The idea of Hakubaa is actually not new… osakansax drew this months ago.
Back in January, I think…? Perhaps it was kismet.
Okay, going back to normal schedule/format, now. Silliness is OVER.
Tag Archives: osakansax
Well, it was a kendou retreat that’d been the pretense of his sudden departure. Truth of the matter was he’d hardly come into contact with his team, calling sick at the last moment. He was back now, and the tourney for the junior members of the team would be in three weeks’ time. Now was the time to review competition rules and techniques—senior and junior members alike would quickly take their stances, and within moments the room was filled with shouting and footstomping and all the possible variants of bamboo hitting bamboo, or armor. As was custom in such sessions; kendou was a naturally loud sort of martial art to begin with.
He’d mostly be at the sides, watching forms, correcting in strict silence. Not part of the norm, but that could be blamed on recovering sickness and the unfortunate fate that he’d stick with this walking cane for a good, long time. Dammit, Heiji should be in the reins, spearheading the practices, the show of strikes, the demonstrations—not him. The agent would curse his good luck when the time of a demonstration was called for, and he reluctantly stepped onto the mock-duel ring, bokken poised, stance tense. No pressure as the shouting whittled to murmurs, and students flocked to watch. No pressure at all.
Grace of the Shintou gods, spare him the shame of accidentally killing one of these pupils.
Ah, I’m just in time.
Perhaps against his better judgement, the foreign detective slipped into the room to watch the remainder of practice. The kendou retreat had foiled his previous plans to confront the Osakan, but that was no matter. He’d had enough to worry about in the meantime, and still so much research to be done. But after confirming time tables and proposed schedules, Hakuba had decided that taking an early morning train out and get the matter over and done with.
It seemed a good place, anyway. Relatively public to diffuse tension. Physical exertion to both wear Hattori out and get rid of excess aggression. Potentially putting him in a good mood to start if he did well. Oh, and an ice-breaking talking point. It would no doubt be an impressive match, and Hakuba was watching closely to learn all that he could. Surely, there would be plenty of genuine compliments to give by the time they had an opportunity to speak.
He took a place in the back in an attempt to be as discrete as possible, which was difficult considering that he looked even more out of place in Osaka than usual. But with polite nods and a serious, business-like composure, he wasn’t bothered much. It was time to observe and gather information.
“Of course.”
Did he have it? Heiji wasn’t sure, and would certainly not say that he was so. Besides, being sons of police superintendents, he could easily acquire that sort of information anyway… if that prideful lion stopped dangling its mane all over his head. “I… really shouldn’ be keepin’ ya any longer here. Ya probably have a case ta get ta, or somethin’.”
Certainly awkward, indeed. Especially when he would’ve loved to just shove a “get out” instead of those mess of words. Then again, being restricted by a knee brace and a bed did plenty to help that out.
“Something like that, yes. God speed your recovery, Hattori-san.”
Hakuba nodded his head to Heiji as a display of respect – or at least formality- and took another step back, before turning and walking to the door. Had he successfully interacted with his colleague without being physically assaulted? Was it possible that the two had had a moment of some kind?! The foreign detective wasn’t yet sure, but he intended to get back at Kaitou for the awkwardness either way.
“—That’s fine. No need fer that.”
It seemed that was all pride would permit of the Osakan detective. A few flashes of memories, yet the biggest of gaps was yet to be completely filled in. Intense frustration continued to pulse into his system, but his expression remained decidedly annoyed in a light-hearted fashion. “Sorry KID’s made ya come this far out. Ya needn’ worry ‘bout me no more.”
Though, that thought was decidedly curious. How did KID know it would be this annoying detective that held at least some of those missing fragments of his memory? It was just as perplexing as the idea that the flash of silver his memories allowed of him did not belong to the lighter in the foreign teen’s possession.
Still, he did not want to trouble anyone else more for his disturbingly poor memory. At this point, it might be best to visit the scene in where he was found—even if it had burned down to mere ashes upon pavement. “I can handle it from here.”
Hakuba breathed an audible sigh of relief, then blushed faintly at his very obvious outward faux pas. He cleared his throat with a small cough into a first, then busied himself, stowing the lighter away in its rightful place once more.
“Certainly, Hattori-san."
He took a step back, then hesitated again. Was that really all?
"Ah, if… you should desire any further assistance of any kind, I’m… assuming that you have my mobile number, correct?”
The foreign detective said this with a wince, but steeled himself afterward, inwardly blaming Kaitou for this entirely awkward interaction.
See? We can have a civil conversation… There was no need to worry, Kaito-kun.
The lighter was, perhaps oddly, not quite the trigger that should’ve been lit in his head; rather, its silver glean set but brief sparks in its stead. A clap of thunder, a flash of lightning—light, that illuminated a cross upon the chest. A mumble of muffled words, a white-hot flame—and a feeling that made him sick to his stomach. They were large fragments of a puzzle that was nearly finished, but there was still one piece missing, and the lighter hadn’t led the detective to find it despite.
Still, the rush had left him feeling as if the wind swiftly escaped his breath, and Heiji chose to catch it lest he suffocated himself. His forehead sought the warmth of his hand and thus placed the palm of it gently there whilst he contemplated this still-incomplete storyline.
“… I s’pose it’s done th’ job a bit,” replied the Osakan with some truthful reluctance. “Th…anks, I guess.”
Gaze averted—though perhaps if he stared at it a little more, that final part would make itself known? No; that would be too much of a wishful thought.
Hakuba hadn’t meant to cause Heiji any discomfort, and the display of such caused him to pause. Clearly, the lighter had triggered something, though the foreign detective wasn’t exactly sure what. Hesitating, Hakuba curled his fingers around the silver object, moving to put it back in its place within his suit jacket.
But then… the thank you. Reluctant or not, there was gratitude and recognition of such. Vulnerability. And that shift of the Osakan’s focus was inviting in a way that startled the halfer, who was only able to stare for a moment.
“Ah… you’re welcome,” Hakuba managed eventually, blinking in confusion at himself. Expression softening, he smiled – warily, but a smile nonetheless. “Would… it be helpful if I left this with you for the time being?”
Instant regret threatened to flood him at the very idea of it, but Hakuba ignored it. If Hattori wanted it, he would oblige. He wasn’t familiar with this quiet and reasonably calm Osakan, and he wanted to learn more.
“— H… Hold it.”
His mind fails to stop what his lips blurt out. The Osakan’s expression of confusion falters into a pained stumble and he sighs. The inward curses he was roaring at himself… “… Jus’ what exactly do ya mean ‘bout secrets?”
Heiji was bracing for it. Some misguided presumption that he was missing some gaps here and there—or perhaps the blond detective might divert away from the subject and actually leave? That would certainly be some good graces of luck in it for him there. Still, he couldn’t help the curiosity. If KID did believe that Hakuba knew something about this that could help… Well. There could certainly be a roundabout way to go about getting that information, right?
Hakuba, who had turned to take his leave, reluctantly held his position at the Osakan’s request. At the question, he raised an incredulous brow and turned to glance back over his shoulder, chuckling in amusement.
“If you’re joking, Hattori-san, it’s not funny,” he answered at first, then let his shoulders sag. “But, ah…”
Was the memory loss legitimate, then? If he’d forgotten, then it ought to stay forgotten. That would make things easier for the foreign detective – much easier. But then, how sincere would his apology stand if Hakuba refused the opportunity to play the part of the Good Samaritan? And more importantly, the foreign detective did not want to see how Kaitou might react.
Hakuba sighed again. “The secret is what started the entire argument, Hattori-san. I’d prefer not to repeat it, but perhaps this would jog your memory?”
He reached into his suit jacket to dig for the lighter, which he pulled out and held up for the other detective to see.
“… Go ahead.”
Like a cornered and wounded animal, Heiji remained sitting up in his bed with eyes meticulously watching the foreign detective’s further movements into the room. Whilst moving the folder out of the way for the vase, he verily wished that he could toss him out to spare the headache…
Well. As if there was anything else he could do to throw him out the window, or call the nurses (though, certainly, his pride would’ve prevented him from ever picking the latter choice). “Perhaps… doubt it, though. I’m passin’ by jus’ fine.”
All things considered, no one close enough needed to know about his lack thereof knowledge considering this event. Hakuba having such of it was the last thing the Osakan wanted him to know—it would be in his nature to throw a barb about it without physical repercussions.
“Fine, fine, indeed. I’m glad to hear it, then.”
Hakuba set the vase down, carefully brushed the plants to adjust the arrangement. When finished, he stood back to admire the work for a moment.
“I thought the request was odd, anyway. The last time I saw you, you were quite healthy. Ready to kill, perhaps, but not in peril. I left for London immediately after, so I’m not sure what that thief was thinking. Ah well.”
The blond detective turned to look down at Heiji, raising a faint brow, smile easy and pleasant. Mostly because it sounded like he was going to be able to leave without further time investment, which made him happy.
“In that case, I’ll wish you luck and a speedy recovery… and apology, once more, for things between us in the past.” Hakuba sighed, expression evening out. “Don’t think that your keeping my secrets has gone unnoticed or unappreciated, either. Adieu, detective."
The flowers were noted, though it slightly pained him to know that his understanding of the language hidden behind those petals was limited. He certainly needed to look that up later. That confusion seemed to deepen into a slight frown. “… Ya heard wrong. I never asked him ‘bout needin’ yer help. At all.”
Heiji remembered the short visit from the phantom thief—how could he, with the peculiar predicament he seemed to have gotten himself into? Eyes darted back to the nightstand, where he placed the folder—the gem KID stolen should be back in the hands of the owner. He’d requested Otaki to return it in exchange for the file on his case. “Mutual or otherwise, I’m ‘fraid he sent ya on a wild goose chase.”
“It’s not like KID to waste my time… off the clock, anyway."
Hakuba stepped further into the room, invited or not, en route to the folder laiden nightstand. It was more difficult to control his temper around Hattori than the half-brit wanted to admit, but he somehow held it in.
"I will take your word for it if there’s really nothing that I can do to assist you, Hattori-san; I do not wish to antagonize you further. Perhaps he thought that I had some knowledge that you were lacking.” Pause. “Ah, might I set this here?” he asked, gesturing to the vase and then to the nightstand.
“Finally wrestled it out’f th’ ol’ man. Th’ report only says that they found me somewhere in Tokyo, not Nagoya… some blocks away there was a fire ta an abandoned cafe…
Can’ help but wonder’f maybe I was involved with that? Ain’ sure… Th’ doc said I didn’ have any burns or nothin’ when I came in… but why Tokyo of all places…?”
It took a couple of phone calls, but Hakuba was able to procure the police report that in turn gave him the information he was after. That is, the location of the hospital in which Hattori Heiji and been admitted. The fire raised questions, but the foreign detective decided to wait and gather more evidence before coming to any sort of theory – at least for the time being.
He checked in at the nurse’s station, then approached the door in question, crocus bunch in hand. Not wanting to disturb a potentially sleeping Osakan, Hakuba quietly opened the door wide enough to poke his head in, careful to keep his expression neutral, but on the docile side.
“Ah, Hattori-san…?"
Respite from the Rain (osakansax)
Nothing. Just an abandoned cafe, the Osakan would come to realize.
He relocated the discarded windbreaker on the floor, pocketed the dead cellphone and kicked the still sopping mess of clothing to the side. As he recalled, Heiji hadn’t been quite fond of the thing. It didn’t do much to break the wind, or at least lessen its hindrance as he ran the whole day looking for one shred of evidence to bring back to Osaka. But the bare bones of the fact was there wasn’t anything, not even a spot out of the ordinary that would catch his eye.
But that factor was the exact reason why his alarum bells were being set off. The dark-skinned teen allowed a quiet, exasperated sigh to escape him. What exactly were the odds that this case concerned his mutual benefactors, his superiors as it were? Or maybe it was a warning to himself, that perhaps he’d been caught in his ideal of perhaps shattering this organization from the inside. A thought like that could make him too paranoid, and what then of the original persona? How safe would he have been regardless of the pseudo-sleeper agent’s existence?
His thoughts upon that matter were shoved aside by a voice he didn’t recognize at first, and as such he responded by swiftly blowing out the lighter’s flare and pressing himself to the nearest wall. Of course, the owner of the voice was hardly unrecognizable—Hakuba finally returned, that forgetful teen who’d left an article of clothing behind. Inwardly he cursed himself as his hoary gaze fixed themselves upon the lighter resting upon the palm of his hand—damn. It would’ve been so easy just to return to the front and hand the lighter back, wouldn’t it? But that agent wanted no confrontation whatsoever, not even an exchange of neutral words. Slipping out the back would’ve been the preferable way out—and he could just mail this item back, procuring the address of another superintendent should be no problem, right?
But what if it was sent straight to the damn man? Chances were pretty high that Superintendent Hakuba knew nothing about this smoking vice of his son…Well. This was a bit of a tight bend, wasn’t it?
A handful of minutes later and the lighter persisted in its inability to be found. Hakuba abandoned the search only when his phone vibrated in his pocket. The detective straightened up, one hand on his back, the other lifting the phone to his ear.
“Moshi moshi?"
It was Baaya, of course; Hakuba rarely received phone calls from anyone else. She apologized for not getting his earlier messages and, though the static, exclaimed that she would be there soon.
"Ah, it’s all right, Baaya. I’ve found a place to hide away from the rain. Yes, it’s safe."
The detective paced, bare foot, while he conversed, tone light and casual. Genuine. With the apparent lack of company, Hakuba felt comfortable being more or less himself.
"Mm-hmm. Oh, I ran into Hattori-san. No, he’s gone off somewhere.” Pause. “You’ll have to see the bruise for yourself. No, I didn’t antagonize him! Well… maybe a little…”
The blond laughed, striding to the window to peer out, small and pleasant smile on his face.
“I know, I know. I’ll be careful. Ah, and, Baaya, I seem to have misplaced the lighter…"
Silence for a few moments as the governess launched into a well-intentioned and loud rant. Hakuba cut her off. "Ah, I know, I know.. I’ll keep looking. I must have dropped it somewhere… but I was certain that I had it when I got here, and.. Hmm. You don’t think that Hattori-san would have taken…?” Another brief pause. “N-no! Of course not, Baaya! Not with him. Certainly not. God…"
He sighed.
"Fifteen to twenty minutes? Certainly.. I’ll trace my steps and meet you there in a bit. Thank you, Baaya.”
The detective hung up his cell phone and checked the time before replacing it in his pocket, only to pull out his watch to, again, check the time. “Damn cellular towers are almost thirty four seconds slow… Unacceptable."
Rolling his eyes, Hakuba reached for his drenched shirt in preparation to leave.