Tag Archives: thread

by

City Jaunt!

haruspoops:

image

          Akira jerked away from Hakuba’s touch, though to her vision it was not her best friend who was reaching out sympathetically, but a gray blur of fear and death and grief sent to take her, to take her back to the nothingness, to when she was everything and nothing at once, unable to speak and yet able to see all.

          Tears streamed down her face, and she felt bile in the back of her throat and so help her God if whatever jammed in her throat didn’t get out in two seconds- but of course, no nurse appeared in the split second it took for Akira to vomit into her breathing tube and that was a bad fucking idea Akira because now you can’t breathe hardly at all and you’re breathing vomit and you might die because of this after surviving a car crash that put you in a fucking coma. 

                                                                        [HELP. HELP!]

The teenager steeled himself, making the split second decision to go full on detective mode. He’d had limited field medical training, he could handle this. He chased down and fought criminals for God’s sakes; he could do this. With one second to take a deep breath, Hakuba put himself to work, reaching down to pry the breathing tube from her. Thank god he’d read about it before and had seen other nurses complete the procedure, so he had a general idea of how it was done. 

It was messy work, though, and while Hakuba cared very much more for Akira’s life, he couldn’t help but worry that there would be more trouble from the resultant liquids. Still, he got it out, tossed it aside, reached for her arm and her back and rolled her onto her side so that it wouldn’t all end up back in her lungs. “Cough, Akira-kun… go ahead, cough it out, get it all out on the mattress, it’s fine, you’re fine." 

Arms trembling, he thumped her back, trying to ignore all of the warning sounds from the various machinery in the room. Surely, a nurse was on her way. Surely, someone would come and help. He prayed as he desperately tried to help her that he was doing what he should have done. Urging her, staying close, ready to find something to suction out her lungs if he had to and god knows he would. 

by

Waiting Pleasantries

patientxpetals:

image

   ”I guess th’ fact they they c’n self-seed and their speed in growth makes ‘em seem a little pest-like, especially when they start t’ smother other plants. I think they’re cute.” She would have been more than happy to plant a few in her garden, but taking time away from home meant she would likely return to nothing but Morning Glories.

   Something that felt a little like pride swelled in her chest when he decided to contribute to the conversation. It felt nice to be listened to, but it was even better knowing the person she spoke to had something to say — not to mention he was handsome, and his laugh was incredibly adorable.

   ”Hmm?” Focus, “Oh! Uh, I’ve only been workin’ with flowers for about three years. I practically begged fer th’ job after I moved t’ California by m’self. Ma was never…
                                               She thought it wasn’t a good job.”

   Madison shook her head and urged the smile to return to her face, “What about you? You’re a detective! I know ya said it’s a lot of paper work, but I’ve always wondered what it would be like. I mean, it’s probably nothin’ like what they show on TV, right?”

“I suppose the morning glories are best left on abandoned castles, hm? There’s a manor in Lyon that I visit from time to time; crumbling walls, rotting wood, climbing ivy… and god, so many morning glories. They’re beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

He rocked back and forth on his heels as he considered a segue, pulling himself from the day dream. “Good job or not,” he looked at her again with a reassuring smile. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re doing what you’re passionate about. That’s far more important than money or social stigma, anyway. It’s the way to find true joy, or so I’m told.

"Really, rather like detective work. Sometimes it’s as the telly shows, yes… There are chases, exciting criminal cases, injuries, time spent in laboratories, speaking to blood splatter experts… But most really is paperwork. Alas, anything we detectives do must be documented if we’re to use it in court. It’d be far too easy to fake otherwise. But, fortunately…”

Hakuba leaned in closer to her then, raising a brow with mischievous interest, smirk going crooked on his face. “I’m rather fond of the smell and texture of paper, and love to examine ink and typed writing for mistakes… cross-referencing data, determining legitimacy. You can learn so much about people that way, and since paperwork isn’t as standard across the board as one might think, there are plenty of rooms for error, all of which lead to… well, curious things. Which I love.”

by

✺

kuroba-k:

It had been a nice and quiet Saturday and Kaito had spent his day home, doing chores that needed doing and working a little on KID’s stuff in the basement. In the evening he had started watching TV and fell asleep somewhere towards the end of a late film. So when he heared knocking, he needed a moment to figure out that he had been sprawled out on the couch and not his bed. Judging by the darkness, though, safe from the flickering light of the TV, it was still night or very early morning…

The thief knew he hadn’t imagined the knocking, his sleep was very light and he was alert to everything not natural in his surrounding. Yawning he sat up and rubbed his face awake, finishing with a good ruffle through his hair before getting up and walking to the door soundlessly. He didn’t bother to turn on any lights, since he knew the way and the faint light from the TV was more than enough. It also gave him a better chance to see the other side of the door through the spy since it was only the street lights outside.
Surprised even more, when he realised who’s tall shape he saw, he opened the door. He was aware that he wore crinkly jogging trousers and a most likely just as much rumpled shirt. But seeing as it was the middle of the night, he judged it appropriate.

“Hakuba-kun, everything allright?” For a short moment an icey shot of worry slipped down his spine, what if something happened to his mother? – But then… it would have been Nakamori or another official, not a privat investigator at his door. Behind his pokerface that had also slid in place, he relaxed a little again. Although, now he allowed a frown to show and observed the detective. “What’s the matter?”

“I beg your pardon for the intrusion, Kuroba-kun,” Hakuba began, breathless and harried. “There’s been a little mixup and… well, quite frankly, I need a place to stay for the night. I know we’re not exactly on good terms, but…" 

The detective glanced back over his shoulder to the street, which was mostly dark, and shivered, turning back to Kaito after a few seconds. His clothing was dirty, both blood stained in sections and burnt in others. Rumpled. Torn here and there. Soot smeared his face, though it looked like he’d already tried to clean it up with a handkerchief.

”…Please, may I hide here? Just until Baaya calls for me.“

by

||Dorm Room Disaster||AU: Collage||@Hakuba||

britishhsdetectivehakuba:

[αяє уσυ ѕℓєєριηg, αяє уσυ ѕℓєєριηg]

image

The dorm had been split into two parts, Sugaru tasking the half that the door wasn’t on, that way no one would intrude in his area, and using sheets strewn from one side to the other to let people know they were not welcome. He laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, waiting for his brother to return. He closed his eyes, wishing for sleep to take him, he had studying and cleaning to do tomorrow, but it just wouldn’t come.

This was a regular routine.

He didn’t know whose brilliant idea it was to stick the twin brothers in a dorm room together, bloody hell it had been years since they’d shared a room together at home. He had been hoping to get a room all to himself, because of his mysophobia, and instead got stuck with his brother, Saguru. They just weren’t as close as they used to be

[вяσтнєя נσнη, вяσтнєя נσнη?]

image

This happened often, Saguru would stay out late, either drinking or fornicating with some stranger or classmate, and sneak back into the room for a few hours of sleep. It made his heart beat rapidly in his chest, and every night he came home late, he would stay up, unable to sleep; waiting. Just laying in bed, listening for the tell tale sounds of the door clicking open, of soft feet against the floor.

What if he didn’t come back?

What if he got into an accident, or someone had hurt him? These thoughts always ran through his head as he lay there waiting, waiting for his brother to hopefully return from what ever stunt he was off pulling. Sometimes Saguru would be gone all night, and Sugaru wouldn’t get any sleep those nights, and frantically – though inwardly – search for the other. And then he’s lecture him. About how if he was going to stay out all night he should bloody well tell him so he could lock the door.

It had been one of those long and exhausting nights where trying to find a quiet place to go over his casefiles – none of which he wanted his overly paranoid brother to be privy to – had turned into some sort of insane adventure. Yes, he’d flirted with the girl at the coffee shop, and yes, they’d almost slept together, but it wasn’t as if he’d known that she had loan sharks after her, or that she was just trying to get access to his wallet. 

Honestly, since getting to university, things had just gotten worse for the more social of the two Hakuba children. He didn’t have time to go to all of the high society parties that he used to, and that pressure never stopped building. It left Saguru riled, aggressive, and incredibly frustrated. It wasn’t even so much the sex as it was that feeling of being used, which he recognized as being incredibly unhealthy, but what was he to do? The alcohol wasn’t healthy, either, but he couldn’t seem to sleep anymore without a nightcap, and he had to sleep. Just like he had to take people part in cases, and how he had to win others over in bed. 

Anyway, all of his evening’s plans had been ruined, as well as his suit jacket from the ridiculous chase through the streets. At least it wasn’t riddled with bullet holes, which very well could have been the outcome of the confrontation with the gang, who demanded the money or the barista’s life, neither of which Saguru was willing to give. In the end, once the criminals had been corralled and arrested, the girl had given him her number on a slip of paper. Lucky him.

He tore up and threw into the waste basket once he dragged himself into the bedroom that he shared with his twin, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly before turning back to lock the door. There were only four hours before he needed to be up for classes, and he still hadn’t finished his essay. Nevermind, though. He would simply explain the situation to the professor, leaving out a few choice details, and get an extension. That’s how it worked for celebrities, wasn’t it? 

Although he’d never had to pull that card so often before, Saguru had to admit that university was kicking his ass, and the lifestyle he lead was difficult, at best, to maintain in good circumstances, much less in an intense academic setting. He poured himself a brandy as he got undressed, leaving the lights off, and downed the shot without even a thought for the burn. God, he was tired. 

Tossing his tie to the floor, he flopped down face-first onto his bed and gave a sigh at the comforting feeling of those cool pillows against his face. Dirt, blood, dried sweat… Sugaru would have a conniption if he knew, he was certain, but he didn’t care. He just needed to sleep. Just for a few hours… 

by

Terminal Affirmation

smokebombsandmirrors:

He laughed lightly through his nose and dug his nails into his palms to keep him from wrapping his arms around him. “I hope its not just for your duty that you’ll return.”

With another laugh, one that wasn’t really convincing at all, Hakuba shook his head. “No, of course not… it’s just the most appropriate thing I can mention in public.” Yes, he’d meant it like that, but he hoped that no one else in the immediate area would realize it. 

In an attempt to keep the tone a little lighter, he hoped, Hakuba shouldered the bag and reached for the carrier, smirking. “I suppose I ought to run, though… much as I’d like to miss the flight, my Mum’s retribution aside…”

by

The Neighborhood Watch

haunted-haibara:

Some would’ve thought that letting someone she’s just met unusual, but something about the detective made her trust him. Besides, she wanted to figure out why he looked so familiar.

“Oh it’s alright, Hakase is probably in his lab” after yelling at him and taking away his food, he’d probably want to stay out of her sight for now.

“Then yes, please, I’d love some. Lead the way, Haibara-chan, if you please." 

It was always nice to spend time with other halfers, as they were called, particularly when they were so similarly matched. Not that Hakuba would have called attention to this fact, but he did feel fairly comfortable with the girl. There was something familiar about her to the detective, too, though he assumed it was simply that British side of them both.

by

Bloody Moriarty

thelotusflowerfiles:

Jon laughed deeply and loud. “I’m good with either. The kid and I” as he spoke he clapped a hand on to Shinichi shoulder. “have this deal that when ever he speaks to me it’ll be in English since he doesn’t get to use it that often here in Japan.” He stooped down and extended out a hand for Twig to sniff. “But none of that pertains to you and I’d have to say that your not from here, are you?”

image

“Jon was a documentarist’s photographer for avian research across Europe and the middle east. ” Shinichi explained and rotated his shoulder some. 

“No, certainly not,” Hakuba said to Jon at first, watching their interactions, and then that of Jon and Twig. “I’m from England, actually, ah… oh, avian research?" 

Twig’s tail stopped wagging while she sniffed Jon’s hand, but then let it continue once she was sure that he was safe. She gave him a lick, then sat down with a huff, ears falling back so that she could look up at Hakuba with a little doggy groan. 

The blond then shook his head, realizing that he’d answered in Japanese, and switched to English immediately, flushed. Old habits. ”Right, then. Avians. Any particular bird?“ 

Birds were a very comfortable topic. Safe. Familiar. 

by

Terminal Affirmation

smokebombsandmirrors:

He looked to the attendant and sighed. Looking down to Hakuba he smiled at him. “Hey, don’t worry its just for a few months, right? It’ll fly by and we’ll keep in constant touch. This isn’t …….” He choked on goodbye. Mostly because he knew that it may as well could be. Hakuba was handsome and going back to a country he loved and that loved him. It was very easily possible that a few weeks in he could get a phone call saying ‘I’m sorry for the fling it was fun but I’ve found someone new. Enjoy your life, Kuroba.’
He felt himself pale and shook his head. 

Stay positive, Kaito.

“Right, that’s right,” Hakuba said, though his thoughts were much along the same lines. Kuroba was quite the catch in his own right, but more than that, being KID presented its own set of unique possibilities. It wouldn’t even be out of the realm of possibility for Kaito to die in the short time that he’d be gone, and if he really settled on Oxford, well..

The detective bit his lower lip again, attempting to avoid letting pain flicker on his face while the thought lingered. No, Kuroba was careful. He was very good at what he did. There was no reason to believe that he would meet such a terrible end while he was gone. 

Unconvinced and anxious, he shuffled to his feet and looked down at him with a forced smile. “I’ll be back before you know it, Kuroba-kun. I can’t let you go long without pestering you, you know that. Detective’s duty and all that.” Hakuba laughed, and reached reluctantly for his bag.

by

Catching Up With Fate

kuroba-k:

At first Kaito simply listened, watching Hakuba’s face while doing so and letting his hands rest on the injured leg, one slightly below the knee, the other a little off the scar. He clearly registered the anxiousness his patient was showing and together with the words started forming a hypothesis.
“Mhh”, he answered noncommitally at first, more to let Hakuba know that he’d heard. Then he focussed on the brown eyes before him. “It is more pain than I would have expected from what I’ve seen on your file and on your skin. But Hakuba-san, there is no norm you’re supposed to meet. There is no exact manual for a human body, each and everyone is different and reactions can vary. You’re not bound to feel anything but what your body tells you.” He took another short look at the leg and then leaned back, removing his hands to lean back a little.

“Let me humour you with some of my thoughts,” he began. “This incident has clearly shaken you up, as it would anybody and the person I’ve got to know in you is someone who prefers to have some control over himself and the situation around him. Injuries like this one though are things we can’t control by our will. They happen suddenly and then they’re there, confining you to medical attention where you are dependant, limiting your movement against your will. They force you to change your life around them.
"It is frustrating and sometimes it feels like you’ll never get anywhere, because no one will have the guts to assert you that it will be alright again, preferrably even give you a date for your full recovery. I assume you’ve always given your hardest and probably already experienced how it feels like when you push too hard. I daresay you pushed it too far more than just once and remember very clearly that it had hurt and felt like you were walking backwards within your recovery.
"I can see that you’re anxious, Hakuba-san. I guess you fear to fall or already have fallen behind on some given recovery schedule or that your case just won’t get any better. That I might say that there’s nothing I can do.”

Taking a short break, Kaito got up to remove a bottle from a shelf and sat back down with it.

“There is no schedule and you haven’t fallen behind anything. You are exactly where you are supposed to be. I ain’t going to tell you that I’ll stop before I even tried. I see no reason not to work with you.
 It’s not bad if it hurts, because we are going to do something against it. And pain is not an enemy, pain is just one way of your body talking to you.
"I have changed my mind about testing the hell out of you today. What I’m planning now is having you relax for the ten minutes we have left, while I’m giving your scar a little massage helping it keep recover so well. What do you say?”

Although he really didn’t want to, Hakuba let the fear show in his eyes as he listened to Kaito speak, practically hanging on every word while holding his breath. Gradually, his cheeks colored with embarrassment and he let his gaze drop down to his leg again, head hanging in shame, guilt, and growing anxiety.

Kaito was right. Of course he was right. He hated feeling so weak and useless. He hated not being able to work, that he couldn’t get around without considerable time and effort, and that it hurt so god damned much all the time. He’d followed doctors’ and therapists’ orders to the letter, but had pushed himself harder than was probably necessary. 

Was it over, then? Was he ruined? He wondered, fretting as Kaito walked away from him, chewing on his lower lip. How was he supposed to take care of Akira if he couldn’t even walk properly? 

Gulping, he reached for the pocket watch that he kept, running fingers over the engraved surface while he waited for Kaito to return, dreading the worst. What he said, though, surprised him, and Hakuba looked back up with a single spark of hope in his otherwise troubled face. 

“Ah…” He stammered, blinking, and gave a small, submissive nod. “All right, then… yes, I think that’d be fine. Thank you.”

He was no less embarrassed, but the relief he felt was palpable. Honestly, if he could get out of the office without having to admit his failings out loud, and without much more pain, the detective would be satisfied to go home and ignore the world for the rest of the day. 

by

Terminal Affirmation

smokebombsandmirrors:

Kaito couldn’t quite catch the hopeful and distraught expression before it lanced across his face but as soon as to was there it was gone again replaced by a sheepish smile.

“Your mother would kill you and me then hide our bodies somewhere in the moors of England." 
He stood and placed his hands into his pockets to keep himself from reaching out and snagging the detective sleeve to keep him there.

"I… suppose that you’re right,” Hakuba said with a sigh, not even able to muster up enough cheer to chuckle at the joke. Pouting, he looked down at Watson’s carrier, then leaned back in his seat again.

“…though I think that she’d just have our bodies chopped up for the birds. Or burned. I don’t know. Donated to science… red cross…” He glanced at him, not turning his head. “She’d find a way to have our deaths benefit others, I’m certain, but it wouldn’t be at all pleasant for us, surely." 

He looked at his watch again, then winced, closing his eyes as the expected voice came over the speaker to announce boarding for his flight. While the woman spoke, tones polite and cheerful, Hakuba remained rigid, head hanging, and only looked up when she was finished. 

Bloody hell…