Tag Archives: Anonymous

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You open the door to your bedroom and step inside, more than ready to at least try to get some sleep – no matter how little of it you’ll actually end up getting – but stop once your eyes lock onto your pillow. There, nestled comfortably, is a plushie, about the size of your head. A white dove. And, resting next to it is, as you might have expected, a rose. And a handwritten note. “Sleep well, as this little dove does its best to keep your nightmares at bay.”

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“Yet again…” Hakuba said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He glanced to the window, which looked locked and secured as expected, then sighed. “If you’re nearby, Kaitou-san, you really ought to show yourself… Breaking and entering is a serious crime, you know.”

Yet, despite his words, the detective smiled. He took the note and ran his hands over its surface, memorizing the hand-writing, and took it to slip between the pages of his private journal which he kept stored in the lockbox underneath the window seat. The rose he added to his growing collection, slipping it into the vase with care. And the dove? Well…

For once, instead of going through his whole nighttime routine, Hakuba simply got into bed, full suit and all, and pulled it against his face. He hadn’t had a plush in several years and he had to admit that it was very comforting. So much so that within five minutes, the detective was fast into a dreamless sleep. 

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You return home after yet another long day of working on cases, tired, exhausted, and looking to simply sit down and relax for just a few moments, before checking your notes once more. You step into the living room and there, standing in the middle of the table, is a plate with homemade cookies, a cup of hot Earl Grey tea, a teapot and, as you might have expected – a red rose.

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The tea was still hot. Surely, there must be something…? Hakuba touched the rose, as if to prove to himself that this was not a dream, and then hurried to check the room. Behind the curtains, in the closet, the hallway. If Kaitou or whoever this mysterious gift-giver was around, he wanted to know. Had to find them. To ask why. To thank them.

Perhaps also to… casually let it slip that this, the show of affection and kindness, really meant a lot to him. Things had been particularly difficult and exhausting lately, and it was so nice to know that someone knew that he was alive. He was certainly trying, at any rate. 

Unable to find anyone, however, he took a seat in one of the arm chairs next to the table, sighed, and took a sip of tea. Earl Grey, even.  Someone was going to quite a lot of trouble for him…

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…and he wanted to know who.

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You slowly make your way towards the kitchen, sluggish, exhausted. It’s been another long, long night and you haven’t slept at all. How many sleepless nights does that make now? Too many. You sigh and card a hand through your hair, absently mulling over the case notes in your mind as you enter the kitchen, gaze flicking over to the counter – and the steaming cup of coffee comfortably sitting there. Next to another red rose.

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Another… 

The detective looked from the rose to the coffee, then back again, before lifting his head to look around the kitchen. It was silent and still, as it always was so late (or early). Still, he swallowed and offered a small “Hello?” before reaching for the rose, examining it cautiously. 

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Things like this didn’t happen to him. True, he had his admirers, but they had been forced to go through proper channels for some time now. And it wasn’t as if just anyone could get through the security at the Hakuba household. Baaya, perhaps…?  

No, she’d been in bed hours ago. He’d checked on her earlier when pacing the inner perimeter. But then who…? Dare he hope that it be Kaitou Kid? The thought hurt almost as much as it thrilled him. Certainly, Kid was the most logical explanation, for a variety of factors, but… 

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Hakuba brought the rose to his lips and kissed it once, tenderly, taking in that subtle scent. Was it a dream? No; there wasn’t enough fire. Perhaps a trap, then? 

Perhaps.

But if it is, he thought, picking up the coffee cup with his other hand to return to work, I think I’ll allow myself a few moments of foolish enjoyment, anyway… 

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You hear the lightest of a tap come from the living room windows and, curious, you move across the room and push the curtain to the side. The window is open, just an inch or two, and as you press it open fully and look outside, you just barely manage to catch something white flashing in the corner of your eye, before it disappears. You glance down, pausing. Left behind, on the windowsill, is a red rose.

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“What’s this now…?” Hakuba canted his head to one side as he lifted the rose, confused expression softening to something fond as fingertips from his opposite hand moved over the petals gently. Silky velvet. Almost like the smooth fabric of someone’s white suit and cape… He looked out to the garden again, eyes scanning the dark for that same flash of white but, alas. It was gone.

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“…I suppose I should get to writing more riddles, then…" 

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34, 44, 50

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34: What is your preferred projectile?

While I’m quite good with hunting rifles and most semi-automatic weapons, I get the most enjoyment from using a recurve bow – for archery. 

44: How many people, outside of your immediate family, do you know the birthdays of by heart?

If I know a person well enough to keep track of their phone number in my head, I will nearly always also know their birth date. It would be difficult, however, to come up with a specific number of just how many people I know of off of the top of my head… Give me a name and I can tell you their birth date, typically, but the other way around… far more difficult to come up with an estimate. 

50: What is your favorite police procedural?

Ah, that’s a difficult one… To be completely honest, I actually prefer to watch/read criminal procedurals than police ones – for shame, isn’t it? Especially with films like The Sting or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. What can I say? I enjoy heists.

And while we’re on that subject of media recommendations, I must mention the first novel in the Bourne series by Robert Ludlum – The Bourne Identity. The mini-series (1988) is also quite good and faithful to the book, though I imagine most are familiar with the more recent film adaptations. What’s not to love about a government-sanctioned assassin with amnesia, now believed to be rogue and a threat to all?

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What would you use a brick for?

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“Building a house…? I know that the team of scientists in the labs put sterilized bricks in the cages for the rats to walk on, which files down their nails… And I’ve met several people who use bricks to break windows, though I wouldn’t recommend that at all.”

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“It strikes me that this is somewhat of an odd question… I wonder what prompted it?”

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“Bricks are also helpful in gardens to block of sections of flora… And buried under gates helps deter dogs from digging out… I once met someone who filled the holes in bricks with soil and planted small herbs, using it as a pot." 

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"But if it were me, I would probably use a brick to build a house.”