Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Life had been going well. Oguri was able to move out of Poe’s mansion now that everything had mostly blown over and he was able to afford it.

He was going to miss the conversations that they had over tea in the mornings or the strange tales of America that the writer had to offer, but it was nice to have some peace and quiet.

As Oguri layed there in his own bed, which he bought with his own money, he wondered if he would still talk to his friends. He didn’t depend on them for much, he had his own job and house now, but he did have their numbers. Perhaps if one of them reached out they could go for a lunch date or something along those lines.

A sharp melodic knock on his front door broke him out of his thoughts. Oguri slowly rose out of his bed and checked the clock. Five minutes past midnight, who could possibly need him at this time?

The knocking grew louder, and then, “Mushitarou-kun! Open the door!”

A quiet hiss responded, “Shush! Ranpo, he has neighbors. Just wait a minute, I’m sure he’s on his way now.”

Oguri hesitated in front of the closed door until he heard, “Hey, it’s cold out! I know you’re right there, Mushita-” He opened the door, revealing Poe and Ranpo.

“What are you doing here? At midnight?” He deadpanned.

The two men exchanged a glance before the shorter one let himself in, pushing past Oguri.

“Well, given that it is mid-March, what would you assume?” Ranpo scanned the room as Oguri left to make some tea. His visitors may have come uninvited but he still felt that he should be a good host; Especially after they had done so much to help him.

“To be completely honest, I’m not entirely sure,” he called from the kitchen, beginning to boil some water, “Do either of you have a preference on what type of tea I make?”

Ranpo requested something sweet while Poe said he didn’t mind.

“Come on, think, Mushitarou-kun! It’s a little past twelve on the morning of March fourteenth, what does that mean?” the detective prodded.

Oguri walked back into the room with a tray of tea and sugar, “I said I didn’t know, Ranpo-san. Just tell me if it’s that important.”

Poe frowned as he took a sip of tea, “You mean you don’t know?” Oguri shrugged in response. The American looked deeply troubled at the fact that he didn’t know what March fourteenth was. Oguri tried to think of anything that could explain the strange behavior of the men, but nothing came to mind.

“Mushitarou-kun, it’s your birthday.” Poe finally admitted, earning a pointed glare and grumble from the detective.

“It’s… my birthday?” Oguri asked, suddenly feeling weak.

Ranpo scoffed, “You didn’t even know your own birthday? Wow…”

“We got you a gift,” Poe mumbled, sensing a change in Oguri’s mood and pulling out a small book from his coat.

Oguri swallowed harshly, his throat suddenly feeling dry. He took a big sip of tea before finally speaking again, “Ah, you didn’t have to.” His face started to feel hot, his stomach felt like it was trying to crawl out of his body, and he just wanted to be left alone. Why did they have to come here?

Oguri grabbed the book from Poe, trying to breathe regularly. “Thank you, really.”

In the book are a number of pictures of the trio, one at the zoo, one that seemed to be snapped in secret of the three of them when Oguri first met Ranpo, and another showed a small celebration of them after Oguri began living with the writer. Folded after the last page in the book was two letters from the men.

Ranpo’s letter just stated a couple facts that he shouldn’t have known about him and then finished with a happy note that he was glad they were friends.

Poe’s was more elegantly written and recalled some of the writer's favorite moments with Oguri. He felt a small smile creep onto his lips as he finished.

“This is so thoughtful, thank you guys,” he stood, “But if that’s all, could I please be left to myself now? I have some tasks to finish now.”

Ranpo frowned, “Some ‘tasks’ on your birthday? Can’t they wait?”

“No, they are quite urgent, actually.”

Poe nodded slightly before also standing, "We should probably get back to my house as well. Karl gets lonely easily.” Oguri sighed in relief that Ranpo’s boyfriend was a lot less stubborn when it came to others’ personal matters.

Oguri ushered the others out and locked the door once he was sure they had left. He made his way back to his room, feeling exhausted. On the foot of a bed sat a familiar presence.

“Happy birthday, Mushi-kun!” the man smiled.

“Please let me rest, Yokomizo. I know what day it is,” he muttered, pulling the covers over himself waiting for sleep to come. The ghost disappeared, but Oguri still felt the heavy presence of death in his room. It all came flooding back.

Chapter Text

“Yokomizo! I got your message, is everything alright?”

The man sat there at his table and softly grinned at Oguri. “Everything is fine, don’t worry.” A small groan from the ability user, “But I think today may have to be the day.”

Oguri flinched at the remark, “If today’s the day that you…” he swallowed harshly, unable to finish the statement, “How could you say everything is fine if that’s the case?!” He made his way over next to the writer and sat down.

Yokomizo smiled softly, completely calm with the situation. It was unnerving, to tell the truth. If today was the last day of his life, how could he be so happy?

“Have you figured out how it’s going to happen?” Oguri tried after receiving no response to the last question.

“Ah, yes! I just finished the story. Here,” the writer slid the copy over.

Oguri scanned the pages for a moment before looking up at his boyfriend. The details were very specific, and he pondered how the writer planned on getting it done. Yokomizo was looking at him expectantly, obviously awaiting some type of feedback.

He mustered as much positive energy as he could, despite feeling very weird about the energy in the room, “It’s amazing, Yokomizo! Especially for a detective story…” As his enthusiasm dropped slightly, he watched the writer’s face fill with pride. It was impressive to get Oguri to offer any compliment to his works.

“But I do have to ask, who is going to play the ‘vicious hatred-driven murderer’?” Oguri let a joking tone slip into his voice as he over-exaggerated the words.
Yokomizo twitched his mouth, a nervous habit he’d had since high school. His stomach sank for a moment.

Who else would play the role of the angry friend who betrayed the victim? They had been each others’ only friends for as long as he could remember. A sour taste filled his mouth. Did this mean…? No, Yokomizo couldn’t possibly expect his own boyfriend to go as murder for a silly book. There was absolutely no way he expected that of him. Right?
“Please,” Oguri hoped he had been wrong, that Yokomizo had a different plan, “Tell me you don’t mean me.”

The writer looked down, refusing to make eye contact.

Oguri felt his face grow hot, he tried to hold back his tears. He couldn’t cry, no, it wasn’t like it was his life being taken. It was probably his fault for making the jokes in the first place. ‘I wish I could kill you’ is an expression. Did he really think he was capable of doing that? Another thought struck him.

Was it his ability? After they had begun dating in college, he had told his boyfriend about his ability and even showed him the ghosts. It was quite painful to spawn them, but it was still pretty helpful when he needed to escape a small sticky situation with the police. Even then, a speeding ticket being avoided was completely different than murder. Oguri felt as if someone was squeezing his heart in his chest. It pounded dully and yet violently loud in his ears. Tears began sliding down his face and he quickly tried to wipe them. No, he wasn’t crying. He was a good person, he could just refuse. Get someone else to kill him. Anything else would work.

Yokomizo finally broke his silence, looking up at Oguri, “If you’re going to say you won’t do it, I won’t accept that. Nobody else would fit the script. And nobody else could get away with it. I know it’s hard but-”

“If you know it’s hard then you wouldn’t make me do it! Why would I ever want to kill my own boyfriend?” Oguri felt himself finally burst.

“Don’t be selfish Mushitarou! This is your only friend’s dying wish and you’re refusing to help? Other people have problems of their own!”

Yokomizo called him by his full name. Not a nickname, no honorific. It burned to feel so open, so bare. It was like Yokomizo didn’t even know him. Stress did that to a person. Oguri was sure that his boyfriend probably didn’t want to die either, he didn’t want to slowly have everything taken from him. Nothing was fair, why did he have to lose his boyfriend? Why did he have to get sick?

At the same time, why did he have to be the villain just because someone else told him to be? He should be able to make his own choices, right?

“I’m sorry, Yokomizo. I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I’ll…” Did he really have to commit to such an awful thing? It was the only thing he was asking of him, it’d be a special type of disrespect to turn down his request. “I’ll do it.”

Yokomizo’s grin was a relief to see, but he felt his heart sink. This wasn’t a sick joke. He was really going to have to do this.

“When do you want to-”

“Now would be fine.” His voice sounded so hollow and empty. Like he’d already given in. The playful look on his face was gone, replaced with exhaustion.

“Can I ask another question? Why today?” Oguri managed, trying to put off the deed.

The writer looked down as if he’d been expecting the question, “Well, to be honest, I wanted to wait until the summer when mystery books are more successful but... I went to the doctor for a checkup on my status. He said I wouldn't make it that long, and it was a pipe dream to believe that I'd even make it to next month."

It was true, the writer looked exhausted beyond belief, like he hadn't slept at all despite his oddly specific schedule. His eyes had sunken in quite a bit, he looked thin and weak, even though he had seemed full of energy when Oguri had first arrived, he could tell it was taking a lot of energy just to stay alive and ignore the pain. It made Oguri feel awful, almost enough that he saw reason to fulfill his role and just put the poor man out of his misery.

After realizing this, Oguri shook his head slightly, he shouldn't think like that. "How was it done again?"

If Yokomizo heard the shakiness of his boyfriend's voice, he ignored it. "Strangulation, right next to the finished draft of the manuscript."

"Oh." Oguri hadn't realized how personal the death had to be. It couldn't be a quick jab with a knife, no, it had to be the most vicious way to go.

"Shall we get into character then?" Yokomizo joked mirthlessly.

Now, Oguri wasn't sure what it would feel like to commit such an evil crime. A small part of himself buzzed with energy at the thought of learning something that very few in the world ever would. To have control over something so valuable for once. But, the more sensible part of him understood how sick and twisted this entire thing was. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to be in this situation.

As he knelt over his boyfriend's body he gently wrapped his hands around the latter's neck, taking care to get the position exactly right from the story. He kept an eye on the scene description open behind Yokomizo's head in case he needed to refer back to it.

"Hey, it's okay, you can do this," Yokomizo affirmed, pulling the hands tighter around his neck and looking Oguri in his eyes. "Oh, and happy birthday, Mushi-kun."

Feeling the air get stopped under his own hands was the most unsettling feeling Oguri had ever felt in his entire life. He shuddered violently and Yokomizo flailed in an attempt to get him off. Even if this was his idea, the human brain didn't care about the reason behind the violence. Dying was dying and it was going to try and prevent it as best as it could.

Yokomizo's eyes watered, but Oguri found it hard to see anything through his own clouded vision. There were raspy begs for him to stop, but Oguri knew that he had to do this, it couldn't be helped.

All at once, it was over. Yokomizo's body stilled under his boyfriend's weight. He slid off of the body feeling his heart pound violently loud at the absence of Yokomizo's. A low pained groan filled the house, and for a moment Oguri thought it would be the author, readying himself to reclasp his hands around his neck. His throat burned and his vision was so blurry, he wasn't sure if he could defend himself if he needed to.

He felt out of breath, but he wasn't aware that'd he'd even been making a sound. The groan earlier? Had that been him? He rechecked Yokomizo's pulse and decided that he was, in fact, dead. This wasn't a sick joke, it was all too real. He felt nauseous like he was going to throw up. But he wasn't done yet.

He still had to complete the rest of the detailed crime scene. He activated 'The Perfect Crime' and watched as the ghosts quickly cleaned up the remaining evidence against him being the killer. But he still wasn't done. Oguri gripped the body of his now-deceased boyfriend close to him and wept into his chest. He had to pull it together and finish it, but hurting the man all over again to leave the disturbing clue was too much to bear.

One of the small ghosts floated over to Oguri, holding the manuscript gently. The ability user snatched it away from the ghost and noticed something wrong immediately. Right there, in the margin of the last page detailing the murder. A single teardrop had fallen onto the paper, staining it.

"What are you doing? Remove the evidence!" He scowled, handing it back to the ghost. It looked up at him and seemed to do the equivalent of a shrug before floating off again.
Great, so now he had to stop and photocopy the manuscript just so he wouldn't be caught.

Not only that but he had left a marking on the manuscript. The one thing his dead boyfriend had asked of him and he failed it. Of course, he had.

The room felt like it was growing tighter. Oguri just wanted to sleep through the entire day, but all he could hear was Yokomizo's awful 'Happy Birthday, Mushi-kun'.

His breathing was irregular and he knew it but whenever he tried to calm himself down enough and breathe properly, he just gasped louder and sobbed harder. How was he supposed to fix this when everything he did was wrong? He had killed his boyfriend! What if Yokomizo actually didn't want to die? What if it was all a test and that's why he still haunted him?

The sound of movement echoed through the hallway but Oguri couldn't bring himself to focus on it. He curled up tighter in the blankets, hoping that whoever the intruder was would just put him out of his misery and kill him.

Chapter Text

“This is ridiculous, Poe! Obviously he was fine. I mean, sure the ‘tasks’ were stupid but he’s probably fine. Musitarou is just busy.” Ranpo stood regardless, grabbing his boyfriend by the hand.

Poe looked down, “I know that you’re not good at emotions, but he was panicking when we brought up his birthday, I swear.”

As the two made their way towards the door Karl jumped onto Poe’s shoulders, sensing the distress his owner was in. So, the boyfriends and the raccoon walked down the street. It was now eight in the morning, so the streets were somewhat busy with people hurrying around to work and such. Ranpo had asked for the day off, thinking he would possibly get to celebrate for longer than a couple of minutes, but was still ready to be called on a case at any minute.

Ranpo looked up at his boyfriend, who was absentmindedly petting his raccoon. He looked very stressed, shifting the pet again on his shoulder. Ranpo frowned and grabbed Poe’s other hand, “He’s going to be okay, you know.”

“I know he probably will be, but you weren’t there when he first got to my house. Mushitarou is going through a lot… I think it has to do with his past, but we never discussed it,” Poe’s brows furrowed under his long bangs.

Ranpo finally looked up from where he was studying the ground, “What do you mean? What was he doing that was so concerning?”

“For one thing, he’d talk to himself…”

“That’s not too bad. You sometime’s do when you are thinking up ideas for writing,” Ranpo countered.

“Well, yes, but he was having a one-sided conversation. Nobody was responding to him, but he would have an answer. I think he said he was talking to someone he called ‘Yokomizo’ whenever he’d be talking.” Poe felt a tug at his hand and he snapped his head up, realizing that Ranpo had stopped. They had arrived at Oguri’s house.

When they opened the door, all of the curtains were still drawn. It looked the exact same as when the two of them had left nearly eight hours prior, down to the teacups that were still on the table. They heard muffled noises coming from what was presumably Oguri’s room.

The two removed their shoes and slipped on the guest slippers quietly, trying not to alarm the owner of the house. Ranpo wasn’t sure what exactly Oguri was doing, but he could clearly hear him crying. Perhaps something was wrong after all.

Poe gently petted Karl as his boyfriend knocked on the door where Oguri was obviously in. There was no answer, so Ranpo knocked harder, earning a slightly worried look from Poe. Once again, there was no response.

Ranpo cleared his throat quietly, “Mushitarou-kun, I’m coming in.” He hesitated with opening the door, unsure of what he’d see when he opened the door.

The sight that awaited the two men was shocking. If you were to ask Poe what it was like living with Oguri, one of the things he would bring up is how organized the other man was. In fact, the writer was so disorganized that Oguri was constantly cleaning.

So it was quite surprising entering his room and finding it to be an absolute mess and the owner shaking quite violently under the covers, sobbing and hiccuping to the point that it sounded physically painful. Both men immediately ran to Oguri, to try and figure out the problem.

Ranpo was the first to kneel down next to him and try to pull off the covers albeit unsuccessfully,“Mushitarou-kun! What happened? Are you okay?” Poe followed him shortly after but gave him some space. “Hey, we’re right here, what do you need?”

When no response came, they weren’t sure what to do next. Sure, they’d had their fair share of breakdowns, but everyone was different. Ranpo never wanted to be touched whenever he was having one, while Poe needed to be held close. How were they supposed to help when they didn’t know how?

Oguri felt something pulling at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look around. He just wanted to curl up and die right there. If nobody ever saw him again, he was sure nobody would care. In fact, he just should run away. He always did anyway. After Yokomizo, after getting arrested, and abducted, he always just ran. Hell, even after Poe had helped him, he just ran away to live on his own.

Ranpo got an idea, sliding off the slippers and climbing up next to Oguri. Obviously, the man was spiraling, and if he didn’t get him out of his brain, who knows what would happen next?

Poe watched and quickly followed suit, despite not being the biggest fan of physical contact, he understood what his boyfriend was doing, and he could use all the help he needed.

The detective gently pulled the blanket off of Oguri’s head, revealing the kind of face one could only get from several hours of nonstop crying. Oguri quickly scrambled towards the closest form of warmth around, which happened to be Ranpo, before shuddering in such a violent way he nearly fell off again.

Oguri clearly hadn’t gotten remotely ready for the day, his appearance was very disheveled, including his hair which was usually so neatly held in place. Poe scooted closer to the other two before running his hands through it. He knew that was what Ranpo typically liked after his breakdown slowed slightly. Perhaps Oguri would like the same thing? Poe also beckoned Karl closer to him and onto the bed with his free hand. Once the raccoon got closer, he maneuvered his way into Oguri’s arms, who subconsciously ran his hands through the animal’s soft fur. Karl was an emotional support animal for a reason.

As time went on, Oguri’s sobbing slowed slightly, still hiccuping violently on occasion, but it was a big improvement in contrast to his behavior when they first got in.
Ranpo began rubbing Oguri’s back slightly, feeling slightly guilty for having dismissed the man’s obvious issues earlier that day.

A couple minutes later, Oguri had stopped crying entirely, his body only racked with a violent tremor here and there. He felt a calming presence rubbing his back in small circle motions and a hand in his hair. The man’s first thought was to bat the one on his head away, especially considering that he hadn’t even been aware people were in his house.

Oguri flinched and fell off the bed. No one should’ve been in his house. No one should have been there, especially when he was like this. He sprung up off the floor and attempted to regain his composure, glancing at the bed where the intruder(s?) were. On the bed sat Ranpo and Poe, both with the same shocked and concerned expressions. Poe was cradling Karl in his arms, gently rubbing the animal’s head.

“Sorry.” Oguri walked out of the room, leaving the two men to themselves. He could hear them spring off of his bed but didn’t turn back. He smoothed down his hair slightly, finding there were nearly no knots.

“Hey, Mushitarou-kun!” A hand grabbed his shoulder effectively bringing his mind out of its cloudy state. He glanced down at Ranpo before swatting his hand away.
“What are you doing here? I thought I told you I was busy today.”

Ranpo gave an indignant huff before opening his mouth to point out that he wasn’t necessarily doing anything before they came, but Poe quickly put his hand over the detective’s mouth. “We came to check on you… you seemed off this morning when we came by so I convinced Ranpo to let us come back. I’m sorry, I should’ve talked to you first but, I don’t know,” The author answered in his stead.

Oguri looked down, “It’s nothing, really. I’d prefer if you’d leave now.”

Before his boyfriend could respond, Ranpo ripped Poe’s hand off of his mouth, “‘It’s nothing’?! Are you serious, Mushitarou-kun? You were literally in your room for god knows how long breaking down! That’s not nothing!” he shouted.

Poe clamped his hand over his mouth again as Oguri stumbled back slightly before slightly regaining his position, “I believe I asked you to leave.”

“Okay, no. That’s it.” Poe wasn’t one to disagree and fight back against a friend’s wishes, in fact, he typically just timidly did as they said. “You obviously aren’t fine and I’m not leaving until you explain what’s going on, Mushitarou-san. I’m not leaving until you do so.”

The other man just scowled, “Fine, I’ll leave then. Nobody cares anyway.”

“Nobody cares? Are you fucking kidding me right now?! We came here to check on you, yes? And we comforted you, correct? And now we ask what’s wrong to try and help, and you have the audacity to say that nobody cares?!” Ranpo was seething, using the same calm voice he used when questioning a criminal he’d backed into a corner. Poe placed a hand on his shoulder in a calming motion.

“Please, Mushitarou-san. We are trying to help but we can’t do anything unless you tell us.” Poe said, his voice nearly a whisper.

Chapter Text

“You should tell them, Mushi-kun. Maybe if you’re lucky, they won’t hate you too much! But, I wouldn’t count on it. My bet’s that they’ll both run out of the house and lose your number. Perhaps the detective will even arrest you!” Yokomizo said as he appeared next to Oguri, smiling sweetly.

Oguri’s throat felt dry, this was entirely too much. The room he was in wasn’t locked, so why was he here? He frantically looked for a way out of this situation, but Poe and Ranpo were blocking one way and Yokomizo the other. He felt his chest begin to ache dully, at this rate he was going to pass out.

Poe watched the man in front of him staring to the side of him, he was trembling again, but he couldn’t tell what from. God, he had crossed the line again. He slid back, pulling his confused boyfriend along with him, mumbling something about giving Oguri some space.

A very quiet wail erupted from the latter, as he leaned against the wall for stability. He was repeating something under his breath, though neither Poe nor Ranpo could make out what it was exactly.

The two men leaned closer in and learned that he was muttering apologies, albeit his voice was so fast that it was blurring all of the words together that it was nearly incomprehensible.

Ranpo was the first to gently place a hand on Oguri’s shoulder, “Hey, it’s okay. Why are you apologizing, Mushitarou-kun?”

Even though his eyes were glazed over, Oguri turned towards Ranpo and whispered a somewhat shaky ‘Yokomizo’ before losing the strength in his legs and slumping against the detective. Poe quickly jumped forward to catch both of them.

It took some time, but using similar tactics to earlier, Poe and Ranpo were able to calm Oguri down to an extent, laying on the ground in the hallway next to them.

Oguri checked around, seeing that Yokomizo was nowhere to be seen, and let out a sigh of relief. He rubbed Karl’s ears and looked up at the two other men. “I guess I owe you an explanation, don’t I?” He offered in a lowered tone.

Ranpo held back a snarky remark in favor of learning what had been tormenting his friend for the entire day, and probably longer, in all reality. Instead, he just nodded along with Poe.

“So,” Oguri sighed, already blinking back tears again.

Poe reached out and grabbed Oguri’s hand reassuringly, “Take your time, Mushitarou-san. We’ve all done some pretty messed up things…”

Ranpo thought back to how he’d met Poe for the second time, the challenge, and the threat for death and revenge. It was ironically funny now, considering that they were dating and trusted each other with all sorts of things, including their lives.

Oguri sighed and began, his voice slightly shaking, “So, before I was with the Rats, I was just your somewhat regular worker. I had a 9-5 job and spent most of my time with my friend, or my boyfriend actually, Yokomizo.” Poe tensed at the name, looking at Ranpo who nodded with a look as he worked to piece together the story.

“We knew each other from high school. I guess since we were both so strange that we were the only ones who wanted to talk to each other.” His face grew fond at a distant memory. “Yokomizo was a writer, like you, Poe. He wrote some very famous mystery stories, like the one that you bought when we had first met.”

Yokomizo materialized, sickly smiling because he knew what was coming next.

“But… he grew very sick. Cancer. It wasn’t like there was anything we could’ve done to stop it, just slowly watch him fade. That’s when he got his master idea. The unsolvable and famous mystery story, one where the story mirrored events…”

Ranpo’s eyes grew wide as he connected the final missing pieces, but Poe was still left in the dark.

Yokomizo looked pleased and whispered next to Oguri’s ear, “Wait ‘till they hear this part. Oh, I’m so excited to see their reactions once they find out what you’ve done!”

Oguri inhaled sharply, avoiding eye contact, “His… big plan was to be killed in the same way as his main character, to avoid dying of cancer in the hospital. He was always one for grand entrances and, well, exits, I suppose. So, two years ago, on my birthday, he called me home, saying that it was an emergency. Given that his condition was getting worse, I hurried over immediately. You both read his book, correct? Yes well…” His voice faded, too afraid to reveal the last part.

Poe leaned closer and hugged Oguri, “Hey, it’s not your fault.”

“You don’t understand! He’s still here! And, I didn’t have to. I just didn’t want to be selfish-”

“Selfish? Who told you that not committing a crime would be selfish, Mushitarou-kun?” Ranpo asked.

Oguri stiffened, “When I told him I wouldn’t do it, he told me I was selfish for not granting my boyfriends’ dying wish. He was right, I just wish that there was another way.” He was not crying as he relayed the story. Ranpo and Poe exchanged knowing glances. Nobody in a loving relationship would ever guilt trip their partner into doing something like that.

“Hey, wait,” Poe spoke up quietly, “What did you mean by, ‘he’s still here'?”

Oguri swallowed harshly, “Whenever I get into a bad situation or when I’m in a ‘locked room’ he’s there. Sometimes he offers help, like at the jail to help me escape with that white-haired boy and violent little girl. He was just here… God, you probably both think I’m insane.”

Ranpo scooted over onto the other side of Oguri, effectively sandwiching him between the couple. “We don’t think you’re insane. It makes sense to me. What was he saying earlier?”

Startled by the sudden contact, Oguri flushed, “He told me that he was ‘excited’ to see your guys' reactions and for you to leave after finding out what I’d done.”

Poe gave Oguri’s hand a squeeze, “That wouldn’t happen. We’ve all had our moments.”

“You’ve had your moments of committing a serious federal crime?” Oguri deadpanned.

Poe shrugged, “I mean, I have. In several countries, in fact.” The American wiggled his fingers in a mock-scary way.

“I mean, I don’t think it’s a federal crime but I did barrate the warden and also was framed of terrorism for a while, too,” Ranpo offered. Poe gasped and covered a chuckle, “Wait, wait, I need the story of the warden now.”

Until well into the afternoon, the men stayed on the floor in the hallway, exchanging various strange stories. Some of the more bizarre one’s came from Poe in his time as a part of the Guild. For serious criminals and terrorists, they were quite the eccentric bunch.

“I just can’t believe you lived with a literal sea creature who refused to eat anything but peanut butter sandwiches!” Ranpo laughed.

Out of nowhere, Oguri sprung forward, “Oh my god, I just realized that I’ve been an awful host!” he gasped.

Ranpo laughed even harder, “That’s your concern in all of this?”

Poe returned the sentiment, “We don’t need anything, honestly. We made sure to eat before we left my house. Speaking of which, if you ever want to visit, my door’s always open.”

“Wait!” Ranpo dug into the pockets of his pants for a moment, pulling out a somewhat large wrapped chocolate cookie. “I just realized we never brought you a cake for your birthday!”

As the detective broke the cookie into three even pieces and distributed it, he sang a slightly off-key version of the birthday song. Poe tried to sing it, but eventually gave up trying to sing it in Japanese since he hadn’t really needed to learn the song, and began singing the English version of the song.
Essentially, it was an absolute mess, but Oguri wouldn’t have traded the birthday for the world.

A thought struck him as he chewed on the cookie, “Ranpo-san, why did you have a cookie in your pocket?”

“What a stupid question, Oguri-kun! I always carry a cookie in my pocket.”

“It’s true! I can confirm that for at least six years, he’s kept at least one cookie in his pocket!” Poe confirmed, his face turning slightly sour at a memory, “He took it out and ate it right next to the body at that competition when we first met.”

As the three men laughed together sitting on the floor of his hallway, Oguri thought that maybe he wasn’t such an awful person, and Yokomizo had been wrong all those years. He smiled fondly at the thought, tightening his hold on each of the men's hands.