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It was one of the rare days where the ADA was almost empty, except by two souls who were taking a rest after a long, exhaustive mission. Ranpo was still shaken by being so close to losing someone important to him, so he was unable to operate in this state. Meanwhile, Osamu was still recovering from the painful shot on his stomach, so he chose to work from the headsquader to avoid hurting himself even more. Despite the quietness between them, there was also a sense of disagreement in the air. A cold, odd feeling of unspoken words that were about to be gotten out. Who would start it, however, was uncertain.
Osamu was not willing to do it. In his point of view, Ranpo was the one who owed him an explanation, since he was the ‘boss’ in his absence. As the leader, it was his duty to clarify his decisions, regardless of affecting his brittle pride. Calmly, Osamu let his headphones down. An invitation. The young detective tsked and put a blue marble on his table. Ranpo didn’t want to do it, but when it involved this slippery snake, what choice did he have? Sooner or later, Osamu would get the answers. It was better if he found out through him instead of using his dingy methods.
But first, Ranpo would ask some questions before saying what Osamu wanted. He wasn’t known for giving things too easily anyway.
Not that Osamu was expecting any different.
“If you knew you were going to be attacked,” Ranpo began, cleaning his throat. Osamu rested his chin on his hand and hummed. “Then why did you go to that alley alone? You could’ve at least waited for Atsushi-kun.”
“I had my reasons.” Osamu uttered, so soft that it looked like he was speaking to a child. “Wanna guess what were they?”
They both knew it was just winding. Ranpo followed his lead regardless, because he gave up on trying to understand half of what happened inside Osamu’s mind. It was no use to try to unravel a crazy man’s head, especially when there was a little bit of sobriety in the midst of all the madness.
“It’s because of the fancy-hat redhead.” he said carefully, testing grounds. Not everyone had the luxury of referring to that mafia executive in front of Osamu and getting away with it. Luckily, only a gloomy expression appeared, though his grin never left his face.
“Bingo.”
Ranpo was nervous, but not fearing for himself, no, there was more in the game. More in the line. If Osamu was in his place, he would be quite anxious too.
He got up from his seat and got close to Osamu’s desk, never breaking eye contact with him. Yet, he was still smirking. Still at ease. A peace before the storm. Ranpo hoped his boat was sturdy enough.
“You put everything at risk, you risked the president’s life, because you didn’t want to face your lover or whatever in the battlefield.” Ranpo finally brought up the elephant in the room, closing his fists tightly. The mere thought made him shiver with rage. God, they were so close to losing Fukuzawa, and this asshole was–– “And here I thought you hated him.”
He ended his sentence out of spite, to see if Osamu would at least flinch by the accusation. He remained serene.
“Love and hate walk in the same line, but follow different paths. It’s an emotional ambivalence. I can hate him the same amount as I love him, therefore, Chuuya doesn’t lose the title of being my biggest rival.” Osamu explained, so full of conviction that it even sounded beautiful. Too bad Ranpo wasn’t the one who would fall for that snare.
“You should be ashamed of yourself.”
A scoff. “Do you really believe a person like me is capable of feeling something remotely similar to shame?”
No, Ranpo bit his tongue before he could say that.
“Your reasons are so selfish. Is this how you repay what the president has done for you? He accepted you in the agency despite your previous life. Despite the cascade of blood on your hands.” Ranpo stated, showing his angry, green eyes. “Is that man worth so much to the point of making you risk losing everything you conquered?”
Osamu closed his eyes, thoughtfully, and smiled sweetly. Somehow, this expression was worse than his apathetic mien. “He’s worth even more than that.”
When Osamu opened his eyes again, they were dark. Malicious. And yet, he dared to widen his smile, as if it could make Ranpo relax for a bit. It didn’t, because he knew what was about to come.
“Now tell me, Ranpo-san.” he began, raising his index finger up. “The novel your little writer friend created has a secret exit, doesn’t it? A specific page that still interacts with the real and fictional world. Is that right?”
There it was, the question Osamu wanted to ask since the day Fyodor was arrested, but which he held back out of consideration for the tired state that everyone in the agency was in. Now that they were alone, an opportunity opened up. Osamu wasn’t the type to let a chance pass, regardless of what Ranpo could feel. He already acted nicely. It was time for his good behavior to be rewarded.
Ranpo despised himself for being the one holding the treat.
He sighed and adjusted his clothes.
“What if it doesn’t?” he challenged, harshly. Osamu did nothing, except by childishly tilting his head to the side, finding amusement on Ranpo’s defensive behavior.
“Then,” Osamu pointed his finger at him. At his chest, precisely. “Are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions, Ranpo-san?”
‘Are you prepared to watch your friend die?’ Is the message behind this sadistic question.
“Yes, there is.” Ranpo said, because he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to lose Poe, someone who he grew fond of in the last few months. “There is a blank page that Poe-kun can still manipulate and decide what his fate will be.”
“Great!” Dazai clapped his hands and all that darkness overcasting him disappeared. But still, his eyes remained threatening. “If my slug doesn’t come out on his own in two days, tell him to take the chibi out of there.”
Nothing more was added besides a short nod from Ranpo.
The day went on with them without speaking anything else to each other, until it was time for them to go home and Ranpo decided he had something more to say.
“Dazai.” he called right before Osamu could leave. “Have you ever killed for Chuuya-san? And I don’t mean in a protective situation.”
“Allow me to answer it with another question.” Osamu said, extending his hand towards Edogawa’s direction. “Who wouldn’t kill for the ones we love?” A pause. “Even Tanizaki agrees with it.”
“You’re distorting it.” Ranpo claimed on the verge of exploding with rage. But Osamu, as sadist as he was, just laughed.
“And what if I am?” he inquired, licking his canines. “Who is going to stop me? You?”
Once Osamu left, Ranpo took his marble again and tossed it to the ground so hard that it broke.
_____________________
On the computer screen, a short redhead appeared. He just arrived at home and collapsed on his couch. His clothes were messy, there were some cuts on his skin and blood on his head. Nothing visibly serious. Osamu could sigh in relief.
In exactly two days, Chuuya managed to unravel the mystery of the novel. Or rather, he became the story’s own villain, distorting the dimension in his favor. Osamu was bursting with pride. Only his chibi to do such a remarkable action.
Inevitably, Ranpo’s question appeared in his mind, like an annoying parasite that caused no harm. It was a selfish reason to put everything aside for Chuuya’s sake, but so what? Wasn’t he allowed to be selfish for once? He had to act selflessly all the time, since that was one of the prerequisites that his job as a detective demanded. So what harm would it do to focus all his selfishness, all his devilish intentions and motives, on Chuuya? Nothing, right? Ranpo was just being dramatic because the one affected was someone he cared about. If it was any other person, he wouldn’t care if Osamu did the same thing. He, too, was a selfish bastard. He just didn’t want to admit it. Yet.
He kind of had a feeling that Poe would change some stuff about Ranpo. Osamu knew the detective was the one who asked the young writer to leave that exit as a precaution, all to protect him. So, if benefiting the enemy for the sake of another person wasn’t a show of selfishness, then Osamu didn’t know what else was.
His slander, cold fingers reached the screen to rub Chuuya’s head. He could almost feel it, the softness of the hair and the smell of the blood mixed with some expensive shampoo. Tonight, he would pay him a visit. His poor dog was injured and, as a good owner, Osamu couldn’t leave him like that. He could even hear Chuuya complaining, but also surrendering to Osamu’s affection and care because he needed to be pampered after getting off that damn book.
‘Have you ever killed for Chuuya-san?’
Osamu smirked as he stared at Chuuya’s lips.
So many times he had lost count.
Later, when things got calmer, he would stop by Poe’s place and burn that crap. Nothing could hurt his love and come out unscathed, not even a simple, well-written, mystery book.