I found this tonight while looking for something else for Epic Conan Fanfic aka The Call of the Raven (which Clover and I have begun working on again). Since the story primarily focuses on the relationship between Shinichi and Kaito, Kaito/Hakuba is relegated to sub plot status and we don’t get to do a ton with it, even though it’s been plotted and there are extensive notes etc. etc. etc…  we talk about ‘Hakaito’ a lot, actually, but yeah…  this means we write short stories (like Snow) instead. And then they sit there collecting dust – except when I find them and post them. Like now.

This one is… a bit far off, but before Snow. Hakuba and Kaito have been together for a while, and Hakuba’s supposed to leave Japan for university soon. Because of the distance, Hakuba’s having concerns… which results in a lot of anxiety… which means he wants to turn to one of his staple vices – smoking. Unfortunately, Kaito finds out and confronts him about it, asks him to quit, and Hakuba… does not react well. After a brief argument, he takes the cigarettes from his suit jacket and tears them apart, screaming that, fine, he’ll give them up. They make up and things are fine… … … maybe. 

Cigarettes

As Hakuba held his sleeping lover, he couldn’t prevent his thoughts from roving over their earlier argument. He’d gotten so upset… almost angry, over what? A pack of cigarettes? He dipped his fingers deeper into the sea of wild, fluffy hair that made Kaito’s mane, stroking it softly, gently massaging his scalp. It wasn’t like him to get so agitated over anything, much less something as material and juvenile. What was his problem? 

A mild heat rose in the detective’s cheeks as he mulled over what had been said, how he’d acted. He’d broken down and cried. Why were they so important to him? Was it the addiction?  Hakuba wished that he knew. Even then, safe and warm in his home, nestled in his bed with the one person he believed he could trust more than anyone or anything, he longed for the comfort that just having a pack around meant. 

Perhaps it would be best to let it go, Hakuba thought to himself. Getting so worked up over anything, much less a dirty habit like smoking, would do him no good. It was a distraction from his work and from survival. A crutch. And if Kaito had noticed, as careful as he’d been, then… others might have, too. And he couldn’t have that. Though, Kaito-kun was unusually perceptive. Perhaps no one else had…

Hakuba sighed. It was a soft, resigned sound, designed to sound more like breathing and less like defeat, out of fear and consideration that he might wake Kaito with his ridiculous existential quandary. Even if no one else knew, which Hattori-san and Kudo-san now certainly did (colleagues that he respected and had never wanted to have known, what had gone through his mind? Why had he offered Kudo-san a cigarette? He should have known that there were circumstances… It had been autonomous…), the fact that Kaito had noticed bothered him.

Had noticed and found it… a turn off, in his words. 

Not enough to keep him from coming around, but… Hakuba looked down at the sleeping figure in his arms, concerned. What if his appeal left? Even if he stopped smoking now, would that be enough? He knew he drank too much, too. And spent far too much time ruminating over the past. And, although he’d been faithful to him since their last heated discussion on the topic, Hakuba couldn’t seem to stop himself from looking for potential partners. He did it without realizing it, and always stopped himself when he noticed what he was doing. But it was ingrained in him like noticing the clues and specifics of a case; only with physical attractiveness, names, family importance, financial status, position in society… instead of just dates and times.

It made him sick. Kaito-kun deserved far better than that. And asking him to give up the cigarettes – no, not even to do that, he only let him know how he felt about it – was out of concern for his health. Possibly his reputation, as well. What would he do if his father found out about the cigarettes? About the fact that he’d started smoking when he was thirteen? Fourteen? And that Baaya had been responsible? He could see the disappointed look on his face without even stretching his imagination. It would hurt him. And having that separation between himself and his father… driving that wedge between them even further… would… 

Hakuba froze where he sat, stiffened for a moment while he remembered how to breathe. It was painful to think about that. Too painful. Oh, if only he had a cigarette, it’d-

No. 

He steeled himself, setting his jaw firmly. No, he did not need a drug to cope. He could go without. The problems that he had, the anxieties that he suffered with mere thoughts were the result… or at least complicated by his turning to unhealthy means of distraction instead of dealing with the problem head on. He hadn’t talked to his father about what he’d been through, and that had been a sticking point. The vast canyon between their understanding was because Hakuba didn’t trust him enough to talk to him, and his father knew this. 

Why didn’t he trust his father? What had he ever done to make Hakuba think that he couldn’t go to him?

Even at that moment, Hakuba didn’t know. He couldn’t tell his mother, either, despite… despite the fact that she already knew. He hadn’t told her, but she had known all along. She let him be, which he preferred, but even that made things uneasy. Why… Why couldn’t he talk to his parents?

Why had he let them argue over him? Over his depression and silence and the mysterious bruises? He was the reason that they were split up, living completely separate lives in completely different countries. Were they happy that way? Hakuba raised a hand to run through his own hair, fingers coming to rest on the bridge of his nose between his closed eyes, pinching to circumvent some of the building pressure in his head.

Life had been much simpler before Kuroba Kaito. His secret had been safe, and all he’d had to do was get through the day without any major confrontations and he’d be okay. School, study sessions, cases, laboratory database updates, then reading at home. Simple. Easy. A night cap of a little red wine and he’d settle into his bed and, for the most part, spend a dreamless night and start again. Five months in Japan, five months in the United Kingdom, ending with two glorious months in France. He just had to get through it and….

No. He was staying in Japan. For Kaito. It would be a long stretch, and he’d spend the time normally spent in Paris with his mother, instead, but that would be all right. He would graduate soon and start university in England, and settle into a more consistent life. It would be fine. Wouldn’t it? If he could bring himself to leave that long.

The detective opened his eyes and glanced down at Kaito, so peaceful and dear, nestled against his chest. What sort of trouble would Kaito get into without him? Hakuba wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that. Or what he, himself, would do when left to his own devices for too long. Odd, he considered, and silly… being afraid of being alone after years and years of being nothing but. It made him smile, just a faint little crook at the corner of one side of his mouth. What a fool.

But then, Kaito had accepted him. All of him. There were many secrets that Hakuba had kept to himself, but for the most part, anything unearthed had been received with understanding and care. Even the little silver cross that he wore underneath his clothes. It glinted in the faint light of the dying fire, still around his neck, draped near Kaito’s face. He hadn’t asked any questions or called him out for being superstitious. Honestly, a man of logic with a relic like that. Hakuba couldn’t help it. If there were a spot in Hell waiting for him, he wanted to be prepared… not that a simple cross would save him, but it couldn’t hurt.

Honestly, what was he doing? A man of God, parading about in a foreign country pretending to be a cold and logical man of science and reason. Which he was, but… What would Kudo-san think if he knew about the cross? Or, heaven forbid, Hattori-san. He didn’t want to know the answer to that, either. It would never come up, not unless Kaito-kun betrayed him. But so far, against every preconceived notion that Hakuba had anticipated, he hadn’t. Not yet. He didn’t dare hope that the day wouldn’t come, because it always did, but perhaps…

With another sigh, Hakuba leaned back, returning his hand to Kaito’s hair. He was being ridiculous. And all over a pack of cigarettes. Could he give them up? He’d always thought that the one per month limit set by Baaya was so reasonable. And now that he was an adult, it wasn’t even shady. Yet he worked so hard to keep the dirty habit out of everyone’s knowledge. Why? If the idea of others knowing bothered him so much, then why did he do it? Did his entire life need to be a lie? He’d been so untouchable. The walls that he’d put into place had been so utterly effective, keeping everyone out but… but Kaito-kun.

And even then, it would eventually come to an end. Whether Kaito-kun would tire of him, or the distance when he left Japan, he wasn’t sure. But when it was over, he’d put up new walls. Stronger ones. And he’d throw himself into his work and studies and it wouldn’t even matter. Hell, he could pick up the habit again then, if he wanted to, and go back to the pubs on the weekends, make new ‘friends,’ and please his mother by pretending that he was carrying on, being social, being acceptable.

More pain. When would it stop broiling over? Hakuba closed his eyes again, squeezing them tightly. He’d be okay. He was always okay. No matter what happened, Hakuba could maintain a calm and collected disposition, and move through life, putting on a show that made it all look effortless. As soon as the school year was over, he’d start over again, and he would make sure that there were no cracks this time. No openings for someone like Kuroba to see the hidden pain. He could give up smoking until then. Surely he could. He’d find something else to  dull the ache. Kaito himself had done so much for him already…

He looked up at the ceiling, believing for half a moment that he was already back in London. Having Kaito there in his arms seemed somehow fitting, even though it actually made little to no sense. And yet, he couldn’t deny that he wanted that.

Hakuba, pull yourself together… this is ridiculous.

But was it? Everything was so scrambled in his head, he couldn’t decide. It was the perfect time for a cigarette and he had none. Only Kaito, whom he could nearly admit, privately, that he loved.

This night, he knew, was only the first in many sleepless nights to come.