osakandetectivehattori:
whiteknighthakuba:
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.
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!”
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."
