Soapbox on… The “Sherlock Getup”

image

“I’ll clear the air right here and now: I do not typically wear the deerstalker cap and Inverness cape as seen in the photograph above.

"The costume (as it is) was originally intended for a single-time exclusive interview. My agent at the time pushed for the look in order to raise publicity for my work. Sensationalism, really. As it was London, we were met with (mostly) great success. Those who didn’t care for British cliches rolled their eyes and continued to ignore me, while others absolutely lapped it up.

"The headline and photos were very attractive, but the article itself did little to really outline the parallels between myself and Holmes… not that I am actually in any measure as fine a detective as he was reported (in fiction, of course) to be. But as an obvious tie-in, it made for a very nice little addition to their magazine. 

"My agent further perpetuated that it would be appropriate to use the same look for other venues and, so, it became a sort of a signature outfit, though even then I only wore it to events of a public nature. Most of my detective and police work is conducted in standard business suit and tie. Nevertheless, the photographs used in the newspapers were usually from that same photo shoot instead of from actual crime scenes.

"Although that agent and I have parted ways and I’m now represented by someone else (with a much happier working relationship, I might add), I do still have the costume. It was well-received for my sendoff from London, but I’m not certain how much good it did for my reputation when it came to my debut in Japan…  Unfortunately, I think it came off as more arrogant and otaku than intended. 

"Regardless, I only wear it when requested by clients which, again, is typically only for public events and functions. Some seem to think that it’s a charming uniform. I don’t mind so much either way. I know that it isn’t accurate – it wasn’t ever specifically mentioned in Doyle’s writings, but rather in the illustrations starting with my favorite story, The Boscombe Valley Mystery, and caught on from there. Subsequently many stage plays, films, and parodies use this look to identify Holmes (despite its unofficial nature) and so on ever since.

"It’s not meant as disrespect of any kind, nor as an endorsement for an inaccurate portrayal. It’s an iconic symbol and publicity gimmick, meant for entertainment, and nothing more.

[text] Thank you for the gift, Kuroba-kun. That was very sweet of you, and was the perfect pick-me-up after such a long night. [text] Also, no, don’t ask how I got your phone number; I have my secrets, too.

kurobakaitokid:

*whips out his phone and his eyes widen slightly when he notices the sender’s name. Grinning, he composed a reply*

[text] You are most welcome, Hakuba-san. This thief aims to please. [text] -laughs- Can you be persuaded to share your secrets?

*sends*
……
*Saves previous messages and keeps phone*

[text] Perhaps, in time.  I suspect that we may end up needing to share several secrets as things progress.

[text] By the way, if you’re ready to talk about your career choice, let’s set up a date and time to discuss it in privacy. Perhaps over dinner?

[text] And by dinner I meant tea.

image

Midnight Tea || phantom-thief-kid

phantom-thief-kid:

image

“Glad you came.” He figured continuing with that line of conversation, about becoming a large beast on some nights, was probably unwise. Then Hakuba would start fretting and, admittedly, it did worry himself on some level or another. The blanking out and how the lines were blurring between man and lion…

“So, anything really interesting happen? Cases or anything?” He pulled out some milk and sugar.

image

“Always more cases, though nothing particularly of note lately, really…”  Hakuba shrugged uneasily, then glanced sideways, failing at presenting any sort of reasonable pokerface. “Oh, I guess there’s… a dinner happening at my father’s house tomorrow evening, if you’d like to come. Sort of a birthday thing, I guess.”

Between the detectives

camiechan:

image

“Hakuba senpai, I miss the old days when we used to spend more time together, but now its just…”

Camie stood behind the closed door to Hakuba’s office. She imitated a quivering and lonely sounding voice into the voice changer and was amazed how adorable she sounded as none other that Conan-kun.

“…You and kid huh…its such a shame…if you really cared about me you’d come after me-”

She intentionally cut off, the end of her sentence punctuated with a voice that sounded on the verge of tears, then  she hopped from a nearby  window and out near the back of the house. making sure not to be seen.

“Conan-kun?” Hakuba pushed back from his desk and got to his feet, crossing the room as quickly as he could to get to the door.  When he threw it open, however, there was no one there – certainly not his little kohai and potential apprentice. 

“Conan-kun! Wait!”  

The hallways were situated as such that someone would be easily visible either up or down each way, and he would have certainly heard the footsteps, so to the open window it was. He glanced out at first, then followed, carefully pulling himself over and down into the patch of clear soil behind the hedge.

“Conan-kun!”

Was he really upset about his… … … whatever it was that he had with Kaitou Kid? Surely, Conan couldn’t be jealous of the time spent, with the distance between them… Then again, he had been very preoccupied with work lately and hadn’t made time to stop by in Tokyo… Oh no. Poor Conan-kun! 

The detective took off at a run to get around the hedge. He would make it right!

koizumiakako:

image

She only nodded, strain evident on her face. A part of her had been wishing that maybe he would concede and allow her back into his arms but she scoffed at her own ridiculous idea. He would never and neither would she. Pride and determination would make sure of that.

As quickly as she could Akako turned on her heel, clumsier than usual, but managed to keep herself upright and striding away. There wasn’t any confidence ormalice in her step, just exhaustion and disappointment. “Try not to overwork yourself,” she called back hesitantly, not sure if she should say anything at all. But the deed was done. Now they could go back to normal…

image

Yes… back to normal.

The detective waited until she was gone, steeling himself against that compulsion to go after her, to stop her, to grasp her as he’d thought about countless times… and then he calmly gathered his things, checked the time on his pocket watch, and headed out for the day.

He had a friend/classmate to pick up for a trip to Tokyo. An afternoon to get away and distract himself from, well, himself. 

Happy birthday, indeed.

koizumiakako:

image

She didn’t even have the energy to counter that. After all, there wasn’t anything he said that wasn’t true. She wasn’t angry, or sad, or any other emotion that might be appropriate in her situation. She was just tired. The last thing she wanted to do was to keep fighting a losing battle but that’s all she had been doing since day one.

“Then I suppose I’ll just continue being alone. You’ve rejected my peace offering so all I have left to do is to keep trying in some vain hope that he’ll return my feelings one day… which he won’t. But I’ll keep doing it.”

Her shoulders slumped in a very dismissive way as she turned her attention to a wall to her right. Teaching herself how to not cry had been the most useful skill she had ever learned as a child and she was so grateful for it right then. But she had been alone for so long already, what was the rest of her life?

“You can return the gift if you like. The receipt is in the box. Then you can buy something you actually want. Maybe some new cologne and then you can spend the rest of it on a night out. Maybe find a new companion.” She took a deep breath before turning back to him and smiling her usual, distant smile. “I’ll keep away as best I can. No promises though, Tantei-san.”

"I will wish you the best of luck in your pursuits, Koizumi-san.” Hakuba answered, tone neutral, placid. Just the same way it was day in and day out. Likewise distant, likewise hurting, and always hidden. He watched her for a moment, lips drawn in a straight line, neither smiling nor frowning.

His mouth curved into a faint, but forced smile that never reached his eyes. He, too, was tired. “I appreciate your attention to detail; remembering my birthday, making a point of buying a gift of my preference, delivering it to me in person. Thank you.”

The detective offered her a bow, formal and respectful, then straightened up to show that, really, there was no victory in this. He got no joy from their argument. Nothing but pain in their concessions and admissions. It hurt. Everything hurt and there was no end to it. 

“I’m certain that I’ll see you around. I hope you have a pleasant rest of your day.”