Hakuba’s gloved knuckles wrapped against the door. It made a hallow knocking sound, at least to his own ears. It hadn’t been that loud either, he was hesitant, standing there with his fist hovering inches from the door for what felt like hours, but had probably only been minuets. His mother had come to town to visit, and he’d been happy about that, he missed his mother.
What he didn’t miss was the fighting.
He let his hand fall to his side, his other rising to ball into a fist in his suit sleeve. When his mother came to Japan, which wasn’t very often, or his father came to London – which was even less – his parents tried not to fight in front of him. They know how it made him feel. He knew they were never going to get back together, and he never acted otherwise, he never tried to make them love each other again.
That didn’t make it hurt any less.
The yelling had gotten loud, so loud he could hear it in his bedroom, his safe place; the place where nothing was supposed to touch him. He’d tried going for a walk in the garden, but the sound of doors slamming and shouts had drawn him away from the house, and towards the house of his classmate.
Normally when he got anxious like this, his mysophobia would get worse and he’d spend a few hours washing his hands, and then a few more in the shower. But for some reason today was the opposite. Instead of wanting to hide from the world, from everything; he wanted to be touched. He wanted to be held, for someone to hold his shaking body as he cried. He wanted to be weak, just for a few moments.
He was pulled from his thoughts as the door before him opened. He took a step back, a little bit surprised, and he could already feel his shoulder starting to shake, the tears welling up in his eyes. He let his head fall forward, the deerstalker casting a shadow over his face as he waited for the other to speak.
Hakuba didn’t look up when the door was opened. He kept his hat pulled down to shadow his face. He could already feel some tears starting to roll down his cheek and he instinctively reached up a hand to wipe the tears away, but he paused when bare skin meet his cheek. He looked down at his hands in shock as he realized he’d left home without putting on his gloves.
He clenched his hand into a fist as it started to shake. He looked up, only to notice that Kaito had stepped aside, and he quietly stepped in past the threshold. He looked back down once he was inside and he slipped his shoes off, setting them to the side, making sure they were straight and out of the way. This was harder to do with his feet, but he couldn’t reach down and adjust them by hand.
He couldn’t muster up the strength to laugh at the others jab, it would have probably come out as a sob anyways. He didn’t want the other to know that he was crying, or so close to just breaking down. The lack of gloves wasn’t helping him any either. How could he have been so stupid as to forget his gloves when he left the house? He could feel the urge to wash his hands – who knew what he had come into contact with on the way here – starting to rise, but he pushed it away.
He let out a shuddering breath, standing at the house entrance a little bit awkwardly. He didn’t know what to do now. He was here, he’d walked from his own house to Kuroba’s, and was now inside, but he just couldn’t get his head on straight. It wasn’t like he could just ask the other to touch him. This wasn’t England, where one went around hugging and cuddling acquaintances. Two men just didn’t sit on a couch and embrace each other.
He was starting to realize just how bad idea this was, and his composer was starting to crack. His helplessness, his inability to control the events unfolding before were wearing him down. His shoulders shook and finally a sound, a heartbreaking sob, escaped his tightly closed lips and his hands flew to his face to try and stop the stream of tears that were now running down his cheeks.
So much for familiar territory.
“O-Oi!”
Kaito stared at the detective, shock and concern clearly seen on his face as his arms reflexively rose up to try and do something. Only, he wasn’t sure what. Hakuba had never acted like this before…
After a moment of indecision, he sighed and put an arm on the detective’s back, kicking the door closed behind him as he led the other into the living room. He may not know exactly why Hakuba was here, but it was clear he would be staying a while. The magician wasn’t going to let him leave with him as he was.
“Ok, I know have said I wouldn’t ask, and I won’t if you don’t feel like telling me now… but I’ll definitely want an explanation at some point, got it?”
Moonlight Archive 