Oh dear.But look at me.
I’m kind of a babe.
Ho-kay maybe a little a lot of babe
Does Hakuba-san have any spare clothes for my best friend here?
“Why… yes, yes I do… have… some… spare clothes… Ah, you’re welcome to come… come over and raid my closet. Ah, I’m certain that I have some … clothing…. … items… that will suffice.."
“It’s fine, honestly.” Akira waved off the apology with practiced false ease. “And you’ll be fine. People of all ages here.“ Students their age, an elderly couple, a pair in their late twenties wearing matching shorts and shirts, all lined up on their mats, driving the kinks from their necks as the class began. “We’ll start in child’s pose, then up to downward dog, and so on.” Sure enough, the instructor (whose name, she announced, was Carol, pronounced Car-roll) laid on her black mat to demonstrate child’s pose, and then stood to watch the students replicate her pose. Akira smiled at Hakuba. “Easy-peasy,“ she whispered as she laid down on her (teal with pink polka dots) mat, “Lemon-squeasy.”
Next was upward dog, in which one stretched out from child’s pose and bent their spine and head towards the heavens, balancing with one’s hands. Hakuba’s spine crackled like bubble wrap.
Then downward dog, in which one reversed upward dog and walked their hands backwards to their legs, bum in the air, stretching the spine and legs as one did so until one was fully upright.
“Tree position can be tricky for newcomers, so use a wall for support if you don’t trust your balance,” Carol advised. She lifted one leg and held it on the other’s inner thigh with ease, lifting and clasping her hands above her head. “Think spring. You are a tree; your arms are your branches swaying in the breeze.“
Akira glanced at Hakuba as she assumed the position and saw the slight grimace on his features. He’d done fine with the basics, but she had no clue as to how his balance fared. Hopefully fine.
Hakuba wasn’t an athlete. He never had been. Jogging every other day and playing tennis on the weekends at the club suited him just fine. The occasional Kaitou KID heist added more cardio. He was physically fit, but he wasn’t exactly what one might call… flexible, for varying definitions of the word. All the same, he was familiar with stretches and, despite how tired he felt, his body responded well to everything he’d asked it to do. Awkwardly in some cases, yes, but he had managed. Mostly by looking to Akira for help and copying what she’d done.
For the tree position, the detective opted to not use the bar. Of course. Why would he need to? He took a deep breath and moved into position, watching the others around him carefully, and matched their movements.
Somehow, perhaps miraculously, he once again pulled off the movement, and held the pose. His form was technically… sound? At least it didn’t look like he was going to hurt himself, though there was still vast room for improvement and increased flexibility and range of motion. But he had done it – mostly – and allowed a triumphant smirk, holding the pose as ordered. Hakuba glanced to his side, nodding at his acquaintance and classmate.
"What’s so hard about yoga, anyway?” he whispered, very unlike a tree.
Then the order was given to switch legs. Hakuba pulled himself out of the pose and then attempted to replicate it with his other, non-dominant, leg in the lead. This was considerably more difficult and proportionally more shaky than the previous attempt. The question was – could he hold it?
The answer was no.
Fortunately, he caught himself with a stumble. No injuries, just awkwardness, and, flushing, adjusted his position on his mat to try again, hoping that no one was staring. Whether or not they were, Hakuba felt that looming feeling of eyes staring, and wished, more than most things, that he was home and hiding from the world.
“Thank you, my dear! Even though it’s your fault that I’m in hot yoga, I very much appreciate you and all of our interactions. Thank you for being such a kind and generous friend.”
“Michiko Akira.” She shook the proffered hand with perhaps too much vigour, her excitement due to prior and (what should be) intimate knowledge of him. Well. Not intimate as in intimate, but more than someone meeting for the first time should know about another’s habits, moods, and thought patterns. Quite a regimented, orderly thought pattern, Hakuba-san had, list and detail-oriented. Her head bowed slightly, she muttered, “Actually, we’ve met. We have class together.
“But then, I sit in the back and you more towards the front so it’s totally fine if you don’t remember me,“ she hastily amended.
Sighing and rubbing her neck, Akira was pleased to see the instructor enter to begin the class.
"Feeling the heat, class?”
Hakuba blinked, turning to look at the girl more closely now. “Oh… Oh, god, actually, yes… I recognized your name, but I suppose I don’t really know you all tha-” he paused, looking sheepishly back to the front of the room at the question directed to the class.
How embarrassing. Someone from his class was into this hot yoga thing. And he hadn’t recognized her until she’d pointed it out. So he looked like a jerk and would have to face her at school with the incriminating knowledge of his yoga-related activities following him in the hallways and classrooms like a vengeful ghost. Dammit.
“Ah…” he looked back at her, voice dropping to an urgent whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you at first… I’m a bit out of sorts. I’ve never done anything like this… yoga thing… before…"
“Hey!” Akira waved at Hakuba. She could almost feel the waves of anxiety rolling off of him. She could definitely see the anxiety in his tense stance, the shorts (Hakuba-san, representative Detective of the East, did not wear shorts).
“First time?” The poor dear looked out-of-sorts in his tank top and those shorts, far from his usual dapper suit. “You can sit next to me, if you like.“
Hakuba swallowed hard, turning to look at the girl who’d called his attention. As if the embarrassment weren’t palpable enough on its own, his face tinted with the attention.
"Ah… yes, it’s… ah, my first day.” Which is what she’d just asked you. The detective winced at his own inability to speak in any sort of coherent manner, and raised a hand to rub at the side of his neck. “Ah… uhm, sure.. I’ll sit with you. Thank you.”
He abandoned his hope of hiding in the darkest corners of the classroom and instead cam to stand, and ultimately sit, next to Akira.
“I’m, ah… Hakuba, by the way. Hakuba Saguru.” He extended a hand toward her. “And you, miss?” Had he not been so distracted by his plight, he might have made a comment about how the girl was cute or sweet or something like that. Alas, he was too out of his comfort zone to even think about it.
harajukuharuspex replied to your post: …
FRICK GO AWAY EMILY MY HEART HURTS
((IKR?!?!??!??! Hakuba was wibbly all day after reading this!))
“I know that you’re the one behind this… Why would you even ASK that?!”
+ whiteknighthakuba is – wait, where?
Akira smiled at the receptionist, who checked the member of the small establishment in. She liked the place, tried to find time two or three times a week. Cozy, not terribly out of the way, perhaps a 10 or 15 minute walk from her apartment, and a fantastic ice cream shop next door. She entered and spread her mat out in her usual spot, middle of the room, off to the right. As the regulars filtered in, she spotted one newcomer – a tall blonde, too tall to be full Japanese (perhaps half?), and clutching a brand-new mat. He settled in, and oh.
A cursory glance at his mind’s contents revealed the inordinate amount of paperwork Nakamori-keibu had assigned the young man for the previous night’s KID heist, and this must be the infamous Hakuba Saguru in her hot yoga class. Delightful.
It had to be one of the most awkward situations that Hakuba had found himself in. Yes, he was wearing black biker shorts and a black tank top. No suit. No tie. No… no shoes. The shorts he was used to for tennis, sure. That was fine. These were even more concealing, but the tank top? And sitting on that mat. It was awkward. Beyond awkward.
The teenage detective glanced around himself warily, confirming the fact that he didn’t know anyone else in the entire room. This was both good and terrifying. Good in that he probably didn’t have to worry about dealing with anyone when he inevitably embarrassed himself, terrifying in that he didn’t know who he could ask help from.
At least Hakuba had managed to find a spot in the back of the group where he would (hopefully) go unnoticed by the rest of the class. Not that he didn’t stick out like a giant sore thumb, easily the tallest and palest in the class. Why had he agreed to this?
Oh, right. After fainting the other night (again), Baaya had taken him to the doctor. And, in exchange for continuing to supply him with cigarettes under the table, he had agreed to try yoga in an unnecessary attempt to reduce his stress levels. Really, that doctor was nuts. If they really wanted to fix him, they’d give him some kind of a medicine that could fix his anxiety. Or, perhaps, figure out that what he really needed was therapy. Not yoga.
Regardless, Hakuba was stuck in the class for the next six weeks at minimum in order to maintain a good relationship with his governess. But… at least he had his case files to think about. And the one he had to work on was of particular interest. Kaitou KID. A favorite subject.
He might have even smiled, thinking about the pages and pages of documents that he had to get read that night. Cross-referencing the previous heist notes and reports… fact-checking with his own database… All that he had to do was get through this god awful class and he would have several hours to do nothing but work.
Bliss.
Though, it was then that he noticed that many of the class were staring at him. “Ah…” he offered uselessly, then looked to the front of the room in embarrassment. Please start soon so I can go home…. please please please.
