Tag Archives: osakansax

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Headaches and Alcohol || osakansax

osakansax:

“Yes. To both. Not to worry. At most, police won’t start looking until the morning.”

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He’d forgive the sluggish state of his half-british assistant (was that the proper word for someone who was helping you make sure the files on the crimes you committed were somewhat erroneous instead of pristinely so?) though, admittedly, his gaze wandered elsewhere in some odd paranoia that he was being watched throughout this assignment—a common feeling, a constant reminder of the presence his so-called benefactors had, but harrying nonetheless. "Let’s get a move-on… after a check-up, I suppose drink may better dull the throb in your head compared to a re-assurance from a nurse…”

“Oh God, yes," Hakuba said with a sigh of relief. "I could really use a stiff drink. Honestly, I’m probably fine… just a bit of a…” the detective swallowed as the world around him wobbled some, but it cleared when he forced an even breath. 

“Hospital. Drink. Forget all about the fact that you’ve just… well, committed a very serious crime nearby. Perfect. Are you buying, at least?" 

….fortunately for all involved, the foreign detective was much quieter on the walk to the hospital. The pain kept him somewhat sedated, with all of his concentration focused on keeping his feet moving and ignoring the nausea of his stomach turning. These were relieved shortly after their arrival, however; head wounds and others that were actively bleeding had the favor of skipping ahead in the queue, And although it was strongly recommended that Hakuba stay in the hospital for observation, he insisted that he would be fine under Hattori Heiji’s care – after all, they were "on a case,” and they both had been trained in watching this sort of thing. 

Reluctantly, the hospital staff had no choice but to let them leave only an hour and a half later. They couldn’t force him to stay in a bed, and they’d already heard just how stubborn the pair of them were individually, and didn’t want to put up with them as a team. 

With head bandaged and painkillers administered, Hakuba left the hospital walking with a much clearer head. He glanced toward Janus, careful not to move his head too quickly, and smirked.

“How far away from the hospital do we need to be before I can remove these, do you think?” he asked, gesturing to the white bandages. 

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Information Soaked in Blood

detectivephiliac:

osakansax:

–

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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. 

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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. 

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[FINE, SUNDOWN JANUS]

Mun’s Theories:

who cooks normally?: They eat out/get take out almost exclusively.

how often do they fight?: They are professional not-talkers about the problems. Fights are probably every six months or so and are awful.

what do they do when they’re away from each other?: Worry. Work. 

nicknames for each other?: ’Schatz’ for Hakuba, ‘Baron’ for Janus

who is more likely to pay for dinner?: They take turns.

who steals the covers at night?: JANUS. Mostly because he usually goes to bed first. 

what would they get each other for gifts?: Usually nothing. Weapons, maybe.  

who remembers things?: Hakuba. He offers gentle reminders from time to time. 

who cusses more?: Janus. Easily.  

what would they do if the other one was hurt?: Get out the sutures and alcohol. 

who kissed who first?: …Hakuba, while drinking. 

who made the first move?: …Hakuba, when he was drunk. (I didn’t even have to change this – again.)

who started the relationship?:  Hakuba, because he couldn’t stand the jealousy of not knowing if Janus was going to get drunk and make mistakes with OTHER PEOPLE. 

Hakuba’s Thoughts: 

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“It makes sense in a horrible sort of way… I wonder what tragedy will befall us next?" 

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Ships Hakuba/Janus

Mun’s Theories:

who cooks normally?: Neither. Hakuba would try for a while, but mostly I think they would eat separately or, in Hakuba’s case, not at all.

how often do they fight?: Often, I think, and explosively. Lots of yelling and threats. And fists, perhaps. MAYBE EVEN KNIVES. 

what do they do when they’re away from each other?: Feel relieved. 

nicknames for each other?: ’Guru’ for Hakuba, ‘Baron’ for Janus.

who is more likely to pay for dinner?: They pay for themselves except for when they’re feeling extremely passive aggressive. 

who steals the covers at night?: Hakuba, but he’s a very light sleeper so he fixes it whenever he wakes up.   

what would they get each other for gifts?: Consumables or nothing. 

who remembers things?: Hakuba, but then he doesn’t bring anything up.

who cusses more?: Janus. Probably because of Hakuba. 

what would they do if the other one was hurt?: Grumble at the other while they patch them up. Then be mad that they were being reckless — again. 

who kissed who first?: Hakuba kissed Janus. Because he was drunk. (I’m noticing a pattern here.)

who made the first move?: …Hakuba, when he was drunk.

who started the relationship?:  It just sort of happened and any sort of ‘let’s discuss this’ ended up in a fight so they just are and it’s all sorts of insecure and messed up. 

Hakuba’s Thoughts: 

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“This is a doomed relationship. He would kill me, and I would let him." 

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[Don’t chase the rabbit!!]

And now, a random memory from Hakuba’s past… 

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Once upon a time, when Hakuba was just a little four year-old Ickleba, he lived in Japan with both his mother and his father. They were negotiating moving back to London at the time, and decided to get some of the more tourist-y activities out of the way first. After all, they were certain that they would never return to Japan, and wanted to give their little Saguru a chance to experience all that he could of the culture that would undoubtedly shun him if they stayed.

So off they went to a festival. OBON FESTIVAL! 

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Hakuba Sr and Marion put little Saguru in the outfit and got him the traditional snacks and all of that good stuff, most of which he only vaguely remembers. This is because, as wonderful and exciting and colorful as everything was, the boy noticed a turtle in one of the ponds when they first arrived and… he kept wandering back to look for it, time and time again.

Slipping out of his parents’ hands was a skill that he had mastered by then, and made ample use when something caught his eye. You’d think that the Hakubas would have an easy time finding their OBVIOUSLY foreign son, but alas, he was too small and quick. Being pale and blonde did them no good when there were too many people in bulky, colorful attire, balloons, lanterns, and so on. 

They eventually did find him, though, standing in the middle of the pond barefoot, water up to his knees, searching in the dark for the turtle. Singing, of all things, for it to come and let him take it home. 

Fireworks were great and all, but had nothing on that turtle, which had long since hidden from the splashing, wild movements of the boy. Oops. 

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…it was much relieved when he was unceremoniously dragged out and home over his father’s shoulder, as you might imagine. 

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Kill me.

Leave a “Kill Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character killing yours.

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It had to be done. There was no other way.

Hakuba watched as the man checked the windows and cursed about the approach of the additional squad cars. They’d been trapped in the warehouse. Set up. Everything was in place to expose the truth, to tell the world what they really were. But what were they? Assassins? Sheep? The Organization saw them as pawns in a dangerous game of blood and greed and nothing more. But what would the Osakan’s family think? Hattori Heiji had been an upstanding individual. Someone who believed in justice, not cold-blooded murder.  Oh, how things had changed. For both of them.

The gloves took little time to slip over his hands.  He didn’t worry about traces of gunpowder – his sleeves would be covered by ash from the fire and the blood from dragging the once detective out of the burning building soon enough. Ignoring the loudspeaker threats from outside, Hakuba considered his plan. He already knew that they were surrounded. That there was no other way out beside the front entrance. It would be so simple, so easy.

The gun belonged to one of the dead men on the floor. One of the people that Janus had killed. It was already loaded, safety already off.  Blaring sirens would cover the sound of the subtle click and the discharge of the gun. He’d fire three shots into his partner’s back  – carefully aimed to hit his lungs and his heart. He knew that Kevlar jacket like the back of his hand; knew exactly where to aim to puncture right through. It had been worn over the years of use. He’d wait for Janus to stiffen and fall before putting the gun back in the dead owner’s hands, then crouch at his lover’s side slip the ring from his finger for safe-keeping, then drench his hands in his blood.

Then it would be the matter of carrying him from the building, pleading for help from the officers. Man down. Hattori Heiji, son of Hattori Heizo, had been killed by those men… he’d fought to defend the Superintendent General’s son. He’d died a hero, not like a dog in the gutter. Not shot in the back by someone who loved him.

Hakuba hadn’t been connected to those crimes. No one had known what he had done. What his part in all of the madness had been. They would believe him. The courts would trust in Hakuba’s testimony that the accusations were false. That Hattori had been framed. Had not, in fact, been part of a criminal organization. Had not slaughtered men and women by their request. Hakuba’s word would afford Hattori an honorable funeral.

His family would grieve over Heiji’s sacrifice. Everyone would mourn the loss of such great potential. They’d give him the respect that Janus had always deserved but never received.

No one would know what they had meant to each other. What they had been through together. It would remain secret, just as Janus had asked. Request finally fulfilled. 

All that Hakuba had to do was pull the trigger. 

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osakansax:

“—No. I think I’ve my… situation covered this time. At least, until the body might be found.”

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Sazerac tried really hard to not brush the halfer off him. Tried to put a stopper upon the urge to instinctively return him back to the floor, forcefully or otherwise. He’d offered help, after all—he’d keep the word mum of how uncomfortable he was right now, though his body spoke of the exact opposite. “That’s fine. Take your time.”

Stopped in his tracks cold and rooted himself where he stood, arms crossed. They were outside now, and the vapid night air did little to sift through thistled leaves—or anything really, in general. The bright side of this darkened sky was that at least the weather wasn’t humid. Surely a breeze would come in sooner or later.

Hakuba didn’t linger long with arms around the Osakan, carefully pulling himself back up to his feet. He took a moment to steady himself, staying close to Janus for both physical and physiological support. Managing short, measured breaths to calm himself, the detective calmed. He pressed the heel of his palm against his left eye.

"Sorry ‘bout all of that. I think I’m all right now. You said that he hospital is a bit of walk from here, yes?” His British accent was thicker, somehow, than it normally was when he spoke English. “Hold on… the body? Around here?”

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“…Wow.”

You are my;;

[x] Acquaintance 
[x] Friend (????)
[] Stranger
[] Boyfriend/Girlfriend
[] Love Interest
[] Best Friend
[x] Enemy (????)
[x] Nemesis (????!)
[x] Other – Client

I think you’re;;
[] Ugly
[] Ok
[] Pretty
[x] Beautiful Handsome
[] Gorgeous
[x] Sexy
[x] Hot

We should;;
[x] Fight
[] Fuck
[] Kiss
[] Make love 
[x] Text (please unblock me I swear I won’t drunk text you again)
[x] Watch films

I;;
[x] Like You
[] Hate You
[] Love You
[x] Think you’re … not nearly as black-hearted as you believe that you are.

I secretly;;
[] Hate You
[] Love You
[x] Like You
[] Dislike You
[x] Think You’re …severely misunderstood and just need someone to help you.

Should you reblog this?
[x] Yes
[] No