was not a threat, he would use her to garner further information from those around them. 

“Alas, miss Jeanne,” Hakuba replied with a mix of amusement and false regret. “While I can, and do, on occasion, dance… I’m not here to entertain. It’s my duty to gather details and protect what my client has asked me to. And, currently, you’ve captured my attention. So the only way that I’ll move to the dance floor is if you accompany me. I’ll leave the choice to you." 

Yes, all professional. Not self-indulgent at all. 

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Yet Another Phantom Thief || closed: whiteknighthakuba

kaitouxjeanne:

Raising an eyebrow slightly, she smiled at his answer. Seems like someone isn’t lacking in confidence. After coming closer, Jeanne could see he was dressed for the occasion as well as what under his cap. Or handsomeness. Impressive how he achieves that, while being Sherlock Holmes at a high society social function.

“I’m glad you always enjoy yourself. Life must be endlessly interesting for you,” she teased. “As for your question, my name is Jeanne, Jeanne d’Arc. And I’m sure the pleasure is all mine.”

This is definitely not his first high society function. Not with that manner. And the owner is glancing at him, every so often. And every so often, that expression gets more smug.

“May I inquire as to your name, young Sherlock?”

The tease went ignored, as did most of the lady’s more superfluous words as the detective picked through the dialogue, analyzing her tone, mannerism, and glances. Words were cheap in a place like this; body language told it all. 

Still, he bowed to her, opting for the more traditional Japanese style to keep it brief. When he rose, he reached out his hand for one of hers, if permitted.

“Certainly, Jeanne d’Arc. My name is Saguru Hakuba,” he said, moving to kiss her hand, if obtained, skipping over the formality of his middle name entirely. Then, raising his head, coy smirk in place on his lips, added: “Detective." 

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Yet Another Phantom Thief || closed: whiteknighthakuba

kaitouxjeanne:

Rays of moonlight peeked in through the arched windows of the grand ballroom. One could observe all the flowers, fancy dresses, waiters serving appetizers — all the makings of a grand party. Only one detail made it a special party. At the very end of the room, where a stage platform was set up, was a large painting of an idyllic lake scene. Curtains that had been covering it lay to the side after the revealing. One corner of the curtain was caught on the stand the owner used to reveal the painting. However, only one person had made this observation.

Our lone observer was a beautiful blonde with her long hair in an elegant updo and her slender figure emphasized in a floor-length white dress containing a revealing low back. Amidst her friends and admirers, she sipped her cider and gazed at the owner thoughtfully. 

This demon seems bolder than the usual. Having such a large scale party right before the night I announce the heist will be executed? There aren’t even an abnormal number of guards. 

The owner, a man, in addition to the usual characteristic coldness of the eyes of a possession, was looking awfully smug. 

He’s got something, some sort of trump or safety card. But what?

Jeanne scanned the rest of the room slowly. She saw no extra traps, lasers or the like. Her eyes stopped on a young man clad in what appeared to be from the book, “Sherlock Holmes”. 

Well, well. Who’s this? He’s got a competent feel to him and his eyes have a rather sharp expression for a painting-viewing party. He’s not at all dressed either. I suppose I should find out who this fellow is. Charm on~


The girl pardoned herself from the group and picked up another glass of cider from a passing waiter with a nod of thanks. Smoothly, she made her way over to the young Sherlock. When she got to him, Jeanne held out the cider to him with a smile that had charmed many.

“Enjoying the party?”

“Always,” came the answer, smooth and confident with a hint of amicable amusement in his tone. Hakuba took the cider gently, nodding his thanks, and offered a smile of his own in kind. 

Parties like this were something that he was used to. Indeed, it was rare that he went more than a couple of weeks without being dragged to one high society function or the other, particularly when home in London. Far less usual, but still not rare, was attending such a thing for work. He still wore his formals, but underneath the brown cloak and deerstalker cap which, while he acknowledged the impropriety of it, did make him stand apart from the other black suits and ties present. This is what his employer had wanted and, in truth, what he himself desired.

It was far easier to pick him out of a crowd for the lurking paparazzi that way. 

“And yourself, miss- ah, I don’t believe I caught your name. Who, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

She was beautiful, there was no question about that. Although he was on the case, Hakuba was not about to dismiss his own interest. 

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osakansax:

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“— H… Hold it.”

His mind fails to stop what his lips blurt out. The Osakan’s expression of confusion falters into a pained stumble and he sighs. The inward curses he was roaring at himself… “… Jus’ what exactly do ya mean ‘bout secrets?”

Heiji was bracing for it. Some misguided presumption that he was missing some gaps here and there—or perhaps the blond detective might divert away from the subject and actually leave? That would certainly be some good graces of luck in it for him there. Still, he couldn’t help the curiosity. If KID did believe that Hakuba knew something about this that could help… Well. There could certainly be a roundabout way to go about getting that information, right?

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Hakuba, who had turned to take his leave, reluctantly held his position at the Osakan’s request. At the question, he raised an incredulous brow and turned to glance back over his shoulder, chuckling in amusement. 

“If you’re joking, Hattori-san, it’s not funny,” he answered at first, then let his shoulders sag. “But, ah…”

Was the memory loss legitimate, then? If he’d forgotten, then it ought to stay forgotten. That would make things easier for the foreign detective – much easier. But then, how sincere would his apology stand if Hakuba refused the opportunity to play the part of the Good Samaritan? And more importantly, the foreign detective did not want to see how Kaitou might react. 

Hakuba sighed again. “The secret is what started the entire argument, Hattori-san. I’d prefer not to repeat it, but perhaps this would jog your memory?”

He reached into his suit jacket to dig for the lighter, which he pulled out and held up for the other detective to see.  

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osakansax:

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“… Go ahead.”

Like a cornered and wounded animal, Heiji remained sitting up in his bed with eyes meticulously watching the foreign detective’s further movements into the room. Whilst moving the folder out of the way for the vase, he verily wished that he could toss him out to spare the headache…

Well. As if there was anything else he could do to throw him out the window, or call the nurses (though, certainly, his pride would’ve prevented him from ever picking the latter choice). “Perhaps… doubt it, though. I’m passin’ by jus’ fine.”

All things considered, no one close enough needed to know about his lack thereof knowledge considering this event. Hakuba having such of it was the last thing the Osakan wanted him to know—it would be in his nature to throw a barb about it without physical repercussions.

“Fine, fine, indeed. I’m glad to hear it, then.”

Hakuba set the vase down, carefully brushed the plants to adjust the arrangement. When finished, he stood back to admire the work for a moment. 

“I thought the request was odd, anyway. The last time I saw you, you were quite healthy. Ready to kill, perhaps, but not in peril. I left for London immediately after, so I’m not sure what that thief was thinking. Ah well.”

The blond detective turned to look down at Heiji, raising a faint brow, smile easy and pleasant. Mostly because it sounded like he was going to be able to leave without further time investment, which made him happy.

“In that case, I’ll wish you luck and a speedy recovery… and apology, once more, for things between us in the past.” Hakuba sighed, expression evening out. “Don’t think that your keeping my secrets has gone unnoticed or unappreciated, either. Adieu, detective." 

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osakansax:

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The flowers were noted, though it slightly pained him to know that his understanding of the language hidden behind those petals was limited. He certainly needed to look that up later. That confusion seemed to deepen into a slight frown. “… Ya heard wrong. I never asked him ‘bout needin’ yer help. At all.” 

Heiji remembered the short visit from the phantom thief—how could he, with the peculiar predicament he seemed to have gotten himself into? Eyes darted back to the nightstand, where he placed the folder—the gem KID stolen should be back in the hands of the owner. He’d requested Otaki to return it in exchange for the file on his case. “Mutual or otherwise, I’m ‘fraid he sent ya on a wild goose chase.”

“It’s not like KID to waste my time… off the clock, anyway." 

Hakuba stepped further into the room, invited or not, en route to the folder laiden nightstand. It was more difficult to control his temper around Hattori than the half-brit wanted to admit, but he somehow held it in.

"I will take your word for it if there’s really nothing that I can do to assist you, Hattori-san; I do not wish to antagonize you further. Perhaps he thought that I had some knowledge that you were lacking.” Pause. “Ah, might I set this here?” he asked, gesturing to the vase and then to the nightstand.

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osakansax:

Frustrated eyes glanced over the information in the file given by Otaki one last time before Heiji closed the folder and set it on the nightstand. He’d been in Tokyo, not Nagoya… but he was sure of the very opposite! Had he found a lead? Was this linked to the fire at all, or something else entirely? His memory is immaculate—to his knowledge—so why was this so hard to recall? Too many questions with little answers. Perhaps he really should take it easy resting this time around…

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His barrel of swimming thoughts rolled into a brief period of calm at the voice, though perhaps white hot rage churned in its place when he realized who it was. Heiji tensed and steadied himself, lest that unbridled (and, perhaps, slightly surprising) anger manifest into something decidedly harmful.

“… What’re ya doin’ here?” Contained uncertainty laced his tone. “Shouldn’ ya be chasin’ KID or somethin’?”

“I’m not all that interested in pursuing a sheep in wolves’ clothing, Hattori-san… homicide is much more my department. But since we’re on the subject of KID anyway…" 

Hakuba let himself into the room, pushing a faint smile. He’d expected the hints of anger, but not the apparent confusion. He closed the door and raised a hand, showing the flowers – now neatly in a vase, with water, and a pale blue ribbon around the glass stem. 

"It would seem that we have a mutual friend between us. His note to me suggested that you might require my assistance in some way. So I’ll pose the question to you: why am I here – and – what can I do for you?”

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osakansax:

“Finally wrestled it out’f th’ ol’ man. Th’ report only says that they found me somewhere in Tokyo, not Nagoya… some blocks away there was a fire ta an abandoned cafe…

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Can’ help but wonder’f maybe I was involved with that? Ain’ sure… Th’ doc said I didn’ have any burns or nothin’ when I came in… but why Tokyo of all places…?”

It took a couple of phone calls, but Hakuba was able to procure the police report that in turn gave him the information he was after. That is, the location of the hospital in which Hattori Heiji and been admitted. The fire raised questions, but the foreign detective decided to wait and gather more evidence before coming to any sort of theory – at least for the time being.

He checked in at the nurse’s station, then approached the door in question, crocus bunch in hand. Not wanting to disturb a potentially sleeping Osakan, Hakuba quietly opened the door wide enough to poke his head in, careful to keep his expression neutral, but on the docile side. 

“Ah, Hattori-san…?"