Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito blinked. Wait, what? Hakuba looked so pitiful right now. If it was about that question of why he wasn’t currently languishing in a jail cell, Kaito really would like to know what was going on. “Why’re you apologizing?”

“I don’t… I can’t…" 

Hakuba chewed on his lip. It bothered him that he didn’t have an adequate answer for the proverbial elephant in the room. But more than that, it bothered him that he’d managed to upset Kaito. After his more recent interactions with Hattori, the trend of confrontation was difficult to ignore. Perhaps he was the problem, not others. 

Frustrated, he brought a hand to his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes.

"It makes sense that you would deny it, even to me, if it were true. I should stop badgering you about it. I’m… sorry that I’ve been… difficult." 

Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito had kept his pokerface up, but he was a bit irritated. Maybe it was the sarcasm and how Hakuba had him in a corner; the latter is a very bad thing for phantom thieves and left them wary and guarded. “If I am KID, than why haven’t you turned me in, if there’s so much insurmountable evidence?”

He went to get a phone. The thunder was still booming out and, when he picked up the phone, Kaito noted the dead silence on the other end. He headed back over to Hakuba. “Phone lines are down. But, uh, yeah, I’m free then.”

The question stunned the detective to silence, and when Kaito returned, Hakuba’s gaze was fixed on the floor. Suit jacket soaked, hair tangled and damp, and the almost morose frown on his face made him look almost like a dog who’d been reprimanded for tracking mud in. 

After a moment, he shifted his gaze to Kaito again, hesitantly, before nodding.

“Ah.. I’ll let my father know, then… thank you.” His voice and tone were quiet, polite. “And, ah, in that case… might… you have a spare umbrella? It seems that mine was built for the gentle English rain, not…" 

Hakuba winced as shaking thunder cut him off, and he turned his attention back to the floor, fidgeting with the towel in his hands. 

"I’m sorry, Kuroba-kun.”

Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

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“Good. I don’t want him shooting the entertainment.” The relief was short-lived however.

…Ohcrap. Backpedaling time. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m not KID.” Though, really, given that whole mess with Janus shooting him and how Nakamori found out, he wasn’t really sure if Nakamori had told Hakuba. Or if Hakuba had visited when he was high out of his mind on pain medication. If either were the case, he may as well just end the charade.

Fortunately for Kaito, no one tells Hakuba anything. Ever. Especially when it’s important. 

The woefully unaware detective sighed, expression turning dry, then irritated, and it took him a moment to force a painfully neutral appearance, which he did with a sigh.

“Right. Of course. Despite the insurmountable evidence and your consistent missteps, coupled by correlating behavior, you’re not KID. My apologies; I must have forgotten. It must be why I haven’t turned you in yet." 

He pulled the towel under an arm and retrieved his cellphone again, frowning.

"If you’ll allow me to use your phone, I can call for a car. My mobile appears to be out of service- damn this storm. As for the dinner,” his tone abruptly changed to something more even, calm. Professional. “Are you free next Tuesday evening?" 

Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Regardless of audience, there would be much fun to be had and smiles were something worth making. He put the letter away with a flourish of a puff of smoke.

“I agree to it, but I have two questions. Does your dad have a gun and does he have it on him normally? I ask this because I have a few ideas for openers and I’d rather not get shot because he’s like that Delon guy.” (Shot again, more like). And he just slipped up a bit and referenced something he shouldn’t know. He cursed internally.

The puff of smoke garnered a roll of Hakuba’s eyes, but he otherwise didn’t react. To that, anyway. On the subject of his father and Delon, however, he sighed and returned to the work of toweling off his hair. 

“He carries a firearm, yes, but… He’s a very careful, deliberate man. Not like that hothead Detective Delon. You needn’t worry about that. Every one of his actions are calculated through algorithms so complex that even I don’t understand it at times." Hakuba pulled the towel off, revealing a messy mane of sandy blond. He combed through it with his fingers.  

"One thing I can say for certain, is that he will not shoot unless he absolutely has to… and it takes a lot to get him to that point.”

He couldn’t resist a lopsided grin, then. “But… aren’t you used to dodging bullets by now?" 

osakansax:

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“Of course.”

Did he have it? Heiji wasn’t sure, and would certainly not say that he was so. Besides, being sons of police superintendents, he could easily acquire that sort of information anyway… if that prideful lion stopped dangling its mane all over his head. “I… really shouldn’ be keepin’ ya any longer here. Ya probably have a case ta get ta, or somethin’.”

Certainly awkward, indeed. Especially when he would’ve loved to just shove a “get out” instead of those mess of words. Then again, being restricted by a knee brace and a bed did plenty to help that out.

“Something like that, yes. God speed your recovery, Hattori-san.

Hakuba nodded his head to Heiji as a display of respect – or at least formality- and took another step back, before turning and walking to the door. Had he successfully interacted with his colleague without being physically assaulted? Was it possible that the two had had a moment of some kind?! The foreign detective wasn’t yet sure, but he intended to get back at Kaitou for the awkwardness either way.

osakansax:

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“—That’s fine. No need fer that.”

It seemed that was all pride would permit of the Osakan detective. A few flashes of memories, yet the biggest of gaps was yet to be completely filled in. Intense frustration continued to pulse into his system, but his expression remained decidedly annoyed in a light-hearted fashion. “Sorry KID’s made ya come this far out. Ya needn’ worry ‘bout me no more.”

Though, that thought was decidedly curious. How did KID know it would be this annoying detective that held at least some of those missing fragments of his memory? It was just as perplexing as the idea that the flash of silver his memories allowed of him did not belong to the lighter in the foreign teen’s possession.

Still, he did not want to trouble anyone else more for his disturbingly poor memory. At this point, it might be best to visit the scene in where he was found—even if it had burned down to mere ashes upon pavement. “I can handle it from here.”

Hakuba breathed an audible sigh of relief, then blushed faintly at his very obvious outward faux pas. He cleared his throat with a small cough into a first, then busied himself, stowing the lighter away in its rightful place once more.

“Certainly, Hattori-san." 

He took a step back, then hesitated again. Was that really all? 

"Ah, if… you should desire any further assistance of any kind, I’m… assuming that you have my mobile number, correct?”

The foreign detective said this with a wince, but steeled himself afterward, inwardly blaming Kaitou for this entirely awkward interaction. 

See? We can have a civil conversation… There was no need to worry, Kaito-kun. 

Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito blinked and took the envelope. “Really?” He split in an ear to ear grin. This would be quite a lot of fun. “…I’m guessing I have to keep it classy and a bit less… exuberant than usual, given the crowd.”

(And there’d be some problems with how he preferred white suits. Still, he could make that a part of the act, KID appearing to crash the event and revealing it’s just the magician they hired. Oh, delicious irony.)

“So, what’s the charity event for, anyway?”

“Ah… let me check.”  Hakuba retrieved his mobile next, pulling up a scheduling application. “Ah, yes. The Foster Care event. An independent group has been sponsored by my father’s department… I don’t think that children will be there, but it’s likely that those graduated from the program will attend. That said, you should have mostly free reign…”

The detective put his phone away, then dragged the towel over his head again.

“I’m to invite you to dinner in the next week or so, so that you two can go over the details… Assuming you agree, of course." 

Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito let him have it, then headed back over to the couch, looking under it. Nemea was still there, her fur puffed out and eyes wide. When he tried reaching under, she took a swipe at him, spitting. Okay, leaving her be for now…

He straightened up and sat on the couch. “So, who’s the letter for?” Hakuba was analyzing him earlier, from the look in his eyes, but it was prudent not to comment on that. Detectives seemed to be inclined to do that a lot, anyway, so it’d be redundant.

Hakuba dried his face and hands before anything else, glancing toward Kaito on the couch when he started on his hair. The rough tousling muffled the sounds of the rain, the cat, and Kaito’s question – which he only caught as an after thought. 

“Hm? Oh! The letter… It’s for you, actually." 

He draped the towel around his neck and over his shoulders, reaching into his damp suit jacket for the envelope, crossing the room to approach the other teen. What he pulled out was, indeed, an envelope – but a damp, creased, and somewhat dog-eared one. Still, it was sealed, and he offered it to Kaito. 

"Ah.. sorry about that. It’s from my father. He’s been put in charge of planning another charity event and would like to know if you’d be interested in helping with the entertainment. Details of the event and payment are specified within." 

Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

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Kaito was now curious. A letter? For who? “I really wasn’t doing anything. It’s not a problem, but you should probably dry yourself off before you catch a cold or something.”

Another boom of thunder pealed, much louder this time. Nemea bounded off the couch and hid under it. “And I’d be an inhospitable host to kick you out to run around outside in this weather. Nobody would even let their dog out in this weather.” (…Shit, his nights working as KID seemed to have started really messing around with his vocabulary.)

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Despite that, Hakuba had to admit that he was impressed by Kaito’s ability to keep up the act, even though he knew that they both knew that the detective knew the truth. It left him feeling just a little bit hurt, but he pushed that away. After all, Kaito was doing what he had to in order to survive, wasn’t he? And Hakuba could understand that. 

Besides, it was far more interesting to observe how Kaito now felt unnatural when compared to his caped alter-ego. The confidence and refinement was still there, but latent. He wondered if this was a conscious decision or if the thief had stolen a far more valuable prize, right under Kaito’s nose…

“I suppose you have a point there…”  Hakuba sniffed, then looked down at himself again, frown returning. “Well, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d very much appreciate the chance to dry off. Thank you, Kuroba-kun.”

The detective removed his shoes first, then socks, and stepped away from the door, reaching out for a towel.

Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito got up, putting his phone away. Huh, who could be here at a time like this? He opened up the door to a drenched Hakuba. The sight was rather on the surprising and somewhat pathetic side. “Come in.

“Get caught by the rain? …Excuse me for a moment.” Kaito went to get a few towels. One of his detectives getting pneumonia wouldn’t do. He came back, several towels in his arms.

Pathetic, indeed. The normally so well-kept detective stepped in when invited, and made sure that the door was closed against the storm before moving further in. Hakuba stayed at the door, however, dripping, disheveled, and displeased. 

“Ah, thank you… I don’t want to track anything in through your home, I just came to deliver a letter.”  Hakuba inclined his head curiously when Kaito returned with the towels, managing a faint smile of gratitude. “I don’t want to waste too much of your time…”

But he really wanted a towel. Or two. And tea. But he wasn’t about to say that out loud.