(Untitled)

[theotherknight]

Muscles shaking - lactic acid buildup - steps slower than they should be... blood dried on his cheek from a shallow cut, stinging every time he winces from other pains. He supresses a hiss between his teeth as he steps slightly wrong on his ankle - mild sprain - and catches himself on a wall with his free hand, the other tucked against his chest -

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[just_add_aptx]

Shinichi pauses to consider the detective (Hakuba, wasn't it? He couldn't remember). The way he's holding himself makes it obvious he's more injured than just the gashed cheek, the wrist held close. 1412? Maybe. The assassin seemed to go for the wrist.

He stares up at the Brit, considering. "A run-in with 1412?"

[theotherknight]

He didn't hear him approach, and that in itself is an indicator of how tired he is. Hakuba looks down, startled, then wary, then, emotions shunted to one side, giving a polite if weary smile to the young boy. Too sharp for a child, though... if he knew of 1412, then he'd have reason to be.

"Yes. He decided he needed a partner to play tag."

A slight pause, regarding Conan, but Hakuba is too weary for the follow-up question he'd normally ask, so he stays quiet, limp exhaustion etched in every line of his posture.

[just_add_aptx]

"What kind of idiot plays tag with a psychopath?"

His own wrist (the left one) is still in its brace from the aftermath of his encounter with 1412, even though it wasn't broken. He just hadn't had the chance to return it to the infirmary yet. There were other signs of injury too, far less visible. Bandages wrapped around his upper right arm, hidden underneath his long-sleeved shirt. Shallow breathing, ignoring the pain from cracked ribs.

"Just don't run and he'll give up soon enough."

[theotherknight]

"The kind of idiot," says Hakuba with slow deliberation, "who has refused to play before, and it has led to 1412 becoming bored." The way he says 'bored' has ominous overtones - as well it should. The last time 1412 was bored was because he had been thwarted fomr his target, Hakuba would not play tag with him.... and so he involved the enitre task force in a lethal game that culminated with his target dying despite their best efforts.

"And I do beg to differ. If he has a contact on you, he does not simply 'give up soon enough'." His tone is too scathing to be talking to a child, even one as vaguely familiar as this one, but Hakuba simply cannot bring himself to care.

[deaduction]

Infirmary, you say?

The last time Shinichi dropped by the dining room, a box of lightbulbs had been placed unobtrusively between the eclairs and the cheeseboard. The ghost had taken it as a hint.

Currently he was replacing the lightbulbs he'd blown in the medical room while helping his counterpart and talking with Ran. The task required him to be solid, so the ghost was clearly visible as he balanced on a chair, still in his funerary suit.

[theotherknight]

It takes Hakuba far too long to actually reach the medical room, and when he does, his entrance is more of a stumble, uninjured hand gripping the doorknob in a white-knuckled grip.

He coughs weakly once or twice, breathing heavy before he actually looks up to survey the room. He doesn't register Kudo in his first sweep, but does at a second glance, sagging a little as he recognises the detective.

It's not 1412, and really, that's all that matters at the moment.

"Kudo-san." Voice tired, footsteps dragging as he half-stumbles over to the nearest table, counter, whatever, sagging against it in pure exhaustion.

[deaduction]

The lightbulb flickers with Shinichi's surprise, but the ghost has enough energy that that is all they do. Hakuba -- and from his exhaustion and the way he moves, jerky and sore, the ghost has a fairly good idea of which Hakuba and what he's been doing.

"Hakuba," he says returning the greeting as he jumps down from the chair. "Tag, was it? What do you need?"

[theotherknight]

"Excellent deduction," he manages, tone wry under the exhaustion, gaze flicking to Kudo, then falling quiet as he forces his brain to think about what medical supplies he needs.

"Painkillers. Wrist and ankle brace... bandages. Lots of bandages." The words come out choppy and broken down to the bare essentials. He makes the attempt to straighten up, catches his wrist on the counter and subsides with a hiss of pain.

Have been debating forever whether to through him at this guy

[stainedmoonlit]

Kaito spots Hakuba in the hallway and pauses when he sees the state the detective is in. He doesn't hesitate to go over to him but doesn't move as quickly as he did with that other Aoko. He doesn't really like Hakuba much but he's still a classmate and Kaito does respect him as a detective even if he is obsessed with Kid and had a stick up his ass.

It also worried him a bit that this is the second person with a broken wrist he'd encountered. "What the hell happened to you?"

<3~

[theotherknight]

"A run-in with 1412," is the sour answer, Hakuba not even bothering to look at the person in front of him. After a moment, though, manners win out over his tiredness, and he shifts to apolgise, flatering as he sees the perosn in front of him.

"Kud--"

No, wait. The expression is wrong, the hairstyle different, and other minor differences. This isn't Kudo.

"Who are you?"
[ooc: and now I must flee ;; will be tagging this evening]

[stainedmoonlit]

"Kuroba Kaito." He answered, narrowing his eyes. This was definitely not his Hakuba, which made feel a bit relieved though he'd never admit it out loud. Still it was a Hakuba and he was hurt. He walked over and silently offered to give him a hand.

"Wait, 1412?" He asked, a little confused. "Isn't that the Kaitou Kid's Interpol designation?"

He didn't like the sound of that. Since he now knew that this place contained versions of people from other worlds, that made it a definite possibility this was another him. Kid made it a rule not to hurt people, particularly not the detectives who chased him. Dove on the other hand... Well he'd never hurt anyone who wasn't a target unless they were in his way.

[theotherknight]

Hakuba regards him for a moment, the niggle of memeory still twitching at the corner of his mind, even though he's ruled out Kudo. He's seen that face somewhere before.

"Apparantly it is," he answers, taking the proffered hand and being careful to not put any weight on his injured ankle as he regains his feet. "But the Kaitou Kid does not exist in my world. There's only 1412."

Once he's on his feet properly, he straightens his jacket minutely, a brief nod of thanks that turns into a wince as his neck protests.

"My name is Hakuba Saguru."