The perfect way to describe walking into Kaito’s bedroom was: organized chaos. An old desk was shoved into the right corner and was covered in files, research books, a sleek black desktop, a thin silver laptop, jars filled with gears, tiny screws, tiny rods and other miscellaneous hard wear, tools, gloves, decks of cards of different types, styles and sizes, and the occasional piece of jewlery.
Next to the desk was the bed or what was supposed to be a bed it was more like a mound of pillow and blankets that was pushed up against under the open window. At the foot of the bed was an open burgundy trunk filled with props, more files, books, more gloves, more tools. A tall full length mirror was shoved into the corner behind crates and boxes. A dresser and tall standing floor lamp was pushed up against the left wall by the door. Posters and picture littered the walls in a strange collage of his favorite bands and his life.
A full portrait of Kuroba Toichi marked the only thing on the left wall.
Shiori chirped loudly from the ceiling fan and watched Hakuba intently.
It was fascinating. Every inch Kuroba Kaito. Hakuba wanted to take his time exploring it, touching and studying, really learning who Kaito was… but it was becoming very late. He glanced at his pocket watch, then wrist watch, and gave a small moan. It was almost five in the morning; no wonder he was so exhausted.
He went to the blanket nest and pulled two pillows from the pile, along with a larger blanket near the top, dragging it backward to get it out from the tangled mess. The bird call got his attention, though, and Hakuba glanced up to offer a nod in greeting. “Hullo, there… don’t mind me; just borrowing some beddage for your master.”
Gathering it all up in his arms, he made his way back toward the hallway, hoping that Shiori wasn’t as pillow hungry as he’d been led to believe…