Chapter Text
On precisely nine hours, zero minutes and zero seconds into a fine Saturday morning, Hakuba Saguru woke up to the sound of thunderous snoring and burning plastic.
And his pocket watch was gone, that was the biggest issue.
Then he looked out of the window, and discovered that he severely underestimated the amount of shit that went down late night. There was, god forbid, a cardboard flamingo floating in the pond, and even Watson looked down on the carnage in disgust. As for the burning plastic, it was obvious where it came from. There was plastic dolls that Baaya had bought for him when he was what? Six? Sizzling happily on the (very expensive, mind you) barbecue.
Considering it lucky that most of his stuff was intact, he rubbed his head, before realising that something was really off.
He couldn't, for the life of him, remember what had caused this incident.
"Oh no." Hakuba groaned. The only time that he forgot what went down last night was when he was in England, and accidentally drank beer. He swore to never repeat what happened that night ever again, so why is he here, rethinking his life decisions, while the chainsaw-like snoring acted like background noise?
Still, he placed that at the back of his head as he opened his phone to check if anyone had any idea what was going on. Logging on to his social media, Hakuba clenched his fist as he looked at the newest update. A picture of him and Hattori was right there for all of the public to view, and true enough, he has a missed call from his father.
He's screwed.
The only one that has the capability to hack into his account is Kuroba Kaito, or also known as Kaitou KID. Hakuba dialled his number, not even surprised when the call wasn't picked up. That gremlin was probably hiding at Nakamori-chan's place, laughing his butt off. To show just how pissed he was, Hakuba rang Kuroba's number almost twenty times, and left some voice messages on how exactly he was going to flay Kuroba-kun alive when he sees him.
Finally getting irritated by the thunderous snoring, Hakuba make his way downstairs. On the couch, there was Hattori Heiji, passed out in all his dark-skinned glory. Hakuba felt light-headed, and gripped the wall to steady himself.
He can handle seeing him and Hattori, who he considered to be too reckless and hotheaded, kissing. But what has he done in his past life to offend the gods into having the Osaka detective in his home, and who he presume, was also responsible for at least 80% of the crazy shit that he has seen today.
Suddenly, the door opened and Baaya walked in, greeting Hakuba and casting a glance at Hattori. “Was it good?” She asked nonchalantly, before setting down a bag of groceries and turning on the stove.
It took Hakuba a few seconds to realised what she meant. “Baaya!” Hakuba spluttered. “I will never sleep with the likes of him!” Baaya just hummed in acknowledgment, flipping eggs on a pan.
Presumably woken up by the smell, Hattori woke up with a yawn. “Oh hello, Hakuba. Did we kiss yesterday? I forgot.”
Hakuba resisted the urge to punch the detective in the face. Instead, he gestured to the carnage outside, watching as Hattori’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh fuck, do I have to pay for the grill.”
“Yes. But I’ll consider reducing your debt if you can clean up my yard as much as you can.”
Hattori stood up and ran outside as fast as lightning, and Hakuba watched, satisfied. With that freeloader outside cleaning up the mess, Hakuba picked up his phone, dialing Kaito’s number. Unbelievably, he actually picked up. “Moshi Moshi? Kuroba Kaito her-” Not waiting for him to finish, Hakuba conveyed as much murderous intent into his tone. “Kuroba-kun, may I ask just WHY there is a photo of me kissing Hattori on my social media?”
On the other side, Hakuba could here a bit of thumping and was surprised when Kuroba shouted something like ‘Meitantei’ before the that gremlin hung up on him. Hakuba took a deep breath, before turning towards the kitchen and contemplated which knife is best for skinning someone alive.
Baaya served up plates of food just as Hattori burst in with the pink flamingo and disturbingly, the half-melted dolls. Baaya, bless her, asked no questions, just produced a large bag for Hattori to dump all his trash in. Hattori sat down next to Hakuba, who glared at him.
If looks could kill, Hattori would already have been sent to the deepest and darkest part of hell.
Baaya cleared her throat awkwardly to diffuse the tension. “So, Hattori-Kun, do you mind sharing with us what happened last night?”