“Wh-what in the…? Was that? No, the voice is… Did Hattori steal..? Bloody hell!"
Tag Archives: themoonlightthief
Love Me
Speaking of roses…
The front step of the Kuroba home seems to have accumulated quite a few. One hundred and forty four, to be precise. Two dozen for each color: red, orange, yellow, white, pink, and lavender, carefully arranged in that order. Sticking up from them is an envelope marked ‘Kuroba K’ on the outside, in English romaji. Inside is a small, silver key and a folded note, which read:
Kuroba-kun-
- Lavender- Interest, Enchantment
- Pink- Gratitude, Appreciation
- White- Innocence, Sympathy
- Yellow- Friendship, Joy
- Orange- Desire, Passion
- Red- Romance, Love
I’m terribly sorry: I couldn’t resist. Please confirm receipt.-White Knight
Since I already had it screenshotted anyway
Have it
nowkiss“Okay~”
“Here and reporting for duty!”
Roses
“You’re very welcome, detective. I’m glad you enjoyed them. All of it.” His own expression softened and he grinned, lightly, gaze flickering back towards Hakuba. It really made him happy and he was quite sure it showed, even through whatever hint of a Poker Face he might have on.
He really hoped the little – or perhaps not so little – dove he’d given the detective had done its job of keeping his nightmares at bay, because god knew Hakuba deserved a restful sleep and nice dreams. The times he did go to sleep, that was.
Sigh.
Thoughts drifting back to the present and the shyly phrased question he’d just been given, Kaitou chuckled, softly, lightly, and smiled. “Perhaps. I did get found out a little earlier than I thought I would, so…”
Letting the sentence trail off, he took a small step closer and leaned down to meet the detective’s gaze. Indigo eyes filled with playfulness and expression one of happy teasing – along with a hint of serious hesitance and curiosity – he continued; “By the way, have you figured out the other messages I sent along with the roses yet?”
“The other messages?” Hakuba considered the question, thinking about the hand-written notes that had arrived, as well as the themes incorporated. He had an idea of what Kaitou might have been referring to, but in his hesitation, pushed it aside. Instead, he went for the second level concept, offering a sheepish smile as he turned back to the thief.
“It would seem that you’re quite concerned about my health, at least. I… didn’t mean to worry you so much, Kaitou-san. Honestly, I try not to let it on to anyone. Really, you’d have to be stalking me to piece it together.”
The detective leaned back on the window bench, head tilted up and to one side as he regarded Kaitou, smile turning smug.
“So what do you have to say for yourself, Kaitou-san? Hmmm?”
A Drunken Waltz [Open]
The thief had no idea how it happened nor could he gather the hazy blur that made up his thoughts and mind right now enough to even try to think about it. It was close to impossible and any other time, that would’ve more than worried him, but, as it was, all he did was shrug, grin, and turn another passerby’s hair rainbow.
Hair color spray was an amazing invention.
Still dressed in that familiar white costume – cape, top hat, monocle and all – Kaitou unsteadily made his way down the street. One hand was placed on the wall of the building beside him for support, because he’d already stumbled more than enough times already and that was just embarrassing for such a, supposedly, graceful, amazing, awesome, sexy, cute, hot—
…Where was he going with that again? He forgot. Oh well. It’d come to him again. Eventually. For now, he just wanted to focus on…
On…
…Oh. Right!
He snapped his fingers and, with a loud, crazy snicker that made the people passing him by raise their brows in confusion and shake their heads – “oh dear, another cosplaying drunkard” – turn abruptly in the direction of the nearest neon sign. Supermarket. Food. He was hungry.
Hopefully, they were still open. It was rather late, after all. When was his heist supposed to start again?
“Ah… Kaitou-san…"
Hakuba glanced over from the brick wall of the supermarket, lowering his cup of coffee with a look of bewilderment. He’d seen many fake Kaitou Kids in his day, but this was either a very good fake or a legitimate Kaito-in-uniform. He squinted.
"You… really shouldn’t be wandering around right now. The police are…”
The height and body type was a perfect match. The cape was real. Actually, the entire ensemble was perfect in every detail. Except that he was drunk. Which, really, could explain a few things. Hakuba pulled himself from the wall and moved to stand in his way, reaching out a hand to steady him if necessary.
“Kaitou-san, is that… you? Are you… are you drunk?"
“Don’t.”
Seeing that oh-so-obviously forced smile on the detective’s face hurt, guilt churning like razors in his gut. This was wrong. On so many levels. He’d never meant to upset Hakuba as much as he had.
Yes, he teased, joked and played around, during heists and outside, and, he supposed, seeing what kind of reaction he could get out of the blonde was something akin to a game to him, but.
But he’d never intentionally play with someone’s feelings or aim to hurt.
“I meant every word I said, though whether you choose to believe them or not is up to you. And I thought that it was obvious that I—” He stopped, the barest hint of uncertainty – and was that nervousness? – flickering across his features, before he smoothly hid it behind his Poker Face, followed by the slightest curl of his lips.
"…Tell me, Hakuba. What do you think everything I’ve done so far have been for? The roses, the little gifts, the notes— why do you think I did that?”
“I have my theories,” Hakuba said, admittance meek at best. “But they don’t seem to withstand scrutiny when other evidence is presented.” He shrugged weakly, keeping his embarrassment and gaze averted, turned away.
“Perhaps you could explain it to me.”
The thief grinned, smoothly and easily perching on the windowsill and giving the window in front of him a few light taps. It didn’t take long for it to swing open and the moment it did, Kaitou leaned forward, grin stretching wider, as planted a gentle peck on the blonde’s lips. “Welcome back, detective~”
“Ah- hey. It’s not like I was gone all that long…” Nevertheless, Hakuba seemed quite pleased with the warm greeting.
“I—” Whatever he’d been about to say died in his throat as the detective’s words rang through his mind and all he could do was stare, surprised and, honestly, shocked speechless by what he’d just heard. Did Hakuba really think—?
A frown settled on the thief’s face, whatever hint of that playful grin and teasing expression that had resided there earlier now completely gone. “While I admit that I did think of this as a game, as just something…fun to do, and something to tease the others about later… Not everything is a game to me, detective.”
Far from it.
“And if I— if this hurt you, somehow, then I do apologize. That wasn’t my intention. Not at all.”
Frown deepening further, indigo eyes turned back to lock onto the blonde, serious. “Stop insulting yourself, Hakuba. You’re a good person. You’re kind, more than clever, hard-working, sweet, cute, stubborn, attractive, and I know that so many people would count themselves lucky if you even so much as sneezed their way.”
“I know I would.”
It hurt to hear those things from him. Every one of them kind and desperately needed; like kibble for a starving dog. Each one stabbing at a twisted gut but unwilling to stop lapping at what was offered.
“You’re very clever with your words, Kaitou-san, and they serve you well. But silver tongued as I am, myself, I’m having a difficult time believing it. Surely you know that you could have me if you wanted me.”
A sigh.
“…who am I kidding? I’ve no right to be upset. My apologies, Kaitou-san. I didn’t mean to ruin your activity.” He forced a smile, but it was pathetic.
“…I’ll wish you luck on figuring that out.” Yeahno calm composure gone. So much for giving another demonstration.A pause. And then a light, amused, and slightly curious grin. “…Are you jealous, detective?”
Was he jealous? Yes, of course. That had been the reason he’d agreed to the ridiculous game in the first place. But now he wondered if he had any right to be jealous or in so much agony about it. Should he shrug and make excuses as if it didn’t matter to him? No.
“What do you think, Kaitou-san? What good would admitting to being jealous do? No matter what I say or do, it’s never going to be enough. I know I’m not the best detective. I’m not the most clever, like Kudou-san. I’m not the strongest, like Hattori-san. Hell, I’m not even as attractive as either of them. What have I got in my favor? Nothing.
"And no, I’m not aggressive like some others, either. Honestly, why should you even want a detective? Especially if all we’re capable of is blindly arresting supposed criminals without even taking into account any motive or justification.
"This is probably just a game to you like everything else. And I, for one, am done playing."
Roses
Kaitou stiffened, fingers twitching and hand lifting just the slightest of an inch, as if about to reach out and grab the detective, to keep him from falling. But, upon noting that he was alright, he hid the movement with a casual shrug of his shoulders and a lighthearted, amused snicker.
He hadn’t quite expected Hakuba to get that startled.
“I might tend to pass by from time to time,” the thief answered, lips tugging into a smile as he moved closer – past the bed and across the carpet, stopping only when he was less than a foot away from the blonde. His smile stretched wider. “I see you’ve been taking good care of them.”
He tilted his head, briefly motioning towards the vase or, more specifically, the roses it was holding. “Did you like them?”
Where the detective had faltered, the thief picked up the slack. Kid’s unending confidence garnered an appreciative smirk as the Hakuba gradually relaxed, hands pressed against the bench on either side of him. For once, Hakuba looked up at the thief instead of the other way around.
With a turn of his head, Hakuba glanced to the vase, expression immediately softening. “Ah… yes, I did. I do. Love them, I mean. Very, very much so. Thank you, Kaitou-san.” The confession came with an embarrassed laugh; soft, short, shoulder shrugging. “The, ah, other gifts, too… God, I was hoping that it was you. For a number of reasons."
The dove still sat nestled in the detective’s pillows. The dragon now had a place on the fireplace mantle, next to the clock. Each of the hand-written notes had been safely stowed in his personal journal and lock-box.
"If I could ask… were… were you planning to go for a full dozen?”