One Wonderful Dream

I fell asleep in my bed for once, and similarly, had one mercifully blissful dream among the usual rabble of terror. It was wild and pure, and not something that I’m willing to divulge even to you, dear journal. The fading memories of that feeling are something that I’d like to hold on to, for me alone, selfishly. 

Will it make a difference as I go about my day? I don’t know… but for the briefest of moments I felt as if… …as if I understood what it meant to be… 

Well… it’s difficult to put into words. I only hope that I will remember it, and not taint it like so many other memories. I think I need it. 

For the Love of a Painting || kaitouxjeanne

kaitouxjeanne:

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Gratification. Jeanne wouldn’t lie— that short moment where the detective was not all smooth charm and impeccable manners was extremely satisfying. Score one for the phantom thief!

Observing him regain composure, she regarded Hakuba thoughtfully with her lashes lowered so her attention wouldn’t be obvious. Well, she definitely had his attention. And as sharp as the detective was, he probably had some professional interest, too. Fine, it was part of the plan. Of course, she could have not played quite so hard but whether it was the phantom thief instinct to wind things up as much as possible with a fun opponent or some other interest..  Well, you could have your own guess.

As she felt the slight pressure at her back, the blonde did not tense.

There was no room for shyness in this game.

Speaking of games, the young man seemed to want to play. It seemed Jeanne wasn’t the only one with a competitive side. Interestingly enough, the detective even thought he could win.. How cute.

Lashes still lowered, she reached across the almost indecently short distance between them to rest lightly his chest. Her hands traveled slowly upward to his collar, to fix it. Amidst her observations, she saw a slight ruffle or imperfection.. though it might have been her fault. 

Only after this act did Jeanne finally raise her eyes to his and answer him.The gracious smile had adopted a playful tilt. 

“I don’t know about angels, but I came by myself tonight. Perhaps I will be more lucky leaving this event.”

Eyebrows tilting up slightly, the blonde’s expression turned to one of mock sadness. Eyes still teasing, she smiled sadly and said, “However, it appears I’m with a certain young Sherlock now. And since you’re still Sherlock despite not using his closet.. I suppose you won’t make my luck.“

He was probably at least a little puzzled. Though demure, her flirtations were a tad stronger than the usual brand. Only using small, light touches, she made her interest clear but she was by no means attaching herself to his arm. Vagueness was a key part of the game. A general intention could be made out but just how intent she was and in what direction was still in fog. Sure, she was suspicious but she had barely mentioned the painting. She was sure he thought her a mystery, or at least a challenge.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So coy. So smooth. Hakuba watched her, working through those words while his smile quirked just ever so slightly in one corner, giving him a lop-sided smirk that, according to many, was terribly charming. 

"I came alone myself,” he said, then turned his head, looking out to the crowd and away from the woman. “Such a shame, isn’t it? Still, there are many things that can be done when you’ve no one else to hold you back." 

The detective let out a sigh, meant to be theatric, and then gestured toward the the rows of tables set up along the side for guests to sit and eat their scavenged horderves.

"All the same, I would love to have your company as I secure the premise and take advantage of the rather extensive spread that my client has put on…" 

Moonlight Visitor

themoonlightthief:

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“Oh?”

The thief arched a brow, his attention caught and, even though he knew it would definitely be in his own best interests to not rise to the bait, he couldn’t help but allow himself to return the tease.

“So,” he began, head cocking to the side and grin widening just the slightest hint. “You’re saying if I had asked first, you would have…given it to me yourself?“

The detective, feeling some degree of success at having successfully pushed the conversation, canted his head to the other side, mirroring Kid with a determined smirk.

"Oh, that might be what I’m saying… really, there’s only one way to know. Why don’t you try it, Kaitou-san?” Hakuba glanced around at the empty room around them, shrugging his shoulders casually. “This seems like a good time and a fine location. Go ahead. Ask me." 

harajukuharuspex:

+ 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.

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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.  

themoonlightthief:

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The magician heaved a mental sigh of relief when Hakuba didn’t say anything about his choice in movie and flashed a small grin in return as he took the case, popped it open and showed the disk into the DVD-player in front of him.

“Of course I did. What, you don’t trust me?” It’s said in a mostly teasing tone, but there’s a hint of seriousness there that he couldn’t quite get rid of. As…surprisingly nice the little visit had been so far, Kaito still couldn’t help but feel slightly antsy – almost waiting for the usual tense atmosphere and arguments about him being KID or not and the accusations that came with them. And then there was the simple fact that they were at his house…

He shook his head.

Hakuba hadn’t done anything so far and they were having a, if not good, then at least decent time together and he had no desire to ruin that.

“Don’t worry,” Kaito said, getting to his feet. “I’m pretty sure your rootbeer and the pizzas are gonna be here any second.“

The detective gave a sigh of relief himself, though this was audible and somewhat exaggerated. "I hope so. As much as I’d love to trust you as far as I can throw you – which might be a surprising distance considering how squirrely you are – I’m rather anxious to try it." 

Truthfully, Hakuba did want to bring up the Kid business. It seemed ridiculous that they were forced into such an awkward standing with each other.  Hakuba had figured out the secret and still hadn’t turned Kaito in, so why was it such a big deal? Why the constant denial and forced, arbitrary degree of separation? 

Maybe it was not knowing the answer to that question that bothered him most of all. 

Getting comfortable, Hakuba pulled the silver pocket watch out and looked at the time, comparing it to the watch on his wrist, then flipped it closed with a little snap.

"When is your mother expected back? Er, if I can ask…”

Six more have entered the bakery.

shsl-queenofcakes:

Lifting her head from under the counter, where she’d been attempting to dislodge a jammed drawer, Karin was hardly surprised to see her shop filling up. After all, she was among the best in the country; it was to be expected that her bakery would be popular. Nevertheless, she appreciated the business and the warm chatter that generally accompanied it.

“Hello! Welcome to Turnover A New Leaf. If you order our lemon cake, I’ll regard you as one of Madeira friends!”

Oh god the puns. When did she even start with these?

The young foreign detective came to a halt as he entered the shop, turnign attention to the woman at the counter. Madeira? he wondered, but decided not to ask and instead, somewhat sheepishly, resumed his approach.

“Ah, hello there… I’m not looking for lemon cake today, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me with something, miss…" 

DATE-O START! || akaikujixyaku

akaikujixyaku:

“Heheh, I was just pushing my suspicion for the sake of not discounting the improbable, the ‘plane but not airport’ was the only part that didn’t click in with me initially." She still hadn’t tied it up completely, but was too busy basking in the afterglow of impressing him. Heh.

"I’m sort of a trivia addict, y’know? Whenever I get curious about something- when it came about, who it started with, I look it up- and I’ve got a good enough memory that most of it sticks. Especially things like tea, that I’m so endeared to— did you know they’d been drinking it in China for an entire millennium before it made it to Japan? The original uses were medicinal."  There’s my precious little encyclopedia. His jesting question made her huff a laugh, silently musing over the accuracy of the inquiry. 

"But of course I’m not a detective, that’d be silly. Detectives don’t overcomplicate, they analyze the facts and evidence presented them and assess it without the bias of overprocess, right? No, I’m a romanticist beyond all means, looking above and beyond is my nature, and that’s why I’m bound to the bending of words and storycraft." Well that was true enough.

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"Oh goodness," Ah he said it he said thing, "I’m just lucky, with enough cleverness and sense to make sure that luck doesn’t get me (too) beat up. I’m sure you’d be the better of the two of us if we’d actually switched our paths.”

Tea. She had talked about tea. As if tea was something grand and magnificent. Which it was. But she agreed? Hakuba, so very pleased at this, was momentarily distracted from the topic at hand. Fortunately, he managed to keep his attention on driving and the road ahead, taking them northbound. 

What was he supposed to say? Ah, right, detectives. 

“Well, that’s what detectives are supposed to do, but no person is completely infallible.” Himself included. Hakuba laughed. “That’s certainly what Sherlock would have advised, yes. All right, so let’s put this into a clearer context. The location that I’m taking us first is relatively close, in Tokyo. This is a first date, so it probably isn’t too crazy…”  At least, as far as he knows it isn’t. “And contains all of the things I’ve mentioned.”

He merged into another lane, revving the engine further as they picked up speed. “That said, can you make a list of places that we’re not going to?”

Hakuba hoped that his light, friendly tone would carry over the message that he was not trying to be condescending in any way. This was actually rather interesting for him, and definitely a much more pleasant conversation than he was used to having as of late. 

DATE-O START! || akaikujixyaku

akaikujixyaku:

The Detective? Well, it wasn’t too much of a stretch, but she doubted she’d be up to par with his example. Hh-hhm, what a cute game though, she very much liked the idea of it. Meitantei Himura, oooh that sounded cool. “I’ll do my best not to let you down, Hakuba-Jānarisuto." Oh my, her title sounded even nicer with his name. (And what a cute face he had made oh dearest me). As he mentioned clues, her eyes followed his hands, then briefly cased the interior of his vehicle, profiling in silence.

"Bones, but not grave; Flora, but not floral…" She repeated his hints to herself quietly, rolling the words around on her tongue, as they peeled away from her home and started their way. Bones. Bone, bone… china? Flora, not floral, perhaps the petals or pistils, or something flower-like? Flora… The plane but not airport was gone from her, but tying into her idea was the ancient, but not outdated. Especially in both of his influential cultures, as well as her own.

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"When the buddhist monk Eichu returned from China, in the early ninth century, he personally prepared and served sencha, unground Japanese green tea, to Emperor Saga who was on an excursion in Karasaki, well, what is now the Shiga prefecture— the precise year was 815.

I’d say that’s fairly ancient, though I’m curious how the plane ties in, if my suspicion is correct?" 

Hakuba-Jānarisuto. He liked that. 

Hakuba stole a sideways glance at the girl before chuckling, amused and impressed, as he turned back to watch the road.  "No, no… the place we’re going is in Tokyo. I don’t want to keep you out too late, after all…" 

But that wasn’t very helpful, was it? He laughed again.

"I can’t believe… You didn’t even have to pull out your phone to research, yet you came up with an answer that fit, with precise year…” Hakuba shook his head. “No, clearly I’ve made this far too easy because you’re over complicating it. Are you sure that you’re not secretly a detective and that journalism is just your cover?” He pursed his lips curiously at the thought in an exaggerated expression. 

“…clearly, I’m going to have to watch my step with you, Meitantei Himura. You may be far too clever for your own good.”

askkudoushinichi:

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Oh, how he would love to chatter on and on about his favorite story of the series but something was nagging in the back of his mind. It still slightly unnerved him that Hakuba knew so much about him and that made him all the more suspicious about forgetting something that he talked about a lot in interviews.

Reporters were always asking things like that. What’s your favorite color? Do you like cats or dogs better? What’s your favorite book? If they asked that last question, eventually they would get bored and try to end the talk as quickly as possible and he supposed that was about half the reason he loved that question.

“Ah, that would be the story of Mr. John Douglas of Sussex. The one where Holmes and Watson receive a coded message from one of Moriarty’s droogs and discover that he’s to be killed. But when they talk to Scotland Yard they find out that the deed has already been done and then they go to investigate and find that Mr. Douglas actually hasn’t been killed at all.

"It’s The Valley of Fear, of course,” he explained, watching him closely out of the corner of his eye. He already knew that Hakuba was a Holmes fan himself from their previous encounters but he wondered if he would realize the lie. Since he had done so much research and all.

Hakuba might have choked had he not had the presence of mind to delay his reactions to allow for thinking time. But he did swallow – hard – and felt a twitching compulsion that screamed ‘IT’S A TRAP!’  Because, effectually, that’s what it was. 

Really, he should have known that Kudou-san would pull something like this. After all, his senpai was brilliant, wasn’t he? While Hakuba had been trying to break the ice and get a conversation going, the other detective had seen an opportunity to test him. This put Hakuba in a very awkward position because, quite handily, he’d been caught in a lie with another. There was no way that Kudou would not have been aware of this. 

It was an agonizing decision, that. Either continue to feign ignorance and look like an idiot who clearly didn’t know anything about Kudou-senpai… or call Kudou-senpai out on the false information and admit that he had been trying to be coy and clever to get him to talk. Both options were rife with embarrassment. He should have known. 

“Ah, yes… I’m know that story…”  Hakuba finally said, voice quiet as he considered his words carefully.

Internally, this might have looked much like a task master cracking the whip at thousands of hamsters running uselessly in spinning wheels. A fretter by nature to begin with, Hakuba was doing some serious mental overtime. 

“…Ah, I… remember now, though… Wasn’t it The Sign of Four? Unless you’ve changed your favorite, of course… Ah, I’m quite partial to The Boscombe Valley Mystery story from the original Adventures Of book myself…”

Even admitting that much had been painful. Particularly as he was suddenly confronted with the fact that his favorite Sherlock story was one of the short stories contained in a collection from the original case files, and not one of the ‘proper’ novels… What did that mean? Was that going to be a problem? 

God what was he doing talking to Kudou in the first place? They’d both been spoken of in the newspapers as the Sherlock Holmes of the new century, which made them at odds to begin with. Colleagues, perhaps, but… clearly Kudou was, well, Hakuba’s senpai. How embarrassing.  Perhaps it would have been better to avoid ever meeting him and instead continue the long trail of letter after ignored letter.