Kaito was sitting/balancing crosslegged on the backrest of the sofa in his hotel suite, a bowl of breakfast cereal in his left, spooning a big spoon full of cereal into his mouth with the other. He loved it when the stuff was still crunchy, so he was chewing happily, listening to the loud crunches it made.
Today he was not wearing any disguises, so it was his plain, pale face with light blue eyes looking down at the stranger. He had taken a shower earlier and hadn’t bothered to comb just yet, so his dark brown hair was even more of a mess than it usually was.
The stranger on his sofa had been stripped of his shoes, jacket and pullover, hauled onto the sofa and covered with a wool blanket. He was blond, tall and when Kaito had picked him up late at night, completely drunk.The thief had been casing a joint, a gallery, wearing the guise of a young woman and on his way home he’d been harrassed by two guys that were more than a little tipsy and this one had tried to interfere. The other two had taken off quickly after he stepped on one of their toes hard enough and accidentally ellbowed the other in his solar plexus. Drunk blondie though, was ready to fall over all by himself and babbling in a mix of Japanese and English. That had somehow made him curious, so he took him along to his hotel room and let him sleep it off on the couch.
Morning had come and given him enough time to frisk through the blonds stuff. Wallet, keys, two handkerchiefs, condoms, cigaretts and lighter all normal so far, but the notebook and pen, gloves, evidence bags, zipties and handcuffs – that was screaming law enforcement. Particularly interesting he had found the old pocket watch, a very nice piece, not that much value, but very well cared for. The hunting knive was a little unique, too, good quality judging by how well it worked when he’d cut an apple with it.
The stranger was stirring, so he must be waking up. Grinning widely he leaned a little forward, watching the strangers face. “Morning, sunshine!”
Morning? Sunshine?
The headache that permeated Hakuba’s thoughts was not at all conducive to parsing the meaning of those two, far-too-cheerful words, but his other senses were working in the absence of his mind. Hotel room, judging by the state of the nearby linens and the state of the couch that he was pressed upon. The fabric, too; cheap, easily cleaned, but comfortable enough.
He swallowed hard, groaning despite his best efforts, and pushed himself up just enough to lift his head, finding himself staring face to face with… who…?
Shuddering, Hakuba laid his head back down and rubbed the side of his face with a hand, squinting up at the nearby stranger. “Ah…” he mumbled, struggling to get his thoughts together. He vaguely remembered a woman in need of help, but how did he get…?
“Pardon, you are…?"