Tag Archives: start

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

Lost Keys || osakandetectivehattori

osakandetectivehattori:

whiteknighthakuba:

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Hakuba was nearly unconscious by the time he got to his car. The world shifted around him, twisting the pavement beneath his feet. Still, somehow, he found the study metal frame of the rental car and pressed against it, breaths ragged. The young detective steadied himself, then reached into his pocket for the keys which… were not there. Frantic, he overturned each of his pockets, scattering their contents to the ground. 

Cell phone, pocket watch, wallet, loose change, half-empty pack of cigarettes, lighter, another pocket watch, handkerchief, pen, detective notebook, and a mint tin found themselves scattered at his feet. Still no keys. Hakuba tried the handle of the car in desperation but, being locked, didn’t budge. He coughed, pulling back to try breaking the window in, which only left him with a sore elbow and a frustrated sigh.

The others were still after him. He had his sample; he needed to get out of there and the keys had to be recovered. The particular key ring that had been lost would grant access to not only the car, but also the house, his gym locker, filing cabinet drawers, bedroom, safety deposit box, and so on. This wouldn’t do…

But even as he leaned back against the car, he was having trouble thinking clearly. Something about the lack of sleep, the mysterious strain he’d tested, and the blood loss made it difficulty for him to stand much longer, too. His vision blurred, the world tilted sideways and Hakuba found himself face first against the ground. He wasn’t sure who’d turned out the stars, but everything was getting dark.

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When Hattori got home he and his father were going to sit down and have a long conversation about ‘little errands’. Little errands did not mean flying to Tokyo. Little errands did not involve tracking down a stupid, stuck up annoying detective who should have been home, but wasn’t. Little errands did not mean walking all over the place – he missed his baby – and getting lost… sort of…

Apparently something was to be delivered to Superintendent General Hakuba. His father had been asked to do it, but the case that he was working on – and Hattori in secret – was keeping him busy. Instead of sending a lower ranked officer, he had dumped the task on Hattori, saying something about wanting him to “learn a little something from Hakuba”.

The hell could he learn from that arrogant ass?

Okay, maybe he was just in a really bad mood, but his feet were sore. He was tired, lost – not actually lost, he was never lost – and he just wanted to crawl into bed already. But no one knew where Superintendent General Hakuba was, and Hakuba himself wasn’t at home where he should have been.

So now Hattori was looking all over town for him.

Hattori was about to give up and just leave the files with the police station – if he could find it again – when low and behold, there was Hakuba.

Hattori had opened his mouth to call for the half-brit, but something in his gut stopped him. There was something wrong with the way Hakuba was acting. The way his body swayed, and the panicked look on his face. His feet started to move before his brain could catch up with his movements. It was then that he noticed Hakuba slipping.

He reached Hakuba a few moments after he hit the ground. Hattori dropped to his knees and gently shook the detective. 

“Oi, Hakuba!” Hattori whispered in a demanding tone. “Hakuba!”

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The voice startled Hakuba awake and he gasped, head turning quickly to take in his surroundings. The rental car. The blood. The items scattered on the ground…  He pushed himself up onto his hip, grimacing, then turned his attention to Hattori, taking just a moment to breathe before he reached for his shoulder.

“Hattori!” He hissed, then gathered himself under his feet, taking any assistance if offered. “What in the bloody hell are you doing here?!" 

Hakuba bit off a string of curses that ultimately came out under his breath as he struggled, back against the car, to get back to standing. He had to get the evidence to safety, had to get out of the area before they caught up, and he desperately needed his keys. 

But there really was something wrong with the half-brit. Something in his eyes, and the sweat that gathered that made his bangs curl and cling to his forehead. He gasped at the air, using the other teenager to steady himself, then stumbled, pitching forward into Hattori. "The keys. Help me find my keys. Please." 

It was a desperate plea from a ragged voice, and the blond detective huffed loudly, then shook his head. Too many lights. Too many floating lights. 

"The keys… I need… I need my keys." 

by

Catching Up With Fate

kuroba-k:

Kaito had always appreciated his work clothes at the hospital, it provided free movement and was rather practical. Unlike the nurse’s, his trousers were a dark blue, loose fitting, accompanied by a white polo shirt sporting the hospital logo and he was allowed to wear trainers. The room he usually worked in was on the smaller side, but provided enough space for a little desk, a shaft full of clean laundry, a shelf with different kinds of paddings and a few small weights. He had a little stool with wheels and in the middle of it was the therapy bed. The white walls were decorated with a few posters showing models of bones and muscles and next to the desk hung a small light box, providing him with the chance to recheck X-ray and other images.

A few minutes ago a nurse had come by, handing him a folder with a new patient’s files. The guy had been treated by a different therapist so far but that department didn’t quite have the equipment for further rehabilitation and this one would need a full program. Kaito mentally booked the gym and thanked her, smiling. His superior knew that he liked working in the gym and he was grateful that he often was assigned to patients needing it.
He was a surprised when he flipped open the file, after the nurse left again, not having expected a name he knew. Especially not this particular name, he’d thought Hakuba went back to England and stayed there. For a moment he wondered if he should redirect the detective to another therapist, telling the office that he knew Hakuba and wasn’t sure if the man would feel comfortable with him, due to some missunderstandings they had at school. But that was years ago and they were squabbling all the time, not fighting. So, this was worth a try.
Professionally it was definitely worth the case. He’d studied the files for quite some time and started to edge out a few treatment ideas that would have to be narrowed down or perhaps even discarded after he’d seen and examined Hakuba, but he just liked having some ideas ready.

Hakuba’s appointment was first thing next day, so he got the room ready for examination when he got in and sat down to look at the most recent X-ray again while waiting for his patient.

Nothing had changed about Hakuba being a morning person throughout the years, even after the drastic changes in his life in the previous one. But two factors made it significantly more difficult and time-consuming, and these he tried to push into the back of his mind as he drove to his appointment through rush hour traffic.

Met with little to no success, the fretting detective made his way into the office by way of crutches, in no mood to put on a cheerful face for rabble around him. His leg hurt, his head hurt, he was tired, and having to get physical therapy at 22 was not something he enjoyed.

His last therapist had been so condescending. Every encouraging word dripped with sickly-sweet forced enthusiasm that Hakuba had to wonder if she’d secretly been trying to make his condition worse. Or, she just thought he was stupid. Either way, it hadn’t helped. He was still in pain, still unable to put weight on that leg, and still unable to work, which was the biggest detriment of all. And he had so little hope that this next person would be any better.

Sighing, he checked in at the front desk, shifting the crutches to one arm so that he could sign the appropriate paperwork, then managed to take a seat in the waiting area only to be called back almost instantly. Although he was grateful that he wouldn’t have to wait an ungodly amount of time for his appointment – which he’d taken great pains to be punctual for – the whole process of sitting down and standing up with his leg in that state made him cross. He should have just waited while standing, but then… that sounded exhausting, too.

Soon, he was brought to the office where he was to meet his therapist who, once the nurse opened the door to, looked startlingly familiar. Hakuba stared as he was ushered into the room, crutching all at once more awkwardly, near stumbling. Was it…? Could it really be…? 

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“K-Kuroba-kun?” A pause. “Ah, Kuroba-san?" 

by

Bloody Moriarty

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When Hakuba looked at the pair of plane tickets in his hands, he felt a certain sense of dread. They were meant to be a gift, a fresh start, and something to get his mind off of the recent verdict of his suspension. But all that they did was drive his failure home. While he’d completed his nine year-long quest, he’d destroyed everything else that he’d built in the process. The fact that his father was extending an offer of help was more than enough evidence of that.

It’d been almost seven years since he’d left Japan for what he’d hoped would be a permanent change. Once he’d graduated from Ekoda High School, it was straight to Oxford with only one or two minor distractions by way of kidnapping and torture, graduated with a four year degree in criminal science with a minor in english (emphasis in journalism), applied for and granted full British citizenship, and been welcomed into Scotland Yard with open, greedy arms. Nearly everything had gone according to plan, just as had been designated oh so many years ago… with a few niggling changes in the details.

…something about a the famous international Hakuba Saguru being forced into early retirement at twenty-four years old, hospitalized for nearly a year due to a broken back. The papers failed to mention the circumstances of the incident, of course, but it was just as well given that his heroism came with the sordid details of deliberate disobedience, drug addiction, and (court ruled ‘justifiable’) homicide. 

Still, the fact of the matter was that Hakuba was in desperate need for a change in scene, and as much as he would have loved to run to Paris or Rio, neither could offer the familial support that he needed. Not that his father, the still-presiding Superintendent General, really could, but the wealth of onsens and homeopathic remedies available seemed promising.

Depressing, but promising. 

But… there was one small glimmer of hope. And that was in the form of his once idol and colleague, Kudou Shinichi. They’d never had the chance to really connect while he was in Japan before, mostly due to the other’s sudden disappearance, but if he were returning, perhaps… 

Well, it was worth a shot, anyway. It wasn’t as if Hakuba expected this letter to result in anything different. Previous correspondence had been ignored, and despite his best efforts to investigate Kudou’s whereabouts, he had never found any sort of useful resolution. No closure. 

He drafted the letter in four attempts and posted it via Royal Mail, international, overnight. Just in case. Enclosed was nothing but a single sheet of paper with scribbled blue characters– the shaky handwriting of a once steady hand.

Dearest 
My fi 
Greetin

Kudou Shinichi,

I hope that this letter finds you well. I know that it has been quite some time since we last spoke, but Ihope that thi I do hope that this will reach you. It seems that I will be returning to Japan to visit for six months an indep indeterm undetermined unspecified period of time, but if agreeable, would very much appreciate the chance to meet with you.

There are many things that I would like to discuss with you, not the least of which being the death defeat of my so-called Moriarty and your opin ethical opinion of such.

Please respond if willing – I  via post, email, or phone at the information listed below.

Sincerely yours,

Hakuba S. J.

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It would have to do.

Japan, for Hakuba, teemed with loose ends. It was possible, however, that there was no better time than the present to fix that. 

by

( ø∑ø)

japansfamousdetective:

Shinori woke in an unfamiliar bed with an odd taste in her mouth, cuddled up to something warm and familiar. Brows knitted together she was aware of only a couple of things which was impressive for her upon waking up. The first thing she was aware of was that the house in which she was in was familiar, as familiar as the blonde she was snuggled up to.

The second thing she was aware of was that she, and the attractive blonde, were stark bare beneath the blanket. Pale cheeks went bright with color, blue eyes snapping open with confused clarity and she found herself wide awake. She was in bed with Hakuba, his bed she presumed from the brief bits of memory of the previous night she could remember. Naked. And they had been happily snuggling together like there hadn’t been anything wrong with the situation.

Not that there was entirely anything wrong with the situation, mind. There were just… It was just…

Moving to roll over, so as to maybe stop staring at the sleeping blonde in deep embarrassment, she found herself squeezing her eyes closed as her stomach lurched. Oh… No no, this couldn’t happen. She hadn’t drank enough to be hungover, right? But she’d obviously drank enough to end up in bed with her friend and crush..

Her embarrassment doubled when she had to slip herself from Hakuba’s hold and rush to the bathroom, attempting to retch though anything that had been in her stomach was long digested. However much she’d had, with nothing really to counter it, had obviously been enough to make her nauseously hung over. He was going to wake up to her naked and attempting to puke.

What a way for one’s crush to find them.

The shifting on the mattress called Hakuba’s attention from sleep, and he stirred reluctantly, clinging to the warmth and comfort of the sheets and the body that- wait. Where was the…? The male detective, vaguely aware of something missing, patted the bed next to him with his eyes closed, lips curving to a frown as the sound of retreating footsteps reached him. 

Still groggy, he clung to the remnants of slumber while recounting his schedule. The exam wasn’t until Monday; that left nearly two days to repair… some thirty-six hours… wait, what time was it? 

Hakuba rolled over, vaguely surprised to find himself without any clothing at all, and squinted at the bedside clock. It was still fairly early, but…  He groped next for his phone, checked the date, then hesitated. The night before- studying with Shinori, a little bit of wine to ease the stress, and… oh. 

That was when the retching caught his attention and he grimaced, quickly pulling himself up and out of bed, stumbling for his trousers and boxers, which he put on as he hopped over toward the bathroom.

“Kudo-kun?” he asked from the doorway, knocking gently on the frame before peeking in. Hakuba winced, remembering only then that not everyone could hold their alcohol as well as he could, and cautiously stepped, barefoot, onto the cold tile to tip-toe over to the closet, pulling out a towel, a clean bathrobe, and a bottle of water which he brought over to her, crouching. “God, I’m sorry…. here, some water. How’s your head?”

The development was admittedly a little sudden, but not exactly startling. After all, they’d kissed before the previous night already. Granted, it had been an oops moment, but they’d recovered well enough and… well, here they were. 

by

The Meaning of the Monocle

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The dawn of the fourth day, Thursday, March 27th, found one Hakuba Saguru up early to prepare. First it was jogging, which had become a daily ritual without school to get in the way, then a shower, and finally breakfast with tea. Once the newspaper had been scoured, the detective checked all of his messages, called into the station, and prepped his paperwork for next week’s cases over more tea. 

He drove through Tokyo traffic to deliver the case files and stopped for a light lunch with his father, who couldn’t make it, then stopped by a bookshop before finally going to the grocer for some last minute items for the evening. The cook had already begun the roast hours beforehand, but he was going to make dessert himself, for which his fairly particular tastes required personal selection.

Three hours to go. The mansion was spotless, the dining room set, the wine selected and chilled, and the chocolate cake cooling. When Baaya asked what he was going through so much trouble for, he simply shrugged and offered a helpless, “Mum raised me to be a good host, Baaya. That’s all.”

Ten minutes to, Hakuba straightened his tie, looking himself over in the floor-length mirror on the inside of his closet door. He looked fine, of course. He always did. There was nothing to be nervous about; simply meeting a friend for dinner and drinks, something long overdue for classmates. Kuroba had been his only friend, really, and even then they hadn’t been particularly close…  Hakuba sighed, shut the closet door, and nearly tripped over one of his handful of moving boxes scattered about his bedroom floor. 

None of them were packed or sealed except one next to the book case; books were always the easiest to pack as they fit into boxes and stacked so neatly. Even then, he’d had to open and reseal it twice already to get at books he’d wanted to reread in his empty evenings. 

It wasn’t as if he knew where he was going yet, either. For all he knew, he was staying in Ekoda for the foreseeable future. The thought made him wince, but he brushed it off and left the room to begin the trek to the front of the house. He didn’t want to be mussed when his guest arrived, hopefully, right on time… 

by

Mysterious Murder at the Mystery Shack

lxttledipper:

[ whiteknighthakuba ]

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     Wait, people actually wear deerstalkers? Is this guy some kind of wannabe Sherlock Holmes? For not entirely employment related reasons— he has to admit his curiosity is peaked by the strange attire unfamiliar to Gravity Falls— Dipper approaches the man who’d just entered the Mystery Shack.

     —— “Are you looking for something?”

“Yes, actually…”  

The person in question adjusted his cap with a bit of a grimace; wondering at once how he’d be perceived by people not intimately familiar with the homage. Did Americans read Doyle? With the comforting jab easing his self-consciousness, Hakuba forced a small, professional smile as he nodded to the boy, reaching into his inner jacket pocket for the little black notebook that he kept there.

“My name is Saguru… James Hakuba, and I am a detective working on behalf of Scotland Yard to investigate some… particularities about the area. Would you have time to answer a handful of questions, young man?”

by

Oh Come On You Look Cute~

meitantei-cowlick:

2. Only a hoodie that’s too big

Shinori looked herself over in the mirror and couldn’t stop herself from blushing brightly, small fingers poking out from the overly large sleeves to fix her glasses for the umpteenth time. She appreciated the jacket to cover herself while her clothes washed, no thanks to a certain thief and his ridiculous pranks, but to think about the fact she was naked beneath it…

“This is ridiculous,” she scowled at herself, crossing her arms of her chest. Which may have pulled the edge of the hoodie higher up her thigh, which caused her to yank it down as soon as she noticed. “It’s just Hakuba, and at least I’m clothed in something that won’t fall off my frame.”

Straightening her shoulders some, the female detective tried to get a handle on her embarrassment before walking out of the bathroom to search out the blonde who was far too kind to offer her clothing and a place to sleep for the night. She wasn’t going to let something as silly as wearing nothing but one of his overly large (on her) hoodies be a reason to not hang out with her friend.

She didn’t notice that her fingers had moved to comb through her uneven shoulder length hair in nervous habit.

When the young woman found him, Hakuba couldn’t help but smile at the way that she looked. God, she was adorable. As mortifying as he’s certain the whole situation must have been for her, she did wear it well. 

“Ah, Kudou-kun,” he said, greeting her with an arm full of blankets and sheets. “I’ve got the fresh sheets for the guest room, if you’re about ready for bed. And…” Hakuba looked her over once again, smile turning sympathetic. “I’m so sorry that that’s all I had to offer… I don’t even think my drawstring sweats would do; you’re just so wonderfully petite.  Will you be comfortable enough for the night? Your clothes will be ready and hanging on your door by morning." 

by

Two is Too Much

Ah, the shopping district of Shibuya – the perfect place for some retail therapy. Hakuba, the prestigious and famous foreign high school detective, left his car in the parking garage and stepped into the large mall with a deep, happy sigh. It was the weekend, he’d finished all of his homework, his case files, and his chores, and there was nothing else left to get between himself and a brand new tie.

Or so he thinks…

by

A Bicycle Built For Two

rainydayprodigy:

[ whiteknighthakuba ]

          This is the stupidest idea he has e v e r had. Hemophiliac flying down the road on a bicycle way too tall for him please step aside.

          “L-look out!!”

     Basil tries to brake to avoid hitting the stranger but the bike fails him, only managing to lessen the blow slightly as he closes his eyes and squeaks in anticipation.

C r a s h ! !

It was not a pleasant way to finish up the morning’s work. Hakuba had just set his briefcase in the trunk of the car and stepped around to make his way to the driver’s seat when the warning call reached him. He looked up, blinking, only heartbeats before impact. The detective was thrown one way, dashed half against concrete, half against asphalt, and left dazed and tumbled. 

And the other… Hakuba grimaced, groaning out a sign that he was still alive, looking for the bike and its rider, though most of what he saw was the dirty underside of his car just a foot away. Strangely, he couldn’t seem pick himself up to continue his search. Was he… pinned?