osakansax:

Hadn’t the rainy season passed already? The storm certainly blew its way into the district like it hadn’t. Granted, Heiji had been running around this part of town for his current case all day, and without much look into the weather forecast. The Osakan was only half glad he decided against bringing his cap—the last thing he wanted getting wet was that beloved headgear of his. He only wished he remembered to lug an umbrella along with him. Clouds knew in their stormy disposition that Kazuha would yell his ears off if he managed to catch a cold or some other sickness in this weather.

Alleyways—bless their shortcuts—were something of a curse with the downpour, what with all the sewage and refuse cluttered everywhere. Japan was very effective in its methods of recycling but it still stood that garbage was garbage and, until they were sent off to landfills, they stunk places to high hell. The dark-skinned detective was more than glad to burst in to some boarded up building from behind to be rid of the rain, among other things. Fingers moved quickly, removing the very damp windbreaker and letting it fall to a sloshy, wet mess on the floor that was sure to have more than just a layer of dust. He’d have removed other items of clothing in haste had he not heard the same sound coming from the front of the establishment, causing him to freeze in place instead. Someone else was in here with him?

Heiji carefully crawled around his dim surroundings, peering from corners to get a closer look of the other “patron” inside. He couldn’t be sure if they were friend or foe, even tensing up at the flash of silver until the small amount of light revealed the faint outline of the one individual the Kansai teen hoped he wouldn’t have to run into just yet.

“Oh, great,” the dark-skinned detective groaned, revealing himself from his hiding place. “How’s it that I always run inta ya?”

Shit. Of course it would have to be that Osakan, of all of the people in the area, to pick the same building to escape the rain. 

Hakuba grimaced, turning to put his shoulder to the Osakan while he hurriedly moved to rebutton his shirt, tucking the cross back underneath his damp clothing. He hated the way that it clung to his skin, but it was better than the alternative. He forced a small, but pleasant smile, and glanced back at the other teenage detective.

“I was just wondering the same thing, actually. Did you forget your umbrella? I thought the Japanese were always careful to carry one. Some kind of silly superstition?”

Early evening’s twilight haze had been interrupted by the rain and wind, covering the city in a dismal grey. As sudden as the storm had been, Hakuba hadn’t managed to get back to library where he’d intended to meet Baaya when finished with his work. This left him stranded on the deserted sidewalk with no umbrella, no further progress on the investigation, and squeaking shoes. Not that it mattered all too much; there was still time before the case reports were due, and the evidence would be much easier to come by after a good night’s rest. Resigned, the blond detective fancied that he deserved a well-earned cigarette while he waited for his governess, and strode ahead with that goal in mind. 

This new search brought him to the doorway of an abandoned building. It had once been a cafe, and while the windows had been boarded up, it still seemed dry enough. He pushed the creaky door open and stepped inside, out of the rain. But while he was grateful to be out of the weather, plenty of it had come with him. Sighing, he shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over the back of one of the three-legged chairs near the entrance. Next came his tie, which he loosed and draped likewise. Once settled, he’d be able to call Baaya and give them time to drive while waiting. Not a bad spot, really. Next, he began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top, only then taking an idle glance around. Fortunately, there was plenty enough light to see by, reflecting off of any metallic surface in the diner. This included the small, silver cross that the detective wore around his neck, which swung free as his shirt came undone.