The Meaning of the Monocle

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Kaito nodded and placed the helmet on the floor then gingerly moved the backpack off his back. He unzipped his coat and shrugged out of the leather and hung it up. Reaching for the pack he pulled out the temperature bag with the wine. “I brought a wine. I’m not sure if its any good but I knew you liked them.”

He slipped the bottle out of the bag and offer the bottle of Pingus.

Taking the offered bottle, Hakuba turned it over in his hands to inspect the label. The name looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it… Likely something he’d had before at one of his mother’s parties, but he wasn’t certain. Regardless, he wondered how it would stack up to the wine he’d already chosen for the evening, taking a moment to reconcile the conflicting data in his mind. It was proper to bring a gift for the host, and wine was an appropriate choice. But what about when the event was wine tasting? He’d have to ask Baaya later.

“Thank you, Kuroba-kun,” Hakuba said instead, giving a bow out of habit- he’d been in Japan for too long. “Shall we?" 

The Meaning of the Monocle

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Kaito grinned. He was tickled. “You flatter me, Baaya-san.”

As he passed Hakuba he looked up to the detective and gave him a true smile. “Thanks for inviting me.”

The blond nodded, swallowing, and forced a polite smile. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Hakuba was so, so very nervous. “You’re welcome, Kuroba-kun… again, I’m just pleased that you could make it.”

Baaya did her best to avoid causing her master any further pain by heading into the kitchen, leaving the two boys alone. She thought she could trust Hakuba to manage getting them to the dining room, at least.

“We can, ah, put your helmet over here…” he said, gesturing to the small hallway for guest coats and the like, lined with hooks and shelves. “And then, the dining room is this way…" 

The Meaning of the Monocle

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“You know?” He blinked then gave Hakuba a sly glance over his shoulder. He was blushing slightly and so pleased. “Have you been talk about me?”

“Of course he has!” Baaya laughed, leading them into the mansion, ignoring Hakuba’s horrified expression. “The young master has gone on about you at length…”

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“Ba-Baaya!” Hakuba cried, scurrying to hurry ahead so that he could hold the door, which was completely unnecessary but all that he could think of to do. “Yes, I’ve been known to discuss my classmates with Baaya, but that’s not unusual! Not at all!" 

The governess patted the detective’s head as she walked by. "None half so charming as Kuroba-kun, however~" 

The Meaning of the Monocle

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“In situations like this you’re suppose the take the rose and place it into your lapel like so.” Kaito chirped playfully and slipped it there himself.

“Now, care to introduce me to your lovely companion?”  He said and clapped his hands. A bouquet of Gardenia’s appeared in his arms and he offered it to Baaya. “Kuroba Kaito, its a pleasure to meet you.”

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The detective looked down at the rose on his person, then turned to watch Kaito continue on as if nothing had happened. Baaya was, of course, charmed by the performance and took the flowers with grace and gratitude. 

“Thank you, Kuroba-kun… it’s been so very long since I last saw you, but I don’t believe that we’ve ever been formally introduced.” The older woman smirked, shifting her glance from Kaito to Hakuba, who stumbled behind them, confused. “I am the young master’s governess and caretaker.”

“Baaya,” Hakuba supplied, finally catching up. “Kuroba-kun, this is Baaya. Baaya, Kuroba-kun.”

“Yes, I know. Won’t you come in?”  

The Meaning of the Monocle

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Kaito turned at the voice and found his small content smile grow just a bit more. Hakuba looked … rushed? Was that a red mark on is forehead? The offered hand was new. Tucking the helmet under his arm he reached out to take his hand then at the last minute twisted his wrist and a white rose popped forth. “Thank you for inviting me. Your grounds are amazing.”

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The unexpected turn of events left Hakuba staring at Kaito’s hand, the offered rose, and his own hand just hanging there. What was he supposed to do? He’d never been given a flower before. Was this appropriate? Did he accept it? Was it for him? There was no one else there but Baaya, waiting in the house. The smile faded as Hakuba puzzled over the action, staring, flushed all over again.

White rose, white rose… innocence? What did that imply? 

His gaze travelled from the offering to Kaito’s face, then back down again, so very, very lost and so very suddenly. It had only taken seventeen seconds, give or take a fraction, for all of his good breeding and manners to completely fail him. 

“Ah…” was the only sound that he was able to desperately draw from himself.

“Invite your guest inside, Young Master,” Baaya called from the doorway. “Dinner will be served momentarily.”

Hakuba blinked, looked up at Kaito’s face again, and very slowly lowered his hand in helpless despair. “…Thank you?" 

The Meaning of the Monocle

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The bike purred under him like a large cat. Sleek, black and powerful. The heat from the engine warmed his thighs as he rode on. The manor’s drive was long and, thank the Gods, paved. As he came around to the front he slowed and sat for a minute. He had to admire this place with its elegant style and beautiful grounds. He shifted the bomber’s jacket sleeve up to glance at his watch. Seven minutes to spare. He smiled under the helmet and brought the bike closer and out of the way in case anyone else need to come through. Shutting off its engine he began to pull off the helmet while looking around the front grounds.

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Oh.

Oh. 

Somehow, Hakuba hadn’t known that Kuroba had a motorcycle. Despite all of his research and near-stalking, it hadn’t come up. He found himself staring at the beautiful piece of machinery, letting out a soft breath as the equally beautiful creature dismounted and pulled off his helmet, wild hair waving in the-

“Young Master.” Baaya’s voice came from behind him, startling him from his thoughts. “The door?”

Hakuba blinked at her, eyes wide, fingers fumbling together as he stumbled toward for the knob. “Right! Yes! Of course!” Then he halted, taking a deep breath and reached up to adjust his collar and tie, composing himself.

“A motorcycle… this isn’t your usual type, Young Master…”

The detective glanced at her over his shoulder, lips pinching again, eyes narrowed. “Baaya… I don’t have a ‘usual type,’ if you recall, I haven’t dated in some odd years and this is just my former classmate come to vi-”

“My word, is that Kuroba-kun? He’s grown into quite the handsome young man. Bless me, just look at him.”

Hakuba leaned over to peek out of the side glass again, doing as requested with utter obedience. “…Well. Yes. Yes, he has.” Biting his lip, he looked back at Baaya, suddenly paling at the cheshire grin that greeted him. “….Baaya.”

“Well, go on! Greet your guest, be a good host. You don’t want the Mistress to be disappointed, go go~!”

The older woman pushed at his back and Hakuba, anxious as he was, dug his heels into the marble flooring. Despite the size and weight difference, however, he was no match for his governess, who he thought might have been able to move mountains if so determined. 

Resigned, he straightened up and took another breath before pulling the door open to be wide and inviting, stepping out onto the concrete landing and down the couple of steps to the drive. Right, don’t muck this up…

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He forced the smile that he used for magazines and strode up to him with every bit of confidence that his training could muster, offering a hand to shake. The game was on. “Kuroba-kun! So glad that you could make it!" 

The Meaning of the Monocle

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Kaito’s morning had started nearly the same way except at three when he woke from a traditional nightmare. Unable to do his morning run thanks to the promise he made to Hakuba he had gone down stairs to work on cracking safe locks and some of the more minors move to some of the martial arts he knew. That lasted till eight when his stomach demand food or swallow the lock pick wedge in between his teeth. He made a simple light breakfast of fruit, toast and orange juice and read the morning paper.

After he cleaned his dishes he played with Keena a bit and tried to train Shiori who was still not happy with his nest being moved four days earlier. Even the extra treats and scritches didn’t help. He gave up and allowed the dove to pout about the house.

At ten he got dressed into a pair of jeans and a form fitting shirt. Snagging a jacket he went out for a walk and something to kill time till he got to see Hakuba again. During their time apart he really got to think about what had happened and at night … well he really wish he hadn’t gone celibate. There was a lot pent up and four nights to dream. He had shook his head and ignored those feelings again. Hakuba was becoming a friend, someone he really needed and wanted in his life. He didn’t want to tarnish his image like that.

The Blue Parrot, Jii’s last memento to him was silent and dark. He slipped into the back and unlocked the door. The bar was warm and welcoming even in the dark. There were smells of last night and the blood where he cut his finger with a broken bottle marred the usually spotless floor. He had gotten so lost in his thoughts about Hakuba again for the third day and didn’t pay attention when the slick chilled bottled slipped out of his hand. It had knocked against the counter and when he went to catch it ended up with a hand for of Sapporo and glass. 

Walking over it he moved to the underground cellar where the wines were held. He felt a bit bad for taking one from here but he did own Blue now so maybe he could indulge a bit in that expensive wine the detective always liked. Going with his gut he snagged a bottle of Domaine de Santa Duc. Something Jii had picked up in the UK when he had gone. He had no idea if it was good or not. 

When he got back to his house he had an hour and a half. Back up the stairs he went, showered, stood staring at his closet trying to decide between a dark purple button down with silver pin stripes or a powdered blue plaid button down to go under the dove grey v-necked sweater. He went with the blue one and choose a pair of well worn and well loved jeans that was faded in the perfect stress points. He had rolled up the sleeves to the sweater and shirt, banded his wrists with brown leather and black string, put a strip of leather around his throat and a simple silver sapphire faced watch.

 The last of his attire was a simple dark brown leather jack and a sleek black helmet. He placed the wine in a temperature bag and settled that into a canvas back pack. Wallet and phone vanished into his pockets and his keys were snagged off a hook by the door. Quickly and slightly too excited he mounted his bike and started towards Hakuba manor with a half hour to spare.

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Hakuba ended up pacing between the front door to the kitchen, then to the dining room, and back in a wide arc- impressive for an area where all three were connected by the same small stretch of hallway. Baaya laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder to direct him back down the hallway, asking him to fetch the light blue cloth napkins from the supply closet. 

He nodded, hurrying along down the corridor with anxiety nipping at his heels. Kuroba would be there any moment. Any moment. And here he was, fetching linens! What was wrong with the sage, anyway? Hakuba checked his pocket watch as he walked, pace brisk, then looked at his wristwatch, frowning. Only eight minutes remaining… no, seven… seven minutes, thirty two – thirty one, thirty…

The detective pulled the requested napkins from the closet, lips in a pinched frown of irritation. He had more important things to worry about than this, especially when things had already been perfect! Or had they? He considered, looking down at the cloth in his hands. Was light blue really the way to go? It did go with Kid, perhaps, but perhaps white was better… White and blue? He could mix and match, that way-

No! That would give too much away! He’d been entrusted with the secret, had it confirmed, and he was going to KEEP it a secret until his grave, as he had always planned! Furiously, he stuffed the napkins back in the closet and searched for the taupe ones. That was neutral. That was safe. Did he need to change the tablecloth to match? No; it was white. But was that too much like the thief’s billowing cape? 

Sighing, he leaned his head against the shelf in the closet. As if Baaya would know. As if anyone would put it together. As if anyone would even care– it was a stupid dinner. Dinner and drinks with a friend. It wasn’t a big deal. It was silly. Ridiculous. He didn’t even know if Kuroba were really coming and here he was, debating over napkins! 

Groaning, bumped his head again, hefted another sigh, leaned more of his weight on the shelf in despair. Had he still been a child, he’d have crawled into the closet, burrowed behind the towels, and never come out again. It actually did look like a comfortable spot; just the right size and depth for his younger self. Warm, safe, and hidden. If only he were…

“Young Master… I think your guest is nearly here.”

Hakuba pulled himself away from the closet and looked all the way down the hall, forgetting about the napkins entirely. “O-oh! Be right, ah, be right there!”

Closing the closet doors, he hurried back down the hall, almost breathless by the time he reached the front area, pulling back the little sheer curtains from the glass in the entryway to peer out into the drive. Did he look overeager? Perhaps, but surely Kuroba wouldn’t notice. It was just Baaya’s snickering that made him blush. 

“Shhh! Baaya!” Hakuba hissed, watching.

“Young Master… he won’t be able to hear you from here.

He paused. "J-just… hush!" 

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…