Chapter Text
Poe, for the smart man he knows he is, probably should have pondered a tad bit more about what inviting someone to his house might entail. Namely, them actually seeing your house. Your personal house, with all your belongings and aesthetic decisions and your ability to care for yourself and your neatness and- Oh, God forbid, your personal bedroom.
Usually, Poe wouldn’t mind nearly as much; sure, he’d be slightly uncomfortable, but not buzzing with anxiety and excitement. But it’s not just someone, his mind kindly supplies- It’s Ranpo. It’s different.
That’s how he found himself in his current predicament; standing, unmoving in the middle of his kitchen, after he cleaned for the past hour, scanning every crevice of his house down, trying to find the tiniest thing that needs fixing, while waiting for the detective, who’s already said he’s on his way. Oh God.
Get a hold of yourself, he probably doesn’t even care what your house looks like.
Poe really doesn’t know why it matters to him this much, but it does. So, he takes the broom and sweeps the living room once more, just to be sure.
Soon enough, the doorbell ring slowly sounds, once, twice, indicating his guest is already here.
Poe takes a deep breath, looking at Karl who’s lying peacefully on the couch in search of comfort. The raccoon doesn’t stir, but the sight of him looking so relaxed and happy helps calm the writer down a bit, a soft smile forming on his face, and his heart tugging in his chest at the cute sight.
He walks towards the doorway, opening it, just slightly so Ranpo could see him, in a gesture of hospitality, a smile still on his face, timid, but excited. “Hello, Ranpo,” he greets.
Ranpo looks up at him, and Poe sees his eyes slowly shift above his head, trying to get a peek at the inside. Understanding the hint, he steps aside, holding the door open wider. “Poe-kun.” He has a big grin of his own, eyes crinkling as he takes a look around. His hair looks a bit neater than usual; black strands brushed to mostly the same directions, only a few falling on his face, framing his eyes like they always do. The detective looks back at Poe, eyes meeting with his own, and Poe can see how the green shines in the warm lights of his kitchen, looking almost darker, but somehow also almost a transparent yellow.
Ranpo glances away, eyes wandering behind him, towards the kitchen. He walks forward, placing his hand on the counter and dragging it along as he continues, just looking around. He takes off his jacket, holding it carefully over one of the chairs by the kitchen island, looking at Poe as if questioning that it’s okay for him to leave his belongings there.
“You can put your bag down, if you’d like,” he offers, gesturing to where the other was going to drape his outer layer. Ranpo nods in thanks, smiling a little. He does just that, putting his jacket over the chair’s back, and slipping his bag’s strap over his head, putting the small thing down on the seat.
He’s wearing a simple black button-down and black pants, but something about it looks so put together. He looks comfortable, walking with an air of ease and confidence as if he’s been to Poe’s house thousands of times already.
For some reason, Poe smiles at that, happy that the other is feeling so natural in his home. The sense of anxiety he felt anticipating the other’s arrival, ebbs at his actual being here.
“Would you like something to drink? Or maybe something to eat? I made some sweets not too long ago.” Poe is a little disappointed he didn’t remember to bake a chocolate cake again, but in his opinion the cinnamon rolls he made yesterday turned out to be incredible. Ranpo hums, cheerfully saying that he would like whatever sweet Poe has to offer.
He makes his way to the living room soon after, eyes caught on something as they lead him away, leaving Poe in the kitchen. “Alright.”
The writer laughs, going to the stove and picking up the dish beside it, already out from when Poe himself ate a few pieces earlier today with Louisa and Lucy. There’s a little less than a half of it left, and there’s a small pool of icing on the side from where the other pieces once were.
Poe figures the other would enjoy his with a lot of icing; he grabs a plate and places one of the cinnamon rolls atop it, scooping all the excess icing from the sides and spreading it on top. When he deems it good enough, he places one piece on his own plate, grabbing both of them and walking to the living room, where Ranpo has already found Karl.
“You’re so cute.” The detective is kneeling by the sofa Karl lays on, softly whispering to the raccoon as he watches him with big eyes. “Can I pet him?” he asks Poe, who has now set their plates on the living-room table. Poe hums his agreement, telling him to be gentle so that they don’t accidentally wake him up from his sleep. He smiles a bit when Ranpo nods, eyes fixed on Karl, not even sparing a glance behind himself.
Poe walks away with a smile, happy that his new friend is getting along with Karl. He calls back to Ranpo asking if he’d like something to drink, smiling wider when he asks in return if he has any soft drinks.
He does. Poe asks him which he’d like, nodding when the other answers a brand of sweet tea he enjoys as well.
From the living room he hears Karl slowly rise from sleep, letting out a soft chirp that both he and Ranpo, judging by the soft laugh he lets out at the sound, find cute.
Poe replayed the laugh in his head a few times, burning it to memory.
The house felt a bit warmer; a slow, cozy atmosphere coating the air in a soft orange hue. Poe felt a bit unreal. It was rare for him to feel this comfortable around people, especially so soon after meeting them. And Ranpo…
It was weird. For so long he held the detective on what seemed to be a mighty high pedestal. As something to beat, as motivation.
Seeing him in person…Seeing him as a person- Just a person- It was incredibly weird. A good weird.
Poe found that he liked it a lot.
Perhaps the problem was with him not doing so from the very beggining.
Often he’d find himself wondering what the other is doing, toying with the idea of asking him to meet up himself, but never actually doing so. Ranpo’s company was something he, funnily enough, not only enjoyed, but sometimes thought of seeking out. It was especially weird since they only really met up once before.
Holding the glass in his hand, he walked back, setting the dark orange-brown colored drink down beside their plates and taking a seat on the sofa, just beside the sofa Karl was on.
The writer was delighted to find that the raccoon didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest. Instead he looked at Ranpo with big, curious eyes, paw reaching out to touch him. The detective leaned into it, letting the small animal get familiar with his presence. Slowly, but surely, he did; Karl leaned his head to Ranpo’s, trying to catch his scent. Ranpo stayed still as the raccoon explored, a smile growing on his face when suddenly he felt a weight on his arm, traveling to his shoulder where it settled, holding on to the top of his head.
Slowly rising while holding a careful hand to Karl, making sure he’s secure and comfortable, Ranpo looked at Poe, a satisfied smile on his face. Poe couldn’t help but laugh, a little in disbelief that Karl liked Ranpo this much, this soon. He also couldn’t hide his own happiness at Ranpo’s giddiness.
Poe grabbed his plate, slowly peeling the outer layer of the cinnamon roll and placing it in his mouth, chewing happily. It really did turn out great.
He noticed Ranpo looking at him with an unreadable expression; he looked away to break the eye-contact, getting flustered; Poe pointed to the table where he set Ranpo’s dessert and drink, looking at how his eyes followed to where his finger pointed.
Carefully, the detective reached for his own plate, settling down next to Poe. He, too, started eating the dessert. Poe watched as his eyes seemed to light up when Ranpo took the first bite, humming around the cinnamon roll and turning to Poe. “It’s good!” he exclaimed. A flush rose to Poe's cheeks, “I'm glad.”
Poe reached out to pet Karl, smiling when he let out a few soft sounds and slowly lay down on Ranpo’s shoulders.
They sat there, silence lingered around them as they enjoyed the dessert, not uncomfortable.
“You know, you never did end up giving me your book the last time we met.” Poe remembered that too; he felt a bit silly when he got home that same day, book still hanging in his coat pocket. “It’s here. I put it on the table in case we ended up meeting not too long after, so I won’t forget it another time.” Ranpo hummed.
“I can.. go get it? If you want? Or I can just give it to you before you leave? Although, then we risk forgetting about it again so it’s probably not the best option.”
Ranpo nodded along, but Poe was convinced he was only half listening, being completely immersed in chewing his newly found dessert.
He liked it a lot, Poe noted, mind already swimming with many other options the other might like. Perhaps he can make him a pie? He seems to like cake a lot, so it’s probably a safer bet.
“You can give it to me now,” Ranpo started, mouth still full, “-I’ll just put it in my bag. That way we won’t forget about it.” Poe couldn’t help a snicker at seeing the man. “We were probably too immersed in whatever we were doing last time, so we forgot about it. I already know more or less what it’s about; I watched your interview, after all.”
Poe flushed, remembering their accidental meeting in the store, their first meeting, where he embarrassingly- Shamelessly! told the man to watch his interview.
“Yeah.” Ranpo looked at him, in his eyes, “you like the protagonist, don’t you?”
Poe felt a chill go down his spine at how well the other read him from merely a simple interview.
If this is how well he can do it after barely knowing you, imagine how easy it would be when you're close friends, his thoughts ran wild, half in panic.
Ranpo truly is amazing, Poe thought. No wonder he’s such a great detective.
“Yes,” he whispered, in awe. Ranpo seemed a bit smug at his reaction, lips stretching into a smirk. “I am the greatest detective in the world, aren’t I?”
Getting a personal demonstration is different.
The difference between knowing and experiencing is a whole world.
“What gave it away?” he couldn’t help but ask. Ranpo hummed, as if he expected the question, and Poe supposes, he probably has. “When you’re proud of something you have this smirk on your face, like you’re trying to hide that you’re smug. It’s pretty common in people.
When you talked about one of the scenes, I noticed you always had that expression whenever you mentioned the protagonist, or something he said. You also tend to lean forward, and look at people’s faces, which I’ve noticed you’re usually too shy to do, at least for long periods of time.”
A bit unsettled and wanting to prove him wrong, Poe told him, “I look at you!” aiming to dispute the point of him disliking making eye contact in conversation, even though he knew it to be right.
“You look at me,” Ranpo simply replied.
Poe waited for something else, but the other never continued. He simply agreed with him.
The writer broke their eye contact in embarrassment. It got too much.
“I’ll go get your book,” he said, feeling defeated, cheeks pink. Ranpo giggled, “alrighty.”
Ranpo stayed over for another hour.
________________
Poe felt quite awkward.
Louiza ended up contacting him about a new offer for him.
“It’s one of the biggest magazines, Ed! This is amazing.” Poe, in contrast to her great excitement for him, did not feel that great about doing a photoshoot.
He hummed, trying to match her energy, but it seemed she knew him for too long, already familiar with his feelings and doubts.
“It won’t be the cover,” she tried to reassure him. “Only a couple pages from the end.”
“I don’t know, Louisa. I’ve just now had my first camera appearance, and look how that went. I barely managed that, how am I supposed to deal with taking pictures? Posing? I don’t think I'm ready for this.”
“Oh, Ed.. Won’t you try? If you really feel like you’re unable to do it I won’t ever press you for anything similar, but what if it’s not all that bad? Many people follow them, it could be great for you.”
Poe still felt uncertain, but… Louisa was right. This could bring many new people- So many new people who’ll experience his books for the first time.
“..Alright.”
And that’s how he found himself here; he was posing, or trying to, with whatever prior knowledge he had.
The director didn’t seem to hate it, so Poe figured he was doing something right, which of course, brought the confidence levels up, yet he still couldn’t shake off the layer of awkwardness that seemed to scream at him: I don’t know what I’m doing!
He looked up at the camera, eyes peeking out from between his hair, knowing the reaction to the expression was well received during the interview. With his hands holding his hips he leaned a bit forward. He could feel the weird material of the suit they put him in.
He felt so..unusual. Not bad, no. But unusual all the same.
He actually felt quite handsome; the stylist who worked with him told him he fit everything she tried, and that for a writer, he exceeded her expectations. His makeup was subtle- a barely there, slightly darker eyeshadow, and some concealer to his darker spots. She also used a few things he wasn’t very familiar with, but he liked the end result quite a lot, so he didn’t mind.
“Move your leg a bit closer to the camera! A bit left! A bit, ah! Yes! Perfect! Hold that!”
He let himself get led by the camera, doing whatever felt natural.
In all honesty, he just stood there and moved all the time. At first it was because he didn’t know what to do with himself, but with the coming praise, he kept it up, growing confident, a smirk making its way to his face.
He made straight eye contact with the camera, the smirk ever so present.
“That’s the one! Perfect! We’re done!” With the director’s call, he relaxed, lips falling to a more natural, a bit embarrassed smile.
The man walked to him, his steps quick as he fixed his camera strap so that it’s out of the way, behind his back. With his hand held out he spoke, “you were brilliant,” he said. “Really, it felt so natural. You have good height, too. If you ever feel up to it, you can always give me a call; I can get you a job no problem.”
Poe felt embarrassed, nodding along with the man and taking the business card he offered, “thank you, Louis.”
Louis patted him on the back, and went back to his work.
Poe went to his bag.
He had to stay in the clothes until after the interview, and the interview was going to start in 10 minutes. He had some time to eat something small before that.
There was a sandwich table outside the changing room, and he remembered some of them to actually look really good. Hm. With his mind made up, he started walking, before someone touched him on the arm, gently, but firmly enough for him to turn around.
When he turned to check who it was, he came face to face with a young man. He was probably in his early to mid 20’s, black and white dyed hair and sparkling brown eyes, like he just saw something unexpected. Ah.
Poe smiled at him, “hey.” The man flushed, looking away from him, seeming shy. Poe found the action endearing; the man reminded him a bit of himself when he was younger.
“You probably already know why I’m here,” he said. Poe gave a kind smile. “I can guess, if you’d like?”
The man laughed. “You don’t need to do that. I’m Akutagawa.” He nodded along with the other. His name didn’t sound American at all, but there was no accent Poe could detect either. “Hello Akutagawa.” The other laughed at that, his hand coming up to his head, where he proceeded to rub the skin.
“This is so awkward, I'm sorry. I just saw you and I knew I’d regret it if I said nothing and let you go. I’ve been a fan of your work for a long time now; It’s really impressive that you’ve accomplished all of this. Hell, just yesterday we had some of the biggest names in music, and today it’s you. It’s pretty amazing.” Poe felt his own cheeks flush. “Thank you,” he replied, not knowing what else to say.
“It’s been…a lot. Honestly, It took so much just to get here. It still feels surreal, and it sounds like you were following me for a long time, so I'm sure you know.” Akutagawa lowered his head in embarrassment, but nodded in agreement at the words. “I do.”
Poe laughed. “Thank you, truly. I’m only getting all these opportunities because you enjoy what I write. So really, I suppose in a way I owe it all to you.”
The raven laughed, “not at all.”
“Well, thank you anyways.”
Akutagawa looked up at him, smiling, “no problem. As long as you keep writing, I’ll be here, following along.” Poe smiled back at him. “Well-” the other started, looking to the side where all the stylists were getting ready for the next guest, “-thank you, again. Your photoshoot was really good, too, by the way.” Before Poe could reply he added, “try not to do the same pose in every picture next time you’re doing something like this, alright?” With that he left, waving at Poe and smiling.
Poe smiled too, pink high on his cheeks.
Alright, where was he?
He went to the sandwich table at last.
________________
It got a tiny bit better, the second time around.
The host was introducing him to the camera while he looked on, waving to the viewers at the end of her words. “-Edgar Allan Poe!” and on his que he smiled.
“Thank you for having me, Natasha.” Natasha, a host Louisa specifically asked for, known for her kindness and professionalism, smiled at him, sensing his still-there hesitance.
“How are you feeling, Edgar? This is now your second time on camera! And you’ve done a whole photoshoot, too! Which I’m sure all the fans back home are very curious about.” She threw a teasing smile to the camera at the last sentence. “He was amazing, everyone! It’s hard to believe it’s only your second time, you seem so natural.” She looked him in the eye as she talked, an encouraging smile on her face.
Poe laughed for the camera, a little unsure. “I’m a little nervous,” he said, truthful. “-I’m still trying to figure it out, but I think I’m doing alright so far.” Natasha laughed along, nodding in agreement, as if to say, “yeah, you’re doing well.”
“It was a little hard trying to figure out the poses and I’m still a bit unused to the camera, but Louis helped me with directions, and the makeup and styling teams all did an amazing job, so it was a little easier.”
“From what they say you barely needed help,” she teased. He laughed, looking at the camera, “I suppose we’ll have to wait for the people at home to say their opinion.”
“Alright! You heard it guys, when you see the pictures, let us know what you think.”
Poe leaned back on the couch. It was a yellow thing, shaped like a crescent moon. Much less comfortable than the other studio’s one, Poe couldn’t help but think in his head. It wasn’t soft against his back, which really didn’t help him relax.
He breathed in deep through his nose, looking at Natasha as she threw him another smile, eyes questioning. Poe nodded at her, to show that he’s okay to continue. She nodded, reading the next question. Behind her the camera men came closer, fixing their hold on the paraphernalia and making sure they weren’t blocking the light.
“So, in the past few months your book, “House of Tragedies,” broke records, both international and personal, as well as becoming your best selling book of all time! It must be incredible for you! Tell us a bit about how all of this feels.”
“Wow, well. If I’m being completely honest with you,” he leaned in as he spoke, trying to express that he’s genuine. “-It’s quite bizarre. I've gotten noticed for the first time not long after the first interview, and it caught me very off guard. The feeling of being known and loved by so many while being just..me, is so strange, but so reassuring as well. It feels so strictly unique. It truly is unlike anything else.”
She hummed, nodding along.
“And if you had to compare it to something?”
Hm. That’s something he hasn't thought about before. She went off script.
“Perhaps an adrenaline rush? Although less extreme.”
Natasha shifted in her own seat, leaning forward as if she were very interested in the subject. “That’s so interesting,” she said, and Poe nodded, a small smile making its way to his face.
“Is it a good feeling for you? Or maybe something that makes you more nervous or anxious? You compared it to adrenaline rush, which is often caused by anxiety.”
Well alright, we’re going incredibly off script.
He supposed that’s the difference between a good, seasoned interviewer and a new one.
He certainly wasn’t mad about having to think a little, instead of just having to answer dry questions.
“It is a good feeling. It makes me feel a sense of accomplishment everytime it happens, which in turn makes me genuinely happy. Although, I would say that sometimes I am a tad anxious. I believe it’s only natural, but as soon as you suddenly have many people looking up to you, it also puts on you the want to reach their expectations, which for me is a little nerve racking. However, I also believe the only way to get better and more experienced is to go through and deal with what makes you scared and anxious.”
“That’s amazing. You have a very mature outlook on life, and I have to agree with you; doing what makes you nervous is the key to becoming a more experienced and better version of yourself.” She didn’t look at the camera once during that entire segment, keeping her eyes on Poe as he answered, and later as she replied to him. She looked attentive, and genuinely interested in what he had to say. Poe smiled, growing comfortable after knowing this. He uncrossed his legs, spreading them apart a little to allow himself a better, more relaxed position.
He took the opportunity to look around the set. The Transparent magazine studio was very modern and colorful; many furniture pieces were odd shapes and bold colored, while the walls were variant pastels. Even the screen between them, on the wall at his left was a modern model; the entire wall seemed to light up with a picture of the cover of House of Tragedies. It’s the first time he saw the cover of his book this big before.
“Edgar, your books are often surrounded in mystery and darker subjects such as death; House of Tragedies is no exception, and the mystery within it is a hot topic among your many fans. Did you think it would become as big of a debate as it had?”
“Well, I knew fans would speculate, and that there would be many different opinions; in fact, it was something I planned for while writing the book- I wanted many different logical possibilities that got narrowed down with each chapter, yet not enough to kill the discussion. But if I thought it would get as big as it did? No, I genuinely did not. I remember my manager, Louisa calling me one day in the very early hours of the morning, I was barely awake. She told me my book was trending on multiple platforms.” He laughed recalling the moment.
“What? Louisa, what are you talking about?” He told her, voice still rough from being awoken merely moments before.
“Ed! Your book! It blew up! People are trying to figure out who the killer is!”
She sounded so excited.
Poe really couldn’t handle it at 6 o'clock.
“I barely understood what she meant, and by the time I woke up completely, a few hours after, the book already surpassed all previous records I managed to achieve.”
“That must've felt so satisfactory. Something you’ve worked so hard on getting such a big recognition.” Poe nodded eagerly. It truly did. It felt unreal. Still does.
“I still don’t believe it,” he said. Natasha laughed.
“Well, in time you’ll get more used to it.” He nodded in agreement.
He truly hoped so.
“So,” she began, and Poe immediately; he turned his attention back to her, eager for her next question. “-I have to ask. Since your last interview it has become a great topic, especially since you’ve said so little of it.”
Oh.
Whatever eagerness he had, it evaporated like water on lava.
“Yes,” he said slowly, hesitant to see where it’s going to go.
He didn’t want to say too much about Ranpo, not when they were just starting to get to know each other.
Not when they were just starting to become friends.
“Is there any new info from the man you wrote the book for? Has he read it yet?” She grinned, and Poe could tell she had a personal interest in the answer herself.
He let out a sigh, in his head, of course; in front of the camera he just smiled sheepishly, “yes, there is, actually. I’ve recently come in contact with him again, and we’ve talked about the book. He watched the interview, and has expressed his interest in reading House of Tragedies, although he has yet to do so. I decided to lend him my own copy. I suppose we’ll know his reaction soon enough, when he finishes reading it.”
“This is very exciting news! Everyone stay tuned to any new interviews from Poe! The next one might be the one you get the answer from!”
She looked at the camera as she spoke to the audience, before she turned back to him, holding her arm out for the writer to shake.
Poe took it, giving her a professional hand shake, and smiling when she smiled big at him.
“Thank you so much for coming here to Transparent Magazine. And that will be all we have for you today guys! This has been Natasha Brown with Edgar Allan Poe!”
With one last smile Natasha got up.
“You were brilliant, Edgar,” she complemented. He smiled in return, happy at the praise. “Thank you.” Natasha laughed at him, throwing him a wink, “if you ever have another appearance here, make sure to tell Louisa to request me again.”
Poe laughed again, not expecting that, “alright.”
What a bold woman.
He couldn't wait to tell Lucy about this.