Admittedly, Sazerac was expecting to be vehemently brushed off. “Living” with one, he observed that detectives were tigers—predators stalking their prefectural territories living off what they could from the criminal prey unfortunate to be snagged by fang and claw; scouting the perimeter whenever another was near or encroaching their set boundaries and went to retaliate if hostile enough or left them alone if otherwise; rare occurrences of shared “kills” should things turn desperate… The agent met with the young lady only once or thrice, but the characteristics were still there barring one or two very small points.
Still, replying with the address was something a bit odd. A rushed prompt, a clock reaching twelve against its gears spinning it 0.002 seconds so, urging him upon their mechanical steed in haste to the destination. It was late nonetheless, and there was no telling if he’d be summoned for another assignment, or meeting with his handler for one of his “special” tasks.
Thinking upon the matter as he turned onto a street, what was there really to discuss? He’d been no closer to figuring out whatever those white-coated -ists did to him since his initial realization of it some weeks ago. Admittedly, the weariness of being (somewhat) permanently activated was filling his bones, replacing marrow too well to make him wonder if Their ultimate plan was to eradicate the original. Make him the supposed doppelgänger They’d coerced out from the dark and primal thoughts of a caged child.
Half an hour later he parked his bike aways from his destination out of the usual crawling paranoia skittering in his blood. Made his way up to the appropriate floor in silence, clearing the cobwebs of concern with a pull of their cap’s rim forward. A knock upon the door once he was before it, finally, not wanting to keep his hostess waiting for his arrival.
Oh no. The moment of fear felt like an eternity. Had she been tracked down? (Well, it wouldn’t have taken much – home was the most obvious place to go anyways, and the culprit would know she had nowhere else—)
Kyouko didn’t move, even when she saw her phone out of the corner of eye. That’s right – she invited two people over. Two. Both with seemingly important and perhaps private issues – why did she do that? And she was aware these two didn’t entirely get along— wow Kyouko, you screwed up.
It wouldn’t be good to keep either of them waiting, but it also wouldn’t be good to throw them into a panic. But there was no time, so the detective quickly fastened the somewhat sloppy bandages around her torso with a safety pin (nearly pricking herself – oh the irony), pulled her shirt down and carefully made her way out of the bathroom; thinking of some complicated excuse all the while.
A glance at her computer and she knew who the visitor was (she had never been so thankful for the hidden cameras Alter Ego helped her set up). A subconscious tug at her gloves and a deep breath before unlocking the door as nonchalantly as she could. She opened the door with the chain lock still on, so she could hide everything but her head behind the door.
“Ah…” A pause; she hid a wince of pain by looking the Osakan over. “Janus-san. Hello, welcome… um, my apologies, I’m going to have to ask you… to mind the mess, and the general state of things, and to… not panic, when I open the door.” She looked away in an attempt to seem sheepish, and took a few breaths to keep herself standing. “There’s an explanation for it – not at all what it seems.”
Kyouko was feeling dizzy and it felt like she was speaking much too quickly to seem truthful at all. (Maybe a part of her hoped he caught the lie and offered some kind of protection, whether intentionally or not, since the culprit seemingly haven’t targeted anyone besides her—)
Eager as Hakuba was to discuss the matter with Kirigiri-san, it took him several moments longer than he wished to get everything assembled and into his rental car. It wasn’t nearly as convenient as having his own, ready and waiting to take him wherever he needed to go. And then Baaya, dear thing as she was, offered to take him and he had to spend a great deal of effort to dissuade her while not making her feel useless.
“Official business, Baaya… please, don’t fret,” ended up being the reasoning that released him from her protective clutches. Honestly, ever since the accident, she was always quick to offer to drive, which was frustrating for so many reasons…
Regardless, he arrived only a couple of minutes after the Osakan had. Unlike the quasi detective/assassin, Hakuba parked right out front, and hopped from the car with an expression of disgust. Commuter car. Pitiful! The current bane of his existence! He reached in for his briefcase, nearly hit his head on the doorframe, and gave the car a very stern glare before heading for his colleague’s home. But only after slamming the car door shut. Hmf!
He’d knock upon arrival, and attempt to clear the frustration from his expression before anyone answered.