Tag Archives: long post

by

Blond Humbug

December 24th, Last Year

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“Oh, hullo Jones! Happy Christmas!”

“Happy… merry… Christmas to you, too, Saguru. Look, I’m sorry to interrupt your holiday, but–”

Hakuba laughed, stretching out his free arm before glancing at his wrist watch. “You’re not really interrupting anything. There’s still seventy-four minutes, fifteen seconds until we’re to leave for my grandmum’s, and I’m already packed.”

“That’s good to hear, but–”

“Sincerely, Jones, all that I’m doing is lying underneath the piano, waiting for everyone else.”

There was an awkward pause. “Under the piano?”

“Yes. Of course.” Hakuba closed his eyes, amused and content as if his actions were the most normal thing in all the world. “It’s a Steinway D-274, you know. Absolutely gorgeous instrument. Such wonderful sound.”

Another pause, this one while Jones scratched his head. “What… are you talking about?”

“The piano. My mum’s piano.”

“…right, anyway, the reason I’m calling is because I got some reports and some very interesting photos of you from last week that I wanted to discuss.”

The hesitation, this time, was on Hakuba’s end. “Photographs?" 

"Yes. Of you. With someone. In an alleyway.”

“Uh…" 

"Care to tell me what that was all about, favorite client of mine?”

“It’s… are you certain it was me?”

Jones laughed. “How many six foot tall half-brit blond teenagers do you know in Japan?”

“I can explain.”

“You’d better.”

“It’s not what it looks like!”

“Really? Because it looked like you were making out with–”

“N-no! It.. uh, it… it was for a case!”

“Forgive me if I’m a little skeptical. I’m well aware that you’re quite the lady’s man at parties, but a dimly lit alleyway in the city?”

Hakuba sighed, grimacing, and ran a hand through his hair. “It was my classmate… look, it happened like this…" 

One Week Earlier…

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There was snow on the ground, but it wasn’t quite the thick blanket that the detective had come to expect during the time of year. The garden at the estate in London was probably under half a foot of snow at least, not a light dusting like in Ekoda. Ah well, at least the winter chill permitted Hakuba to wear his burberry scarf and milford coat, both of which he loved. 

He also loved the fact that he was going home for the holiday the following afternoon, four days early, escaping the tyranny of the godless Japanese school system. Soon, he’d be home with his mother, able to enjoy Christmas shopping at Covent Garden, eating fish and chips under the very traditional Christmas decorations, trees all around and… god, he couldn’t wait! 

But he had to wait, because there were errands still to run. For school. 

Hakuba glanced over to his walking companion, one Kuroba Kaito, classmate and the prime suspect for the case he’d been working on for the past fifteen months. Despite countless confrontations, though, Kaito hadn’t budged on the fact that he was Kaitou KID. Needless to say, even having backed off after the whole Nightmare disaster, the two still didn’t get along very well.

Though, it wasn’t as if Hakuba made much effort to lessen the tension…

"Just look at these storefronts,” he muttered, fumbling for the mittens in his coat pockets. “Proclaiming Christmas despite not even really knowing what it’s about, turning it from a familial holiday to one of romance? Ridiculous. And these decorations…” He shook his head. “It’s almost as if the Japanese don’t know what Santa Claus even really looks like!”

He was chattering because he was cold and because Kaito was quiet. Forced by their class rep to pick up the supplies for the Christmas party – “Which I won’t even be here for!” – found the pair in the downtown shopping district. Snow fell in quiet, sporadic showers, though the brit reasoned it was more of a ghostly misting than a true snowfall. Typical. 

“Tell me, Kuroba-kun, do you celebrate Christmas? And I mean in the traditional sense, not in the made up ‘lover’s holiday’ sort of way." 

Yes, Hakuba Saguru was in rare form that night. Although his criticism was normal, the blatant distaste for the Eastern half of his heritage was not something that he so often discussed openly, much less actually felt. Alas, soapboxing was a dangerous sport… 

by

Bloody Moriarty

thelotusflowerfiles:

The only place Shinichi could think was Periot and that embarrassed him. Here he was supposed to know Beika, did know Beika, and the only place he could think of was a tiny cafe some odd blocks away from his home. He shook his head and unscrewed the cap off a water bottle to take a long gulp of water. His work out had just ended and he was just waiting, trying to kill some time between the actives cases he was working on and the series of colds that Meguire-keibu had given him.

‘Something to keep you from hunting the streets.’  He grimaced. He did not hunt Beika’s streets NOR prowl as Shiratori-keibu put it. It wasn’t his fault that he stummbled, literally sometimes, across murders or in the scary sense fell right into his lap. That was a interesting night to say the least.

Shinichi sighed and pulled the thin shirt over his head to mop the sweet off his face. He still hadn’t replied to Hakuba mostly because he was still debating on taking the fellow detective to Periot or scrambling in the last minute to find a suitable replacement. A cafe in Japan? After living in Europe? Fat chance he was going to be able to find something that good.

SO Periot it was. At least it was a comfortable spot for him.

Shinichi sat in front his laptop again after his shower and reread the email. The message brought up more questions than answers for him. Particularly why his meeting spots would no long exist. He had read, after some digging and a bit of illegal hacking, and heard the rumors about his running with a criminal named Spider. It didn’t go well for either of them. The coroner’s report was pretty clean and straight forward in their findings.

He leaned back in the chair, the tips of his fingers pressed together as his mind raced with the possibilities as to why it had happened. What trigger that reaction from his fellow detective. Not that he didn’t think it wasn’t necessary but ….

He shook his head. Hakuba was his colleague and was asking for his help. What ever happened in his past need to stay there untouched till the other brought it to the surface. Sitting up in his seat again he got to work on his short simple reply.

Hakuba,

I know of a cafe that is pretty close to my home and is something of a neutral spot for me. Periot cafe. This weekend sounds perfect if a case doesn’t crop up during that time. I’ll be looking forward to our up coming meeting.

Kudo.

He reread the message, was satisfied with it and hit send then looked at the time: One AM. He let his head fall and hit the table.

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Hakuba waited until the morning of his departure before responding, seated in the uncomfortable wooden chair on the covered patio of the Wickham-Hakuba estate.

His tea cooled in the warm morning air, spoon set aside while he tapped out his reply on his phone. Marion watched him from across the table, sun hat shading her face in a solid line while the rest of the setting was dappled with sunlight from the overhanging latticework and ivy. 

Kudou-san,

Excellent. I will give you a call on Saturday morning to confirm plans. Shall we tentatively plan for 15:00:00?

The game had changed. Last names only from Shinichi meant that Hakuba would switch to last and honorific, as opposed to the full names of their previous emails. Did this mean that Kudou thought of him as an equal already, or at least a colleague? Incredible, were that the case…

“Are you sure that you’re able to travel? There’s still time to cancel your flight.” Marion’s voice broke the train of thought, careful to keep her lips in a thin line, not wishing to give away her feelings on the matter, though Hakuba already knew quite well how it was. They played the game of pokerface often, but knew each other far too well to be fooled. 

He didn’t even bother to look up at her, reaching for the delicately rose-covered cup to take a sip. Still too hot. He set it down again. “I expect I’ll be fine, Mum.”

“Yes, of course you’d say that, but your back…”

Hakuba gave a patient sigh and ignored her in favor of rewriting the line he’d just written, easing into a statement that would be a little less formal. 

Let’s tentatively plan for 3 o’clock PM.

Better. It was a little more friendly while still accommodating. But what else to include? How to end it?

“Do you think Miss Twiggy will take to Ekoda well?”

Hakuba finally looked up at that, blinking. “Oh, I think Twig will do splendidly. She’s a sturdy thing.”

So sturdy, in fact, that he wasn’t entirely certain where she was. He glanced over the vast grounds of the estate, squinting to see if he could spot her. Probably herding the ducks again. Like all good corgis, she liked to keep busy. He could relate.

She smiled. “You could always leave her here.”

“No, Mum. Twig stays with me.” He set his phone down to take another sip of tea, which had finally cooled enough to let the flavor of honey through the brew. “We’ll be fine.”

They both sighed, both took a sip of tea, then looked at each other again– she pleading, he irritated. 

“Oh, I wish Baaya were going with you. Just promise me that you’ll stay away from the station?" 

Hakuba rolled his eyes at that. "I’m retired, Mum. I’ve no reason to go to the station except to meet Dad for… whatever I would need to meet him for. I’ll just be taking a holiday.”

It seemed to ease her worries, but only just. “If you say so, but you know how detectives are…” She stopped herself when her son’s expression went cold. “Retired or not, you’re still just as thirsty as a hound, you know! I know you, Saguru James. The moment a case comes up that piques your interest, you’ll be off running regardless of your capacity!”

If it weren’t for the medications, the comment might have pushed Hakuba in all of the wrong direction. As it was, he took another sip of tea, then calmly set it down, ignoring the tremor in his hands. “I’ll stay away from the station, and I’ll come back in one piece.”

Marion let herself relax at that, satisfied. “Good. See that you do, my dear. I’m going to fret from the moment we see you off at the airport until you’re back again.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Hakuba picked up his phone again to finish the email, hitting send without a second thought. It wouldn’t do to linger, since he was well aware that he was inviting trouble and ignoring his mother’s wishes, right there at the table.

Thank you for your quick response. 

I look forward to seeing you and discussing the aforementioned topic. I’d love to hear of some of your cases, as well.

Sincerely,
– Hakuba S. J.

by

Hakuba, Hakuba tell us about Kaito. What do you think about his magic? What do you think about his thievery and his dangerous lifestyle? And his pranks in class? And how many times he’s almost gotten killed? Tell us how you find him utterly precious <3

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“Kuroba Kaito… is, for the most part, an arrogant arse who enjoys laughing at the expense of others. He’s disruptive in class, inappropriate with the ladies, disrespectful to authority and to his classmates, and insanely stubborn. Despite the evidence that I’ve supplied, he has continued his vehement denial, both in reference to his thinly veiled alter ego and to my trustworthiness.

"The thievery, being a crime, is an unfortunate blemish on his otherwise spotless record. As frustrating and annoying as he is, the pranks that he plays are not something that could be written up except through the school administration, which is hardly something to worry about. I do hope, in fact, that his being a minor and, with the record he has for being a class clown, will help him attain a lighter sentence overall if he is ever arrested for his moonlighting.

"It seems that he realizes, at least in part, just how dangerous the work is, and how serious his crimes are. He’s careful not to be caught, to avoid leaving any traces, and to distance himself from others. In fact, even those who might be his allies are held at arm’s length, sacrificing whatever emotional refuge he might have for this… goal of his, whatever that might be. Clearly, whatever he is seeking is important enough to risk his life and well-being, which he does every single day, not just on his heists. 

"The heists themselves are terrifying. I say this as both a spectator and a detective involved in attempting his capture. Although he has tried to put countermeasures into place to reduce risk of injury to all participants, people can and do get hurt. As I’ve pulled back from the chasing, my focus has shifted to scouting the perimeter, watching for would-be assassins. Every heist brings out suspicious characters, some armed, some not, and it’s difficult to tell in the mass of shouting fans who the professionals are.

"Someone such as Spider, for instance, would know precisely when and where to strike. Others, like Delon, only needed a badge to gain clearance, which allowed him to open fire on Kaitou Kid, despite Japan’s strict gun control laws. Kaito plans for many things, but he can’t control everyone. There are far too many variables in play for him to guarantee the safety of anyone. And with Conan-kun and his little friends deeply entrenched in proving themselves with his arrest… God, I’m just grateful that he’s as good as he is. So far, he’s managed. I can only pray that his luck continues to hold out.

"As for the matter of his being ‘precious’… Well, of course, no one can deny that the young man is certainly quite attractive, and his passion for what he does pushes those qualities even further. His dedication is, in a word, enchanting. Spend one afternoon observing him and anyone would be hard pressed to not to be taken by him.

"The smile, the laughter; it’s infectious. And although the pranks he pulls are unnecessary and, honestly, selfish and inconsiderate, the technical skill he employs to pull them off is impressive. That skill he would not have attained without countless hours of focused practice which, I believe, is driven by the love and admiration that he has for his father. It’s difficult to stay mad at someone for demonstrating that, even if it involves turning one’s hair ghastly shades of fluorescent pink.

“He exemplifies the order, ‘Keep Calm and Carry On.’ He does his best not to let it show how worn he is by what he does. He’s proud and stubborn, but continues to radiate light despite all of the darkness in this wretched world. I could go on and on about his keen senses, his intelligence, his generosity, and the pointed naivety, but I think it’s suffice to say that I admire him. He may be the one case that proved not to be as simple or open and shut as I previously thought, but I do hope that he continues to surprise me.

"I need him to stay alive and free for that. Life wouldn’t be the same without him. That’s why I’m to protect him, even if he will never believe that to be the case.”