The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

“Just about.” Even though his back was to Hakuba he really didn’t have to see him to feel the waves of curiosity. The kettle whistled and sputtered and Kaito snagged it off the burner then balanced the tray one handed and made his way back to Hakuba.   

“Could you grab the tray and set it on the table?”

“Yes, certainly.” Hakuba was at least familiar with this step, hopping up from the chair to take the tray from Kaito as requested. A courtesy nod was given before he turned away, placing said tray at the center. It was a lovely spread, really; much like tea time with Baaya, though they didn’t have Walkers usually. Not without his mum sending up a special box from home. What an odd and unexpected treat! 

“I appreciate your humoring me, Kuroba-kun. I honestly didn’t think that you’d let me through the door…" 

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

“You can sit down and stay out from under my feet while I make the tea.” Kaito clipped and opened the pantry for the tea. A beat up plain grey kettle came in to view along with a small earthen pot. After he water was put on the stove Kaito moved back into the pantry and pulled down some Walker shortbread cookies in a red tin. 

Smoothly Kaito moved about the tiny kitchen with practiced ease. Pulling out the bone china tea set with the gold trim and rose overlay, arranging the cups, pot and cookies on plates and a tray in the same design. Sugar came off a high self in the cabinet above the stove and cream ventured from the fridge in a matter of minutes the only thing they waited for was the water.

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Stay out from under… oh. “Oh! Right, ah, apologies, Kuroba-kun!” Hakuba backpedalled from his former classmate, retreating to a chair over yonder to observe from a safe distance. It didn’t keep his gaze from wandering, though, memorizing every little detail that he could about the kitchen and what he could see of the rest of the house. 

Of course, he then noticed the particular brand of cookie and cocked his head to one side, curious and yet again surprised. Other puzzle pieces fell into place the longer he watched, too, painting a familiar yet vague sort of picture that he felt he should have been able to recognize before. 

The tea set’s design… sugar, cream, shortbread cookies? Was Kuroba not making matcha? Who didn’t make matcha for guests? And if not green tea, what kind of tea was Kuroba making?  He leaned forward in hopes of getting a better view, but in the interest of staying out of the way, he never let himself quite leave the chair – only almost.

“Do you still have everything well in hand, Kuroba-kun?” he called. 

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito wanted so badly to break out into a wide smile but held back to a minor passive one. To be honest he had completely forgotten about the shoes being there but they did provide a perfect opportunity to see is Hakuba would react traditionally. Well there was a reaction, a tiny one, at least there wasn’t the screaming accusations.

“Great!! Let me put on the kettle and grab the tea. You can sit where ever you like. Make yourself at home.” He said cheerily and moved easily to the kitchen area. Leaving Hakuba to find his own way.

The abundant cheer seemed manic at best, and Hakuba winced as he followed along. Had he upset Kuroba by noticing the shoes? What should he have done? And why, now, was he being granted such freedom in the house? It worried him. Worried him in that way when prey knows it’s being played with, even if the cat swears otherwise. The detective padded, slippers making soft sounds as he attempted to keep up, not wanting to get lost or be swept with too much temptation. And there was, really, so much temptation.

“Th-thank you,” he said, voice full of caution. But, really, now that he had Kuroba talking to him, he didn’t really want to leave his side. “Is there anything that I can do to help?”

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

“You’re welcome.” He chirped and knelt down in front of the mans feet to collect the shoes and lay the slippers down. Carefully and neatly he rested the dress shoes next to one that look frightfully like KID’s and closed the door softly.

“Do you want anything? Tea?” He asked with his usually teasing tone. 

“Tea would be…”   Hakuba’s voice trailed off as the shoes caught his gaze and he blinked at them, freezing for a heartbeat as the evidence smacked him in the face. He recognized those shoes. They were, without a doubt- no, there was the possibility for assumptions to ruin him, but they could EASILY be – Kaitou Kid’s shoes.

But why would Kuroba leave them by the door? His brows knit but he tore his gaze away, biting back the oh-so-strong urge to investigate. Leave it, he commanded himself like he might a hunting dog. Instead, he turned his attention  back to Kaito and nodded with another small and carefully measured smile. “Lovely. Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

If the tease was noticed, he didn’t let it show. Whether that was because he was used to Kuroba’s teases or he just didn’t care enough as long as there was tea… was up for debate. 

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

For the second time that morning Kaito felt his brow lift. He aloud Hakuba pass before closing the door. Out of habit he click the lock closed then quickly opened it again. “Sorry habit. You can place your shoes in here. Do you want a pair of slippers?” He said with a small grin and crouched next to the shoe cupboard. With a soft slide of the door he waited for the shoes and an answer. 

It took a little bit of effort to remove his stupidly expensive shoes, but Hakuba did so as quickly as he could, practiced movements still a little bit awkward at the impracticality of it all. “Ah, yes, please,” he said in regard to the slippers, stepping out of his shoes and offered them to him. It was so… odd to see Kuroba there, serving him. It was only polite, of course, but… even so… he felt somehow guilty. 

He knew that he was being ridiculous; Kuroba had invited him in, had been more or less cordial in class before aside from the pranks… there was really no reason for him to be afraid. Well, other than the uncertainty of addressing the topic, anyway. 

“Thank you…" 

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

Now this was a change and a confusing one. Kaito shift on the balls of his feet to his heels, a sign of relaxation in his book. His curiosity was piqued but he was also conflicted. His self protection as KID and the longing for a person to simple be near, even if it was Hakuba, were waging war. Slipping his hands out of his pockets he rested one on the door lightly then looked back to the man. He wonder if Hakuba knew how apparent his thoughts and feelings were at the moment. 

Shifting to the side he held the door open and offered a pass inside. “We’ll talk inside.”

Of all of the responses that he’d considered for Kuroba to give, that was near the bottom of the list. At least, of the responses that made any sort of logical sense whatsoever. Hakuba blinked, confused, and it took a few seconds for it to process before he nodded. 

“Oh! If that’s really all right, Kuroba-kun…” That was a politeness convention of Japanese culture, for certain. All the same, he managed a bow and took the opportunity to step inside, shock and awe readily apparent on his face. He laughed in spite of himself, shaking his head. “God, I never expected you to…”

He cut himself off abruptly, grimacing. Bad slip. 

“Ah… Shoes off here…?" 

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

A soft laugh escaped the master thief then morphed into something a bit stronger. It wasn’t blusterous; it wasn’t even loud but it did make Kaito’s sides hurt from the strain. Struggling to right himself he straightened and took a deep breath.

“I’m doing fine. I’ve picked up a part time job and sent in some applications and got a few replies.” He said quietly and watched the sky.

It was a strange sort of calm for him. A weird, very weird feeling seemed to shift and settled in him.  Looking back to his former classmate he moved his hands away from the door to his hoodie’s pockets.

“I wasn’t expecting you to ever swing by here. Except with another claim that I’m KID. So why are you here, Hakuba?”

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Of course Kaito would immediately assume… why wouldn’t he?!  God, accuse a person for the same crime half a dozen times and suddenly that’s all that ever seems to stick.

“It wasn’t to accuse you of anything, Kuroba-kun, if that’s what you’re insinuating…” Hakuba said, immediately on the defensive, though he halted the worst of it quickly. “Ah, no, I… I actually wanted to talk. If you had time. I…” He sighed. “What I mean to say is…” There were plenty of things that he could list – he was lonely, he needed a friend, he missed him, he wanted to find out how the whole stealing precious stones thing was going… 

In the end, what he decided was a quiet and apologetic request.

“…I need some advice." 

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

A neatly groomed eyebrow winged up at the detective’s flustered speech  and complete out of character nerves. Awkward smile. He thought then opened the door a bit wider to get a good swing shut in case he had to bolt. “Huh?" 

That… wasn’t quite the response he’d been expecting. What was the protocol for that sort of thing in Japanese culture? Smile fading, Hakuba strained to remember, desperately recalling what he’d learned from textbooks and Baaya, but returned no results. Perhaps he needed to restate the question in way that was more direct? That felt wrong, somehow, for both Japanese and British culture, but he really couldn’t think of anything else. 

"We graduated fifteen days ago, Kuroba-kun… I wanted to see how you were holding up without your classmates to tease. Are… things going well for you?" 

It wasn’t the real reason he came, but he was genuinely interested in Kaito’s well-being.

The Interim

smokebombsandmirrors:

The minute the knock resound Kaito was cursing. After catching the soldering iron to an already scarred part of his index finger he want to throw his half finished glider towards the offending sound. Climbing off the stool he worked his way through the metal pipes and white sail cloth towards the large framed photo that acted like a door. Dark grey sweat pants hung low on his hips as he snagged a white tee shirt and red zip up hoodie.

Half hoping who ever had dropped by had left in the time he got down stairs he opened the door smoothly and looked out.

“Hakuba?!” He exclaimed.

There he was, Kuroba Kaito in all of his… casual glory. Hakuba tilted his head just a few degrees to the left, looking him over with a vague sort of expression of disbelief. He caught himself in a heartbeat, though, and shook his head to set things right again, forcing a wincing smile in an attempt to be pleasant.

“Ah, Kuroba-kun! I’m… sorry for interrupting your day. I… was wondering if… well, wait, let me start again.” Hakuba cleared his throat with a tiny, awkward cough, and forced his smile to be just a little bit wider. “What I meant to say was… It’s been a while, Kuroba-kun; how’ve you been?”

The Interim || smokebombsandmirrors

Why was he doing this…?

It’d been two weeks since he’d graduated from Ekoda high, finishing his GED at not quite but NEARLY at the top of his class. Two weeks since he’d seen the so-called friends (they were more like acquaintances, really) in class. No one had contacted him since, but he’d never expected them to. 

Really, since leaving school, things had never been quite so lonely, and it upset him. He had no one at home, no friends, and not having the grueling Japanese school schedule left him with far too much free time to be happy or healthy. Especially with so many decisions to make.

And time was running out.

That was why he stood in front of Kuroba Kaito’s house that afternoon, nervously fumbling with his keys before trading them for the pocket watch. Hakuba glanced at it, then at his wrist watch, then the door, then his pocket watch again before snapping it closed and slipping it back into his pocket once more. He could do this. He was Hakuba Saguru, after all; famous international detective. Young prodigy. A genius. Wasn’t he? 

Regardless of their actuality, Hakuba felt like a fool as he knocked on the front door. An imbecile, even. Why this person? Kuroba had more reasons to despise him than most, but he was the only one that he could think of who might be remotely intelligent and honest enough to help him. It wouldn’t end well, he knew that. He wasn’t welcome at the Kuroba’s door, but he waited anyway. Waited and hoped, fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt.