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This was the stupidest mystery Mushitarou had ever seen.
He stood in front of the white door, arms crossed, standing in nothing but an endless white void. Beyond this door was supposedly a safe house Poe had created, where they would all constantly be sheltered if the need arose. Poe had millions of these books on hand, even. Some of them crafted to contain criminals and torture them into oblivion, a few others written for friends who need a place to stay while traveling or hiding, and a few others reserved for Poe only so he could live out fantasies that lived rent free within his mind.
Ranpo actually has gotten a glance at a few of those special books, and Mushitarou humbly requested he shut up about their contents. But he didn't have time to think about that right now. The only way Poe's ability worked was if there was a mystery involved. If there was nothing to solve, it'd just be a normal book. Poe's mysteries were usually astounding and out of the ordinary, designed to make one think, but some of them meant for hideouts and such were a little lackluster.
Like the words printed on this door.
A woman lays dead on the floor. Beside her are two men. The first man is covered in blood and holding a knife, but he says the second man did it. The second man is holding a gun, but he is not covered in blood. Who's the murderer?
Mushitarou squinted at the words with a furrow to his brow, imagining the idiotic scene taking place. It was like two toddlers tattling on each other to their mother. But, well, this was meant to be easy. No way in otherwise.
"The first man is the murderer."
The door clicked loudly as it unlocked, and then began to creak open subtly. Mushitarou reached out and grasped the golden knob, pushing the door open the rest of the way. Immediately he was greeted by none other than the foyer of a mansion, or at least, some otherworldly version of one. It was definitely European, dim with red carpeting and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. All of the large windows had their curtains pulled closed, soft red to match the carpets. Before him were twin stairs leading to what he assumed would be bedrooms, but knowing Poe, they could be entirely different dimensions hidden behind doors, like chapters smoothly gliding between each other.
"Anyone home?" Mushitarou called out as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He heard clattering from upstairs, and moments later, a tall figure hurried down the steps and stopped halfway, hand gripping the railing.
"Mushi! Yes, yes, hello!" Poe called, his jacket sweeping to a stop behind him. Karl was perched atop his shoulder, staring hard at Mushitarou with his beady little eyes. Mushitarou would never admit that he was sincerely disturbed by the fact Poe had a raccoon for a pet, but he never brought it up because he knew it would hurt his feelings.
Poe began to descend the rest of the way, nearly missing the last few steps and beginning to go faster and faster. "Here, here, thank you so much for accompanying me, I understand it was probably difficult for you to get here -"
"If you mean the riddle, it wasn't hard." Mushitarou sighed, crossing his arms and watching Poe speed faster and faster in his attempt not to fall. "As for actually getting here, Ranpo was a real pal."
Poe finally stumbled his way to the bottom of the stairs, panting subtly and brushing a few strands of hair away so he could properly see his guest. Mushitarou would also never admit how decrepit and creepy Poe looked. He always had those bags under his eyes, and he's only ever seldom seen his actual eyes. They were such a pretty silvery purple, yet the way they stared and seemed more sharp than others gave the impression of some kind of predator. Maybe a hawk, or some other raptor. He didn't understand how Ranpo could be so infatuated with those eyes.
"Yes, yes, of course, Ranpo." Poe sighed, repeating himself for what felt like the thousandth time in only a few minutes. "Well, the good part is, the worst part is over. I trust we can make it to the agency safely."
"I don't. That man is horrible with direction." Mushitarou huffed, shaking his head. "But, well, Kunikida was there, so I suppose our fate is probably fine."
Poe nodded, silent for a few seconds as he wrung his hands together. He probably didn't want to admit how bad Ranpo was with directions, as the man was old enough to drink, drive, and even gamble, yet he couldn't even ride the train by himself. Either way, the silence was deafening, and Mushitarou found himself staring at Karl once more, who curled his lip up and bared his teeth in aggression. Disgusting.
"Well! Uh …" Poe said suddenly, making both Karl and Mushitarou jump and retreat back into their neutral faces. "I suppose you're going to need a tour. Shall we?"
"Please." Mushitarou sighed, approaching the fellow writer. "I really need to use the bathroom."
"Oh, every room has a bathroom attached to it. They're everywhere." Poe chuckled as he turned and led Mushitarou back upstairs, this time glancing down as he walked so he could watch his steps. Mushitarou was stuck staring at the backside of Karl, who turned and peered back at him with what Mushitarou could only call the raccoon equivalent of a glare.
The two finally made their way to the top floor, which at first, looked like a nice lounge, accompanied by a fireplace and quite a few comfortable looking chairs, as well as books, papers and quills piled beside little inkwells on the tables. As they made their way down a hall, they seemed to run into quite a few doors lining the walls. Every once in a while there was a table with quills, papers and inkwells, which was a bit strange. At the end of the hall, the door Poe opened up appeared to lead into a lavish bedroom.
"All the rooms are pretty similar. This space is designed to hold a lot of people, like, say, an agency." Poe explained as he gestured at the room. There was a large bed obscured by thin drapes hanging from the ceiling, a few books and papers stacked about, as well as a soft rug and a dresser in the corner. It even came with a full length mirror propped against the wall, and boy, was Mushitarou curious about what lay outside that window.
Mushitarou stepped inside and decided to pick up one of the books. He found it was closer to a journal, for it seemed to have no title, nor was it decorated in any way. When he flipped it open, it merely had blank pages that went on for quite a while. "Does … every room have writing supplies?"
Poe leaned against the doorway with his shoulder, shrugging at the question offered to him. He seemed to avert his gaze, not expecting such a direct question. "I mean, I guess so. I wanted to make sure my guests wouldn't be bored."
Mushitarou couldn't help but scoff, whipping around and slapping his hand lightly on the book - but - also - a - journal. "Wh- Poe, not everyone who comes here is a writer! It's not normal for there to be writing supplies strewn about everywhere!"
"Well hey, who knows, maybe they can develop a new hobby!" Poe spat back in defense, letting Karl crawl down his arm and hop onto one of the tables. "I'm just thinking of what things I like to have in a home!"
"Yes, well, you're rich and American, so your definition of home is different than most people." Mushitarou sighed as he strode towards the bathroom door, opening it up, only to pause for a good few seconds.
Poe bit his tongue as he watched Mushitarou go absolutely still, staring at something in the lavish bathroom. So Poe decided to walk over, as Karl attempted to follow by jumping on the bed. "What is it? Something wrong?"
Mushitarou stepped inside the bathroom, and in complete disbelief, picked up what was another journal and quill, whipping around to face the writer and nearly knocking over the inkwell in the process. "The bathroom!?" He cried, shaking the journal before slapping it onto Poe's chest. "You have these things in the bathroom !?"
Poe looked flabbergasted as he held the journal and quill close, stumbling over himself as he tried to search for an explanation. Then, it finally hit him. "I - I guess!? I just wrote down 'every room', it slipped my mind that the bathroom would be included-"
" BATHROOM HAS THE WORD 'ROOM' IN IT!!! " Mushitarou howled, turning back around and stomping to the shower. He reached, grabbed a fistful of the curtain, and yanked it open, leaning over to check if the tub was hiding any other writing utensils. "Holy shit, do you use the pages as toilet paper!? Honestly!"
"No??? That'd be extremely uncomfortable??" Poe squeaked, glancing down for a moment when Karl moved between his legs and chattered up at Mushitarou. "I don't criticize your lifestyle!"
"Because my lifestyle is considered normal , you absolute buffoon!" Mushitarou hissed as he yanked the curtain back closed, turning around and lightly pushing Poe out of the way as he exited the bathroom. Confused and mildly distraught, Poe followed the other writer as he made his way across the hall, slamming open the door to another bedroom.
Another exasperated 'Aha' sounded when Mushitarou picked up another journal on the nightstand beside the bed, then slapped it back onto the hard wood. Poe could only watch as he turned and slammed the bathroom door open, moving inside only to start tossing journals, papers, and quills onto the bedroom floor like confetti.
"Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable!" He cried, throwing his hands in the air as he stormed back into the room. Poe didn't understand how someone could be so distraught over books being strewn all over the place, but all he did was watch as he yanked open the curtains, staring off into a starry night and rolling hills. He didn't seem to find any kind of book worlds or writing in the sky, so he turned back around and looked at the room quizzically, brows furrowed.
"Wha - what are you looking for?" Poe asked with a slight stammer to his tone.
"Hidden compartments full of books or something." Mushitarou answered as he stalked towards the wardrobe, yanking it open. And indeed, a small stack of books were in the corner.
"I sincerely don't understand why this is bothering you so much." Poe said with a shake of his head as Mushitarou bent down, tossing the books over his shoulder and lifting up an inkwell, shaking it and peering inside before he set it back down in the wardrobe.
"Because!! This isn't normal!!" He shouted as he lifted up another book, tossing it at Poe and making the taller man stumble with a small 'oof' at the impact of the book hitting his forehead. "Why would every fucking wardrobe need The Purloined Letter - !!?"
"I don't know! Light reading or something!?" Poe shouted back as he crouched down to pick up the fallen book, brushing off the leathery cover and lifting his head again. But Mushitarou was running out of the room, so with a sweep of his coat and Karl running after, he tried to catch up to the suited man, who was now heading for the stairs in search of some other obscure room.
"Kitchen!! Where's your goddamn kitchen!?" Mushitarou cried, thundering down the steps as his hand glided down the cold railing.
"Um - t - to the hall to your left!" Poe shouted after with ragged pants, yelping when he ended up tripping on his own shoe, rolling down the rest of the way and toppling past Mushitarou, who simply hopped over him and began to run towards the hallway to his left.
Regaining his bearings after Karl landed on his head, Poe forced himself to his feet and raced after, the two of them casting dancing shadows across the faded wallpaper as they hurried towards the kitchen. Two grand doors stood in their way, so Mushitarou freely slammed them open, running into what appeared to be a dining room, with a long table surrounded by numerous chairs. And alas, on the end of the table was indeed, books, journals, quills and inkwells. Mushitarou stopped for a second to wave his hands and gesture at them to Poe, before he turned around a few times and ran to the door to where he assumed the kitchen was, repeatedly crying the word 'unbelievable'.
And then, he slammed open the kitchen door, storming inside the pristine area, full of numerous counters and empty sinks. He stomped his way towards the counter furthest from him, swiping up another book, and sending a dark glare to the writer who ran in. "You have them in the kitchen, too!? Don't you think about what a fire hazard these could be!?"
"I didn't at the time!" Poe cried as Karl shifted atop his head, grabbing at his hair and leaning down to nibble at his head. "I swear, when I wrote 'all rooms' I didn't think the kitchen would -"
Poe was cut off when Mushitarou stomped over, setting the book aside and clapping his hands onto Poe's cheeks, effectively holding him still so he could properly shout at his face. "Then think about it! Think about how weird it is! You could've just said, oh, I dunno, leave 'em on every other desk table, or maybe in every bedroom, not every room !! This! Isn't! Normal!"
"Buf Mufshi —" Poe tried to say, but the hands against his cheeks tightened, and Mushitarou started to lightly shake him, getting so close their noses bopped together.
"No! No buts!" Mushitarou cried, eyes wide as he was intent on getting this absolute atrocity to God and everything normal through Poe's head. "You need help ! I swear, even your dreams and nightmares are full of books! I'm a writer too and I don't think every room needs fucking literature in it! You! Have! A! Problem!"
Karl began loudly chattering on Poe's head, leaning down and slapping his tiny paw on Mushitarou's finger as he scrambled for good footing. Mushitarou shrieked at the cold touch, stumbling back and swiping the book off the counter, raising his arm in the air with the intent to knock that blasted rodent looking beast off of Poe's head. Of course, that made the fellow writer shriek louder than Mushitarou, leaning over and grabbing a pan to shield Karl with.
"Um … guys?"
Both of the writers stopped at the familiar third voice sounding, and all books and other weapons were slowly lowered as heads turned. There, in the open doorway, was Ranpo, brows raised and mouth straight. How embarrassing it felt to be caught in nearly committing a murder by none other than the master detective.
Poe cleared his throat, brushing himself off and setting aside the pan as Mushitarou tossed the book over his shoulder and let it clatter loudly into the sink. The two tried their best to hide what just happened, an awkward silence settling between them, so Poe decided to speak up first. "Hello, Ranpo. What, uh … what brings you here?"
Ranpo couldn't help the snort that left him before he fixed his hat atop his head, closing the door behind him when he approached. "Well, I came here to let you two know we've arrived at the agency, but I can see you're busy doing … what, exactly?"
Mushitarou and Poe met gazes for a split second. Both of them searched for an explanation that wouldn't warrant the mocking laughter of Ranpo, the man who had enough talent to join all of them together. Deciding to bring the true issue to light, Mushitarou ran a hand through his hair, turned, and pointed at Poe, other hand resting on his hip. "Your boyfriend as a book problem."
"What!? I do not!" Poe shouted back in retaliation, pointing an accusing finger at Mushitarou. "I let you in here with nothing but the kindness of my heart, and this is how you repay me!?"
"It's a legitimate problem!" Mushitarou shrieked, turning towards the dark haired man and throwing his hands in the air. "You need professional help!! Who leaves books in the bathroom!? Better yet, every single bathroom in this damn space!?"
The two hushed their conversation when Ranpo snorted again, lifting a hand to cover his mouth. Poe and Mushitarou both watched each other's cheeks darken into bright red when they turned to look at the detective, who's shoulders were shaking at the strange argument in front of him.
And, finally, he broke out in deranged laughter that took him a good five minutes to calm down from, due to the tomfoolery of his partners.