Chapter Text
Any idiot could work out that something was off about Poe that day. Ranpo didn't need deduction skills to work out that much. If Poe had ever considered cancelling a novel assessing session for other plans, Ranpo would give his entire sweet stash straight to Mori. Besides, what "plans" could Poe have? His only other friend was Karl, and Ranpo doubted they had manicures scheduled.
From the second Poe answered his door, it was obvious he was distressed. Though his hidden face was hard to read, Ranpo could still see his anxiously pursed lips. He had been uncomfortably fidgeting as he told Ranpo he wasn't available, and his hands had shook as he closed the door.
It was the hasty sound of the manor's heavy locks clicking that set Ranpo off.
"Poe?" He called sharply. His hand was tense on the stubbornly unmoving handle. "Ed?"
In response, there was a clatter and a muffled curse. The unfamiliar voice sent ice-cold panic rippling through Ranpo's veins, Typically, he was easy-going during work. Being calculated during crisis came with the years of experience he’d had to practice.
When Ranpo felt it was safe enough, he even brought Poe along to spice it up. His involvement wasn't such a pleasure this time.
"OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW! " Ranpo shouted, launching himself against it. "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU'RE MESSING WITH!"
He would've yelled more, but another sound from inside shut him up.
Karl was growling, a prickly noise Ranpo heard only rarely. A muffled thump and a strangled squeak returned silence to the other side of the door.
"THAT RACOON IS PRACTICALLY MY STEP-SON!" He hoped Poe was unconscious at that point. "START SAYING YOUR PRAYERS!"
Two heavy pairs of footsteps receded further into the house. Ranpo stilled, for a moment, assessing. They were clearly kidnappers. There had been a struggle. If they were going to kill Poe, they would've already done so and skipped the hassle.
That presented a rather inconvenient problem. Manors were not small structures. There had to be at least a dozen exits, not accounting for the absurd number of Victorian windows. For the first time, Poe's luxurious wealth was proving itself to be unhelpful.
Calling reinforcements would take too long, and Ranpo couldn't watch all the mansion's sides at once. Hastily, he jogged backward to get a better view, glancing around for a getaway car. Both the elegant front drive he stood on and the street behind him were deserted.
Not letting his eyes stray from Poe's manor, Ranpo fumbled in his pocket for his phone. Sliding it up to his ear, he punched in Yosano's contact and was relieved to hear her voice fill his head in mere seconds.
"Ranpo?"
"Yosano, my day is booked. Don't let anyone from the agency bother me. Poe’s been kidnapped.’’
His tone seemed to take Yosano aback.
"The guy that tried to kill us in his novel? You two hang out often now, don't you?"
"For a detective, you're asking stupid questions," Ranpo snapped. He didn't get worked up, but for the first time in a while, a case had him on edge. It wasn't as exhilarating as he'd been hoping. "Shit, they must've left already.”
When Yosano didn't respond, he sighed. "Sorry, sorry. This case it weird. I'm not understanding it immediately, and I don't think I have a lot of time. The people who took him didn't stick around, so they aren't doing it for money, and they didn't kill him. That leaves imprisonment or torture, and they're aware that they have a witness, so they know they're on a time limit.”
Ranpo's words spilled from his mouth, rapidly, so unlike his usual overviews. It was far from the lazily collected conclusions he was so used to delivering.
"You're frantic. Calm down." Yosano spoke slowly. Her voice was buttery smooth, a welcome change from the (deserved) cold shoulder she'd given him earlier. "Poe's counting on you. This is your job.”
"Yeah..." Ranpo matched her tone, letting his heart's pace return to something near normal. “Yeah.”
He turned away from the house and made his way back to the sidewalk. As he walked, he drew a comforting pair of square-framed glasses from his pocket, staring at them for a moment before putting them on. More obvious realizations floated into his brain.
"They're close,” he told Yosano, half wondering why he was keeping her on the phone. "They're going on foot, and away from the eyes of the main street. One of them ought to have Poe over their shoulder, which would attract too much attention otherwise. There's a warehouse only a block or two from here. They'll be heading for that. The boots they were wearing don’t sound suitable for a more polite location.”
A wave of relief flooded Ranpo's body at the information he'd fished up, however diluted it was. Poe was still in danger, after all. Pushing back the veil of the unknown dragged him back from the dark's cliff, but he wasn't out of the woods yet.
"The best they can do is a warehouse? Sounds like a boring cliche written by a bad author," he chuckled.
"Not very creative," Yosano agreed. There was a smile in her tone. "I assume you're already on your way over?"
"Walking as fast as I can without attracting attention," Ranpo confirmed. "Any number of stragglers could be in on this. I don't want to tip anyone off if there’s someone on lookout."
Yosano caught on at once. "Stragglers?” she repeated. “Old Guild members?"
"Bingo. And after this, we won't have to worry about them again." In the back of his head Ranpo heard himself argue that Poe would never have to worry about them again.
There was a hesitant pause before Yosano spoke again. "Ranpo...”
"Why do you think I called you, rather than Kunikida? You're no snitch.’’
. . .
Unnecessary murder was not normally condoned by the ADA. They were (officially) detectives, not assassins. Thankfully, Ranpo wasn't working for the agency at the moment. He was working for himself, and he'd be damned if he let anyone snatch Poe from right under his nose.
Though it might've made a grand entrance, Ranpo decided against kicking down the front doors (Poe's influence on him was all too obvious). With a sigh, he turned his attention to observing the warehouse from the window. It was safer to first see what was going on. If he burst in on them while they had a knife to his throat, one surprised jerk of a hand could do serious damage.
Clambering up to the warehouse's clerestory windows proved to be the easy part. The time he had to spend watching what was going on inside was a different story. The scene should've been nothing compared to most of the atrocities he'd seen while with the agency. Even while rescuing his co-workers from certain death, his rage didn't come close to the fury he felt then.
Below, Poe was indignantly monologuing about how his reputation and honor were being thrown to disgrace. His hands were shaking as much as the ropes they were bound with allowed. He was tied to an old, wooden chair, blindfolded. The kidnappers were clearly regretting their mistake of neglecting to gag him.
They consisted of four men, who were all lingering around Poe. The closest to him, who was sporting one of the most disgusting mullet Ranpo had ever laid eyes on drew his outstretched hand back.
Ranpo's brilliant green eyes widened in horrified rage as Mr. Mullet smacked Poe. His grip on the edge of the window was itching to be on the trigger of his gun.
Waiting was painful. To take all the old Guild members out, he would have to wait until Mr. Mullet was farther away from Poe. He was too close for Ranpo to aim comfortably, and if he shot any of the other three, Poe would no doubt have a gun to his head in warning.
Poe recoiled from the hit silently, wildly askew hair hiding his face.
"Do shut up," one of the other men drawled. He tossed a sheathed dagger from the breast pocket of his polo shirt into Mr. Mullet's awaiting palm. "That pretty tongue can be removed easily enough.”
Both he and Mr. Mullet were dressed more finely than the other two. Ranpo supposed the shabbier pair were of lower status. Grunts, probably. They were likely the ones who had actually done the kidnapping. He glanced at their work boots with narrowed eyes.
Mr. Mullet's laugh fuelled the sickeningly furious flames licking Ranpo's insides. "I think he'd be better off without his hands! A writer unable to even lift a pencil, what a cruel fate...”
Upon catching Poe's terrified gasp, Dagger Man leered. "Oh, dear Poe. You have no one to blame but yourself. The Guild's fall was mainly due to the weak link: you. You never cared about Ferdinand's goals, only what that childish detective thought of you. I can't wait for him to find you bleeding out in this chair, trying to scream through that gag."
He held up a long, thick piece of cloth. "If you can last long enough for him to find you, that is.”
Ranpo imagined a scene of carnage. Bullets flying and brains splattered would've been music to his ears. He was almost trembling as much as Poe, though for very different reasons.
The aggressive spike in emotion Poe gave him was nearly frightening. He was going crazy over a guy who he wasn't even in a relationship with. While Ranpo was all too aware that Poe had fallen for him, Poe had no idea himself. It was infuriating, but Ranpo was forcing himself to be patient.
"Ranpo will be here any minute," Poe's words were confident, despite his fear. "He's the greatest detective in the world! With his Ultra Deduction, he is no doubt already on his way.”
“Rival.” Right.
The stranger they'd met during the Mushitarō case had been right about him being a fan. Still, Ranpo would be lying if he said Poe's certainty made his heart pump a little harder. Poe was always in awe of him. His unwavering faith was rather motivating.
"Oh, can it." Mr. Mullet snorted. "If he really is as good as you say, he'd be here already. He probably has more important cases to work on, anyway. What makes you think you're so high priority?"
Poe opened his mouth, but closed it again uncertainly.
Apparently satisfied, Mr. Mullet chuckled and turned to Dagger Man. "Right, I think for his hands, we should get something a little more heavy duty than this dagger. While the threat of gunning down those ADA dipshits has kept him from screaming too loudly, a delayed interrogation would only increase the chances of discovery. The gag can only do so much. We need to get this over with quickly.”
"You," Dagger Man pointed to one of the grunts. "There's a chainsaw in a box back there somewhere. Bring it over.”
Ranpo tensed. Like hell he was letting Poe’s hands get hawked off, especially after learning why his resistance was so futile. If Mr. Mullet didn’t move soon, he was simply going to pray he wouldn't hit Poe.
It was as if the stars above had listened in on his thoughts and decided to take pity on him.
Mr. Mullet rubbed his temples, exasperated. “Oh, it’ll take them longer than we have to risk. I know where one is.” He moved away from Poe.
Ranpo could've laughed out loud in giddy disbelief. Instead, he leapt on the stacked crates piled high around the warehouse until he reached the smooth concrete floor. Dagger Man did a double take at his sudden appearance and yelled in alarm.
"Surprise!" Ranpo cackled.
Before any of them could whip out a weapon, they were shot down in swift succession. Ranpo blew imaginary smoke off the tip of his gun, even if no one around him could see it. Considering the agonising length of time he had to watch them threatening Poe, victory was all too fleeting.
Poe did not, as Ranpo expected, cry his name in relief, beaming. His brave face seemed to have finally faded. He was scared stiff. He spoke tentatively, hardly daring to struggle against his bonds. "Ranpo?"
As Ranpo prepared to respond, a bullet whizzed past his head, grazing Poe's shoulder. Startled, Poe yelped.
Ranpo turned to see Dagger Man, still sprawled across the warehouse floor, loosening his grip on the gun’s trigger as the life faded from his half-lidded eyes.
"Scum," Ranpo growled.
He stomped on the man's nose and let three more bullets punch their way into his head.
To Ranpo's dismay, Poe was shaking again. He strode over quickly and freed him from. the ropes. When he untied the rough cloth blinding Poe, he caught a glimpse of red rimmed eyes before they were covered once again.
Poe had done no more than stand on unsteady feet before Ranpo started on him. Seeing the state he was in made Ranpo want to hold him, touch him in some way. But he couldn’t. Frustration hit unexpectedly.
"Why were you so stupid?" Ranpo accused, crossing his arms. "This rescue should've been way easier than you made it.”
Offended and surprised, Poe's hand instinctively hovered closer to his chest. "What?"
"You could've prevented this whole affair if you hadn't shut me out of your mansion! They were there with you; I could've stopped them right then! Did you want to be captured?!" Ranpo knew it was wrong to yell at Poe. Still, his anger hadn't abated. It crawled from his guts to his throat, egging on his outburst.
"They were going to shoot you through the door if I said anything!" Poe threw his arms up indignantly.
Ranpo scoffed. "Why would they threaten me rather than you?"
A sentence was clearly teetering on the tip of Poe's tongue. He surrendered it in an uncharacteristic outburst. "I VOLENTEERED, Ranpo! I'd rather have them polish me off right then and there then have you be killed because of my past! They wouldn't let me, as the other two men had ordered me to be brought alive.”
Blinking fog moment, Ranpo processed the information. Then, matter-of-factly, he said, “that’s even more stupid.”
Poe stalked past Ranpo, only stopping to bend down and wrench the gun from Dagger Man's dead grip. As he reached the looming warehouse doors, he smashed the rusted lock securing them with the weapon before tossing it aside. He put one of his hands on the edge of a door, opening it a crack. The busy sounds of everyday civilization filled the cavernous space.
"Sorry," Poe muttered bitterly, "for failing to match your intellect. Perhaps I should find a rival more fit to my skill level.”
"Start at the elementary school," Ranpo retorted.
Casting one final resentful glare his way, Poe slipped out. His hurt face was burned against Ranpo's retinas, flashing and painfully insistent.